Not Licked Yet

Stubb, Angus, Rayuwil, Amos, Hactor, Frigg

Location: Foxglove Hollow: The Lost Archway

The sun, at last deigning to peek its head through the trees, lifts the early morning mist from the respiring earth. A thin veil still clings to the snow, but it is diaphanous enough to permit a clear picture of the sorry scene. Stubb is hunkered against the once-great trunk of a withering pine tree, his vest removed and his paw laid across his midriff. The blossom of blood has ceased its march, but the wound has taken its toll. The weasel's breaths come slow and ragged, and his dull eyes shift aimlessly around, when they move at all. "'Ere, ma'e..." Stubb speaks at last, addressing Amos. "Wrap da woun's wif dis." He attempts to push his vest toward the wildcat.

Angus slumps at the base of a tree, head hung and mangled hand tucked against his belly. The lizard, it seems, is on the verge of sleep; his eyelids gradually droop, and he jerks now and then, in a vague attempt to stifle the inevitable. His tongue flickers briefly, tasting at the sharp early darn air, but the beast is too exhausted to decrypt its scents. There is, of course, the myriad smells of creatures, but Angus can hardly tell which are fresh and which are simply lingering ghosts.

Rodigero is the first to arrive on the scene... the squirrel keeps low to the ground and scans the scene from behind a large, upturned treeroot. He narrows his eyes, the fog still having its way with the sun just peeking over the horizon, barely strong enough to give much more light than that reflected by the dark blue sky.

Amos is decidedly hard to kill it seems, reaching for the vest as its offered and grunting in pain as he makes the effort to wrap his wound after ripping it to useful sized pieces, "Angus ya awake?" His breathing a bit a ragged and he's certainly the worse off of the trio, yowling as he makes an effort to get to his feet before falling back against the tree once again.

Hactor a waze off, Hactor is still following what he beleaves to be his quarrie's trail. He hadn't slept all night, and it was begening to take effect on the old fox. He was begening to have to stop and rest, leaning against a tree. He still held the sword in his good paw, and his eye swiffled this way and that trying to see through the fog.

Stubb's sacrificial gesture drained the last ounce of his waning strength. The weasel's eyes fall shut; his breathing slows further. As he slips into fevered sleep, his head lolls gently to the side, insensate to the cold and asleep to the approach of Rodigero and Hactor.

Unable to drum up a proper verbal response for the wildcat, Angus huffs a moist breath and, eventually, a grunt. His long face lolls to one shoulder, as lids fully eclipse a glum gaze. The forest, its insects silenced by the winter months, is remarkably quiet; the hymn of each over-burdened branch that caves or scrawny bird that takes flight resonates indefinitely among the trees.

The fox, just having come back to the scene after giving /whatever/ that was the slip... tiredly trudges along, dropping his axe. Out of sight of the others, but still in visibility of Hactor, Tundu leaves the axe and seems to gain a second wind upon seeing the other fox. He takes out a cord of rope and slowly creeps towards him, on his toes to keep the sound from the snow down. He doesn't have enough energy to take on the three like before, but an old fox with one arm? He chuckles. He approaches the tree from behind...

Amos growls in frustration, banging his head against the back of the tree as he as well begins to lose his strength finally. Closing his eyes and slumping against the tree. Focusing on the pain that is constantly afire through his leg and shoulder.

Rodigero tries to make his way closer to the group, climbing over the root to get to the next, just up ahead. He's unable to mount the thing, and he tumbles over! While on the ground, he doesn't move, looking up at the dark canopy above... sweat beading on his forehead... waiting for them to notice or not to notice. He clutches at his swordhandle.

Hactor takes a few breaths, that escape in large puffs. He doesn't care. He simply want's to find that fox, before it finds him. He was just about to get on the move again, when he felt something tighten around his neck!

The raspy chattering of claws on bark echoes from the branches high above, and a gentle shower of cold drops splashes across Stubb's dozing face. The drizzle elicits little more than a grunt and a wrinkle of the nose.

