Having found nothing after an hour and a half of scouring the foliage along the forest floor, Alasdair decided to try a new tactic. With a wriggle of his rear and tail, he leapt up to the trunk of a tree and clawed his way onto one of the branches. “Maybe I will have a better chance seeing something valuable from up here.” His feet scuffed on the bark, but he managed a semi-graceful leap onto the next branch. “Supposedly there is furniture out here? I’d love to find a bed so I don’t have to keep sleeping on the floor, but so far, if I’ve managed to gather anything, it’s just been a few pumpkin seeds. I feel like such a disappointment…”

With that last thought, Alasdair lost his footing. He made a desperate attempt to hold on to the branch with his claws, but they slid right off, taking a good chunk of bark with them. Luckily, a bush down below broke his fall. His self-esteem was bruised far more than his body, and he lay in the bush for several minutes, nursing his pride until he felt he could face the world again. At last, he began to stir again, but footsteps nearby made him pause. Cautiously, he began to stick his nose out through the bush, but a cry startled him back again. After a moment, he peeked his had back out, but did not see anyone.

His heart began to pound. Just how safe are these woods, anyway?