Mount Apikuni Who's That Trip-Trapping Over My Bridge?
I AM WEASEL, HEAR ME ROAR
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Ooc — Bryndel
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She yawned and stretched, a quick snap of the jaw open and shut with a quick upcurl of a tiny pink tongue in the middle. This was followed by a fast shimmy of the patchy brown and white fur around her shoulders, which was itching her again, blast it all—spring sheds were such annoying things. She blinked and shoved it to the back of her mind as she took a quick look around, certain there was something more important which required her attention—vibrations, low-pitched processions of waves, some sort of something that had interrupted her morning siesta and tripped her internal curiosity alarm. Some sort of sound, she surmised. But the dark confines of the burrow around her, with its plush scraps of tattered furs and a couple of wisps of tangled grasses, looked just as quiet and dim as ever. Her twitching black button of a nose could still detect the faint odor of the stupid, fat marmot she had taken this hidey-hole away from, and the more-recent rabbit whose soft fuzzy belly had formed her pillow, but the strongest scent by far was her own pungent aroma, with nothing else more interesting or new laid atop it.

So. She was still unsure just what exactly had awakened her. From the looks of things, however, and another sudden, muffled thwump of a noise that tickled her ears, something was afoot outside her den, and Nynka had better rein it in quick before it got too out of control. She scuttled in a flash through the long sloping dirt hallway and up to the entrance, whose concealment by a tussock of reviving spring-green grass and a small jagged boulder had not saved the unfortunate marmot. Her head popped out and twitched impatiently from one side to another, craning up and around behind her at one point as she tried to locate who or what had poked her ears awake. She placed her neat little forepaws just a little way up the rock and hoisted her head up an extra inch to get a better view, whiskers twitching and nose silently but keenly sampling the dampening air.
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Who's That Trip-Trapping Over My Bridge? - by Nynka - March 21, 2018, 02:04 PM