The distinct crunches of movement aloft tightly packed snow ring out in the area, wrecking the serenity of sunrise. Tongue reflexively lashing, Angus musters sufficient strength to peel his face from his shoulder. His eyes first find his wretched cohorts, but, as both are quite comatose, Angus switches his attention to the fringes of their shrub fort. ".. Mates," he manages to whisper, quickly peering up at the source of the dew-shower. "Somethin's close, mates. Kitteh? .. Stubbster?" Stubb, being the closest, receives a gentle nudge from the lizard's foot. "Get withit'."

Indeed it is what he hadn't wanted; Tundu had swung the end of the rope around one side and grabbed it on its return, and was now pulling both ends to choke Hactor! The younger fox hopes it's a silent choke, that he has the older fox's windpipe sealed off, as he leans forward from behind the tree and nods a good morning to the former king, "Bet we weren't expecting that, eh?" From behind the hood, the eyes widen in glee. He looks up at the trees. "We don't seem to haf much time anymore; can't lose these tree types for long. Shall I?" He gives the rope a sharp /tug/.

Amos dozes off for a moment, but is slowly stirred back to wakefulness suddenly, "Eh..." He blinks with the vagueness of danger about the lizard's tone. He hisses and tries to embrace the pain as he moves up leaning against the tree, "Get with it!" He repeats, hissing in pain and wishing he had a weapon.

Poppy has fluttered onto the scene but seems more concerned with chasing pretty wind, breeze-carried snowflakes than anything else. The young bat switches from flake to flake, her erratic, gleeful flights mirroring somewhat the behaviour of the snowflakes she chases. She catches one upon her tongue finally and giggles happily as she lands, upside down upon a twig. Her ears twitch then as she looks around. "Hello!" She calls happily to the forest in general. She can see and hear a few beasts around, which can only mean more people to play with.

Hactor gasped for air, dropping his swaord and clawing at the noose. He could't beleave how stupid he had been! Stopping for a breath. Certainly something the fox wouldn't have done in his younger years. He had managed to slip his hand under the noose, but now feared he would choke /and/ breake his fingers. He kicked and flaled on his back now,slowly being chocked.

Frigg follows the little bat, concerned for her! The king is behind, and both are still significantly behind and don't see the three resting ahead of Rodigero. The mousemaid calls up at her, "Poppy! Please, don't rest there! We don't know what might be up ahead!" She looks at the king, "Oh, I hope her lighthearted mood is an indication of what we'll find, and not just her nature..." She looks, as always, worried.

Stubb jerks awake. "Oy." He smacks his lips and peers peevishly at the lizard. "Oi'm up." He scratches his head. "Wha dis i'?" His bleary eyes swing through the clearing mist. "Oi din' hear nuffin'. Le' me sleep!"

With a despaired grunt and the support of his uninjured hand, Angus eases into a cautious crouch. He shakes his huge frame, sloughing off the windblown snow that had gathered on his clothing. "What the," the lizard rasps, and laps his tongue in the direction of the disembodied hello. He rolls half a glance at Amos. "Can ye' stand on yer own?" Before the cat has time to answer, Angus flinches. The vibrations of marching soldiers radiate up his lower limbs, and the dragon is stricken by brief panic. "No, mate--they're approachin'. Fast."

Angus clenches his teeth in a worried grimace. "I ain't crazy. I swear t'yew."

Rayuwil nods, "I have to be honest, missus, I think it is very much in her nature. She's been that way most of the time with us. But anyway, we have the area secure, I think, although I hadn't expected those others to go outside of our perimeter. Let's hope the fox hadn't managed that as well."

"Oki Missus Frog! No-restin' here, nope! Lotsa friends! Lotsa games, yep!" She calls back gleefully and plunges from the branch, right for the injured group of three, and perhaps worryingly out of sight of Frigg and Rodigero... "Hi!" She's obnoxiously loud and cheerful for such a tiny thing, addressing the most awake looking of them; the lizard. "Are you gonna play widda two foxies?!"

