Qeya River Marble rye

Raccoon meat wasn’t especially desirable, but the ring-tailed creature had grown fat, almost comically so- and Ksura was not one to pass up an opportunity when it presented itself. Unfortunately, he lacked a great deal of experience when it came to hunting raccoons- and so when the creature spooked and ran for the nearest tree, the hunt came to an abrupt halt.

Raccoons could climb- and alas, Ksura could not. 

He was frustrated by the creature’s survival tactic, and circled the tree panting quickly and barking intermittently. He whined and scrabbled at the birch’s papery bark with his forepaws, standing up on his hind legs to try and get a bit closer- but the raccoon had ascended a good fifteen feet above the ground, well out of his reach.

His barks were high-pitched, quiet, but full of disdain. To see his quarry clearly cornered but out of reach was agony. He pitched his weight against the birch, but the tree did little more than tremble. He scratched away a few papery layers of bark with his claws. He could open his mouth wide enough to grasp the trunk, but no matter how he tugged and pulled, the tree did little more than quake, shaking loose only yellowed leaves. 

The raccoon trilled at him. He sat and stared up at it, panting still as he pondered what other methods he could use to either fell the tree, or shake the raccoon loose from its perch.