July 31, 2001
Tails twitching in anticipation, Stealth growled a little to herself, ears flipped back flat against her skull. She really enjoyed this part of the game. Wriggling her haunches and digging in her hind claws, she prepared … and then lunged forward, covering the rest of the distance to the branch and the fly dice in mere moments.
“I was wondering when you’d show up to ruin my fun!” A familiar light voice spoke up in a rapid almost chirping sound. Stealth realized too late she’s made a horrible mistake. The Fly dice had an advantage this time in the form of paws and in those paws he held the end of a branch, bent up and around so that there was no way Stealth could avoid it.
With a malicious smile, the black and cream squirrel opened his paws and let the branch fly straight down, smacking Stealth’s forelegs. It hurt. It hurt bad. She let go with a startled yowl and fell through a few branches, forepaws outstretched. The first several limbs were too small and slipped right through her claws, until she hit the fourth one down and caught hold of it. It swayed, but held. Gasping, Stealth attempted to catch her breath, the wind knocked out of her by hitting the branch.