Amos is mostly leaning against the tree, driven to get to his footpaws and sustained by pain in keeping his senses. He takes a moment to breath hard but manages to take sight of Poppy for a moment before turning to grin at the lizard, "Am fine, " Barely able to lift his head but grinning before turning to look at Stubb, "Get up ain't care if ya is the boss, ain't no time for sleeping!'

Hactor still continues to kick and struggle. His fingers still arn't broken, and he can somehow still suck in a few gasps of air. Then using all his might he turns on his side and attempts to bit his assaliant's leg..

Tundutwaa eyes his escape... the same strategic escape he'd used on the squirrels who thought they had him boxed in. A large stone at the base of a tree... the fox's tone grows frustrated as he speaks through gritted teeth at Hactor, "Come on, old tod, I hafn't all day to wait for you to pass out!"

Angus, alarmed by the abrupt intrusion of the bat, instinctively thrashes his tail. The gesture knocks the brute to his rump, and rends him rather mortified when he gets a decent look at poppy. "Howdy, lass," he stammers, craning to check if the bat is closely followed by other, more intimidating, creatures. "F-foxes, ye' said?" The lizard gradually regains composure, but casts a forlorn look at his maimed paw, which has begun to ooze through its bandages. "Fer th' love of toads, mates, we .. we ain't in no shape t'scuffle. We gotta' flee." Stumbling to his feet, Angus heads for the wildcat. "C'mon, I kin' prolly' getcha' on my shoulderd 'r somethin', if ye' can't stand."

Hactor still continues to kick and struggle. His fingers still arn't broken, and he can somehow still suck in a few gasps of air. But Tudutwaa's grip tighetns, casuing Hactor's fingers to squeeze his windpipe. The od fox somehow manages to give a defiant snarl, before passing out.

Frigg looks to the king, "Ay, suppose you're right..." Her eyes widen, "Friends, Poppy??! Wait!!" She and the king both rush ahead, and Frigg trips right over Rodigero and falls on top of him! "Ohhhhhh!!!"

Rayuwil exclaims, "Oooof!!!! Gahd, miss Fri'!!" He gingerly leans up on an elbow and helps the mousemaid up, looking back at the impassive king Nidlorf, "I wasn't sleepin', si-, Sorell, I promise! Did just as you said, but they ain't moved none... I created a bit o' noise, so I didn't move, but I see it ain't matter none now." He looks after Poppy. "Should we go in to see why they're still a- er, all huddled around?""

"Oooof!!!! Gahd, miss Fri'!!" Rodigero gingerly leans up on an elbow and helps the mousemaid up, looking back at the impassive king Nidlorf, "I wasn't sleepin', si-, Sorell, I promise! Did just as you said, but they ain't moved none... I created a bit o' noise, so I didn't move, but I see it ain't matter none now." He looks after Poppy. "Should we go in to see why they're still a- er, all huddled around?""

Amos makes the effort in standing up, somewhat falls against Angus before he moves to lean his good shoulder against the lizard, "Curses, bloody leg, " He sighs, "Stubb, get ya ruttin' arse up or I'm gonna kick it!" He growls and hisses, biting his lip and clinching at the pain.

Tundutwaa feels the older fox go limp and checks for a pulse. Good. The fox gives a look of disdain at the fox on the ground, curling up his snout at the limp sack of bones before shoving the stone aside. He chuckles to himself. "Well, now, I was just coming back to duck down here to safety... but you can come along. After you, your lordship!" He grins, tossing the fox callously into the damp, dark underground.

Poppy beams a lighthouse beam of cheerfulness at the large lizard. "Nonono! Not toadses! Foxies! They're playing over there!" She points her wing in one direction, then another, getting it a little off both times anyway. "Ohohoh! And my mouseysquiggle friends are coming too, yep! They're over there!" This time she points, unknowingly, toward the foxes.

