Fairspell Meadow they once belonged to me

Fading out Tit! You can continue if you'd like.

With his face ground down against the dirt he could not see anything, couldn't hear anything. In a split second things seemed to move too fast for Titmouse - he was scrambling to get to his feet but failing, too shocked and pumped full of adrenaline to feel the full pain of his wounds. He smelled blood - he tasted it - and then, he screamed.

It was more of a gasp. A lurch and gulp for precious air, because the shock was beginning to wear off. The metal of his blood was on his tongue and turning to mud, he was flailing and rolling, tucking his limbs close. The presence of a third body did not register - nor did the conversation, not until he felt the pinch of teeth on his hind leg, the tug as he was dragged back. The boy loosed a scream and he kicked his limbs, pawing with his good forelimb, and fought hard to make the movement stop.

He screamed and he fought, and he did not hear the question from the dark girl - although he saw her green eyes trained on him and felt a burning rage take the place of his pain. He roared, LET ME GO! STOP! D-D-DON'T TOUCH ME! And whether or not his kicks made contact, the aptly named Screech would do his best to make himself heard. 

Not too long now, though. His head was fogging up, he was seeing the forest growing darker - as if the grove on the horizon was getting bigger every moment, ready to swallow him up - and his pleas did not last too long. The last thing Tit would remember upon waking would be a pair of vibrant green eyes, and the overwhelming panic of letting his family down, again.