┅Ｄｉｍｉｎｕｔｉｖｅ ｌｉｍｂｓ;; they hasten desperately amidst fallen branches and browning leaves, a cub's drooping tongue and heaving pants illustrious of frightened demeanor. Scurry does he, seeking r e f u g e from the mangy beast on his tail. A pup of thirteen weeks, astray from his pack on a hunt. His guardians busied with attempts at salvaging him. The howls and barks of their call, but the pup, far too frightened, can not comply. Not with a persistent bear fixating obsidian depths upon her young quarry.
The whelp pushes onward, slipping under and through arched ligneous roots. Perturbed and anxious, he spares a panicked glance upon the predator, gaging how her proximity is far from his comfort. Ashen gaze focuses ahead, the clearing atwixt tawny fronds instills hope and relief. A naive pup, never once considered the clearing he lances into - an expanse of naught but air.
A shrill of apprehension as eyne widen in realization...this wouldn't be pleasant in the slightest... Hind and fore paws flailing before he tumbles roughly onto concrete several feet below. And all he registers, is the c r u n c h i n g resonance of a fore left limb. It galvanizes the yelp of agony and a defeated posture . Fetal, curled into a ball does he nurse it with a rough tongue, as if his ministrations would alleviate discomfort. Albeit, he halts, recalling the beast. A wary disposition looks upward from where he's fallen, hoping he has not another thing to fret over.
F a l l , fall out of trees... Into the street... All on my own.