Stubb shoots Angus an ill-mannered look, but he begins reluctantly to rise. Grasping the trunk of the pine tree with one arm and pushing out his feet, he manages bit by labored bit to work his way upright. "'Oo's comin', den?" He looks bemusedly at Poppy, then back at the lizard, rather churlishly. "Whoi don' you use your famous sniffin' powers ta tell me dat? 'Oo's comin' an' whoi's i' more impor'an' dan moi beau'y res'?"

Without another invite, the saurian behemoth gathers a hold around the cat's waist and hefts him aloft a shoulder. "Hyuff--up yew go, kitteh," he describes to Amos, as if the cat was unaware of his new, not particularly dignified, perch. Angus sputters a bit, as a feline tail finds itself a bit too close to his nose. "Keep that thing under control, tho', mate," he rasps to the cat, still stifling the urge to sneeze. As Stubb rejoins the waking world, Angus knits his scaly brows. "*Alla' 'em*--" A toss of his head in Poppy's direction, and the lizard continues, "But mostly I don' want a run in with th'dogs right now, aye, mate?"

"Nonono! Notta dogs, silly newtsy!" The little bat giggles, then looks to Stubb. "Notta sleepy time! 'S a play time! Missus Frog and Roddery Joe ares a coming, yep! They's really nice! The foxies were playing games with ropes, but I do not hear them so much so mebbeh they are done widda game..."

Frigg comes bolting into the clearing. "Oh!" She bows to the three, clearing her throat, "Um, friends, yes... Poppy, please don't bother these... gents. You can sit on... Rodigero's head, he doesn't mind it at all." She's still a little frightened of her - she's no ordinary dibbun, after all..

Rodigero looks over at Frigg, "Excuse me? I ain't no batkeeper, ma'am... although I ain't afraid o' such a little creature either. At least I don' pretend to care, though. Huh!" He nods at the three vermin and turns to head back, but is face to face with Nidlorf, who glares icicles at him.

"Sorry mate, " Amos clings to Angus, breathing a bit harder just at that little moment so far. Though continuing to use the pain to drive his senses further awake as he grabs at his thigh and looks at their surroundings. He blinks, strange little bat. Seems familar, but also looking to the others. Frigg too, he relaxes a bit against Angus.

Staring straight through the soldier, the squirrelking walks around him towards the scene. At the last moment, he peels his gaze off of the inept squirrel and holds out his arm, "Poppy, come. I see you fellows have had quite a night. We have company, then." He looks down at Angus' fingers, "/Close/ company. My goodness, /what/ did that?"

Stubb pulls his pack on with a wince. He nods, moping. He trudges over to where his other dagger fell from his vest when he tossed it to Amos and deftly kicks it into the air and catches it. The weasel smiles tightly, evidently pleased with his private acrobatics. He catches a whiff of the king's voice and glares up at him. "We go' bloody shot a'. Odd you manage ta miss i', ain' i'." He struggles against fatigue and anemia to muster an accusation.

Angus slumps in an exasperated wince as the bat prattles on, and, as Frigg glides forth, knobby lizard knees almost buckle. Rallying strength, he straightens, adjusting Amos with a grunt. "Ma'am," the dragon half-heartedly greets the elderly mouse. ".. And--bleedin' bones, th' whole damned forest came fer a visit." The cat and the reptile are facing opposite directions, so it makes conversation interesting; Angus pivots to let Amos get a proper look at the others, but also to initiate escape. "A cat," the lizard snorts, for the benefit of the king, but does not bother to face him. He begins trudging to the edge of the brushy niche, his feet sinking deep in the fallen snow with the added weight of his comrade. "C'mon, Stubbster--th' tree rats ain't worth our breath."

Stubb limps behind. His paw darts periodically to his torn abdomen. "An' where do you propose we go?" He addresses both Angus' back and Amos' head. "Don' seem we can go noplace wifou' runnin' into one army or anuvver, ma'e..." He sniffles and drags his paws through the powder.

