Bearclaw Valley a dove is a glove that i wear on my heart

I wrote this post to the tune of "Yakety Sax"

Hooo, boy. Things all happened really fast, and one moment, he was being squeezed by something really sharp--that really hurt!--and the next, flung toward another shadow, who was making scary noises he'd never really heard before.

Unable to, well, really do much, Marten sorta just lay there and wailed, the puncture wounds on his sides oozing little trickles of blood that stood in stark contrast to his creamy pelt. His little eyes, so wide with wonder just moments ago, were squeezed shut in this moment of confusion and agony. He rolled, as best he could, away from the brown blur of motion above him.

Screeches and growls filled the once-peaceful air, and all he could think of was how ouchy he was feeling--and, well, he was kinda hungry, too.