Redhawk Caldera Come drink the blood of apples

Dingleberry. What an odd thing to call someone. Well, that was what Trick thought when he heard Fox say it- before an apple hit him right between the eyes. The rotten fruit spilled everywhere on his already green face, making his face-fur all sticky and yecky. He had barely noticed his own apple had hit Peregrine. With a confused, dizzy look he looked around, only to realize it was Fox that had aimed for him. He smirked at her. While not very bright in the head, she certainly had aim. Oh, what a hell it would be to clean this all up, but that was none of his concern for now.

While Shrike was kicking apples away, some still munching on the sweet fruit, Trick was scouting out the forest floor with the intention of finding a rotten apple- FOR REVENGE! FOR GLORY! He was often one to take games too seriously, and this game was no exception. Finally found him in the chaos of flying apples and icky sounds and sticky feels, and he carefully picked it up. It tasted like very sweet crap, but he was just lucky he didn't have to swallow it or anything.

He moved with his agile body through the mess, trying to find Fox again. Once spotted, he would drop the rotten apple, gently, before slapping it at her with a mighty grin. Whether it landed or not, he had done his best. He was now just waiting for it to be over so he could take a bath.