Instead of giving a verbal response, the stranger grasped at his thickly-furred tail and yanked; it didn't hurt, it barely even registered really, but Amon felt like playing up the dramatics. He yelped - the sound was like a bludgeon of hot air through the stillness of the trees - and gave a playful little kick with one leg. Oi!
His precious tail!
Looks like you're going to have to live with the squirrels from now on.
The stranger commented, slipping around to look at him eye-to-eye. And for a moment, the old git was faced with the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Um, what was he doing again? Oh, right, getting un-stuck.
With a few quick blinks he pulled back, lurching to try and wedge his shoulders out from between the birch trees; when that didn't work, he sucked in as big a breath as he could muster - hoping that the narrowing of his body would help in some way. Stuck still?
The girl queried - and Amon lost his hold on all that hot air inside of him. It jettisoned out of his mouth as he deflated. Aye, there seems to be no freedom for me. Don't reckon you know any beavers, ay?