Frigg doesn't know what to say... she's happy to see Angus alive, happy that Poppy's 'friends' were indeed at least not ready to eat or otherwise harm her... the mousemaid spins in circles trying to take it all in. "Was it the fox? Did you all see the fox, then? What... he didn't shoot the arrows, though?" At Stubb's accusation, she turns to Nidlorf, "Those weren't y... the squirrels, were they?"

Amos holds to the lizard and lowers his head after taking a peak at the others, "Where we ain't getting shot at.. and can rest without the bastard cold at our breath, " Voicing his opinion, adding, "Aye, what the lizard said."

Rayuwil huffs, first to Stubb, and then speaking to Frigg, but still with his eyes on the weasel, "Certainly not. Although, I admit... proper introductions weren't made - so it was unwise for you lot to go traipsing around our perimeter." He looks at Angus, "A... cat? Not your friend, here, I hope!" He looks at Amos blankly. "Must have been an awfully confusing battle, then."

Poppy looks at the King's arm, flutters toward it, and is distracted by a snowflake halfway there! With a giggle, she veers off, chasing the pretty thing as it whirls and dances toward Frigg.

Frigg eeeeps!!! She sees the little bat looming larger in her vision!! No, no! The mousemaid blows at the snowflake, hoping to push it away! No hope; it lands right on her nose! She backs up to the nearest tree, eyes going from Poppy to cross-eyed in front of her. Why won't the thing melt?! It's still a perfectly beautiful, crystaline sculpture, sitting right atop her nose. Frigg closes her eyes, gripping the bark behind her and scrunching up her shoulders!

".. I .. I dunno', mate," the lizard admits to Stubb as he walks, swinging his head in one direction and then the next. If there is a path in this portion of the forest, it has long since vanished beneath snow. Demonstrating his glaring lack of respect, Angus does not answer Rayuwil, and continues to navigate his way out of the thicket, cat in tow and weasel presumably trailing. "Y'know, mates--if th' foxes'r still close, I bet the hare is, too." This last bit is uttered quietly, as if the dragon was aware of its foreboding implication.

Tundutwaa wastes no time in following Hactor down the hole and replacing the rock. But not before giving one final glance in Angus' direction. The lizard comes just into view, just as the stone is replaced and sits still. There are a dozen like it, not quite as large, but all scattered about and making the larger rather likely by association.

That's right, Dangeon still needs their help. He blinks, moving with Angus somewhat helplessly, "Dangeon, " He says somewhat lightheaded, "I'll need a weapon if I'm gonna run that bastard through."

Stubb is torn between the two conversations, so he pauses first to look sharply at Rayuwil. "Oi'm no' in tha mood for more a your tales jes' now, puff-tail. Oi jes' got one question for you." He turns toward him. "Do you know where tha fox took Dangeon and moi treasure? If you don' got an answer for tha', oi don' fink we'll 'ave much more need for you an' your tree-rat koind." He glances at Angus' retreating back.

Rayuwil watches Poppy go off in Frigg's direction, and slowly turns back to the weasel. "Do I know? I would like to ask you the same - I'm hearing about foxes, and another army I'm unaware of... so you seem to know more than I do. But, if you haven't seen anything, then I'm afraid our position is closer to the fox than yours. And... what treasure?" Nidlorf's head pivots, his stare on Stubb growing more curious.

Poppy flaps in front of Frigg and attempts to land on the mouse's head. She's small and light enough, though Frigg's aversion to her may make this difficult. She has only one goal, however; eat that snowflake! And she doesn't seem to care where it might have landed.

The mousemaid cringes as she feels the familiar weight of the bat. "Poppeeeeeey! Dear, please..." She opens her eyes to find the little one crawling towards the end of her nose! She exhales nervously, shuddering and closing her eyes again...

