Phoenix Maplewood Rabbits and Furs

Unlucky for Amalia, Augustin was everything serenity was not.

Nimble paws (which occasionally tripped, but we ain’t counting those minutes) raced themselves through the Maplewood, his eyes seeing enough to get by but paying attention to too little to be considered as anything but a liability. And Augustin liked that sort of life. Giving strangers the unexpected, experiencing the unexpected himself.

He followed the sounds of a stream today and upon glimpsing it’s far bank and the low branches that hung over the waters, he thought it a fine test to see if he could jump the gap and maybe snap up a couple of leaves from one of those trees in the mix of things.

Well, he would have cleared the stream just fine, if it had only been a little narrower. His teeth clicked on air where the leaves should have been, and in some comedic fall, felt nothing where ground should have been - uh oh - and, seconds later, the chilly splash! of the river.