Wild Berry Meadow [m] some gin and juice

shhiiiitttt — a sudden thought cut the course of his stride mid-meadow, nearly resulting in him taking a tumble and eating dirt. the cracked grin along his lips twisted to an awkward tug of regret as he turned twice round to look over his figure as if he had pockets to misplace an item. 

did i forget my mead? 

nope, wasn't under that paw. a turn later and yup, definitely wasn't fastened to his hip. he went cross-eyed to peer down at his sniffer and yup, wasn't there either. 

damn, he really had forgotten the mead. he slumped to the floor with a thump, his boney behind reminding him that there was more fat on a rabbit than his rear end. 

it cut worse that he'd gone and left behind his fermenting shell three days ago when some punk raccoon decided to think it was a funny idea to go and take an alcoholic bath in his mead-bowl. 

a sigh slipped past smile-stuck lips as the yearling flumped to the ground and decided it was a good time to die now.