Neverwinter Forest A bad penny always turns up.

After catapulting the girl aside, Stone had launched himself after the goading creature with so much enthusiasm it was a wonder that he stayed in this dimension. He wedged himself in to the half-destroyed old log and as he reached for the stoat, felt a whirlwind of activity as the little thing fought for its life against his snout. Later, Stone would think about how much fun this whole game was while simultaneously mourning the death he perpetrated; but if he was to become a warrior, he had to get over that.

Snap, screech, escape -- that was the plan.

He managed the first two. The stoat chattered as it fought but shrieked inside the body of the log, and as Stone's teeth caught them, there came a crunch and then silence. Unfortunately, Stone had pushed himself so deep inside the log that he had effectively locked himself inside; the widest point undulated with his panting breaths as his ribs shifted. His hips and tail were outside, being too wide and sharp to be accommodated. 

On the bright side: he could wag his tail triumphantly regardless.