Angus travels a few meters more, then halts, with the intent of gleaning his bearings. His wispily bearded chin tilts a notch, and the lizard allows his eyelids to sink--to shut out one branch of distractions. Gliding from his toothy home, his tongue dances in the air. He mulls over the various things it finds, matching each to an experience or a forest factoid. Then, abruptly, his eyes snap wide and alarmed. "They been this way .. just now," he whispers, as if convinced the vulpine source could still be dangerously near. The lizard whirls, glancing to the ground. "Lookat' this, mates--somethin' dropped here." He attempts to point with his bad hand; this is moderately ineffective, given what it lacks in digits.

Amos is lugged around like so much dead weight making various noises of pain as he holds onto the lizard. Just determined to hold on and keep from being totally useless. He grunts at Angus' discovery.

Stubb averts his gaze, preferring to pretend not to hear Rayuwil's query. He shuffles forward, mumbling, "Well, if you don' know nuffin', oi won' be boverin' you no more." He creeps up alongside Angus. "Foin' somefin'?"

Angus shrugs. He almost drops the cat. "Smells like th'foxes. N'looks like some sorta' scuffle."

Amos yowl's and hisses at the lizard, clinging tighter to him and catching his breath.

Angus waggles his bloody hand, which dribbles droplets of crimson from its makeshift bandage. He steps back, surveying the spot beneath them. "Kin' yew see it, kitteh?" The dragon wheels around, allowing Amos a better view.

Amos stares at the spot in his vision, "Aye, I see it, " He grins, "We're close!"

Hactor meenwhile is still at the bottom of the hole with the Executioner. He is begening to come to, but is still half out of his wits.

The thought of being close to his goal stirs Stubb's energies to life. "Close!" He ducks to avoid the swinging cat's head as Angus swivels. "Fink so, eh?" He squints at the ground, now dimly colored in the white light of morning.

Poppy only wants to eat the snowflake. Once she has done that, or the snowflake melts, she'll be taking off again with a "Thankoo Missus Frog!" and darting after the next.

Angus stoops, allowing Amos to slip from his shoulder. After tenderly placing the cat on his own feet--or rear, should he be unable to stand--the lizard rubs at the back of his neck, and bobs a confident nod. He walks the perimeter of the area, tongue flitting, and then quirks a befuddled brow. "Not sure .. how .. er," he mumbles. "S'like they vanished. No tracks headin' off. Just t'that tree?"

Frigg blinks, watching the bat fly off after her twisted, malificent idea of fun has worn off! Her heart melts once again, and she sees Nidlorf going back with Rodigero, and the crew heading in the other direction. "Why aren't we follow... I'm so confused!" She sticks with her interests, which lie pretty much solely in the king, as she slowly makes her way in his direction.

Amos manages to stand, barely. He tracks Angus' movements but doesn't move from that spot as he puts most of his weight on his leg without an arrow in it.

Angus ogles the wobbly wildcat. With a half-cocked smile, the lizard shakes his head, and travels to the nearest tree limb. A short, if awkward, jump permits him contact with the branch, to which he determinedly clings. His feet are a few inches from the ground, and the dragon begins to swing and rock. The branch bends and croaks, anguished not by the one-handed grip, but by the bulky creature that dangles from it. Eventually, the timber gives way, and Angus hits the ground with a snort. Examining the limb briefly, he removes unwanted twigs, and presents the improvised crutch to Amos. "Here, mate--try puttin' yer weight on this, eh?"

Amos main focus is in staying standing, but he watches the lizard curiously before smiling as he's recieves the cruch, "Thanks mate, " He clutches, moving to lean against it, "Now if only I had a weapon, then I'd be ready to go get that fox and skewer him through!" No sooner his words out of his mouth though is he leaning heavily against the crutch and out of breath again from the pain in his leg.

"If yew find somethin' else t'lean on, y'kin just swing th' branch," Angus quips with a wink.

Stubb watches dully. His wits seem to have mostly left him, but he gamely smiles at Amos' new toy. "Well," he nods to where the tracks end. "What are you finkin' about i', Angus?"

Amos nods to Angus, "Aye, " Turns to smile at Stubb, "I think we follow the tracks and liberate that pain in the arse hare, " He grunts, "I may be half useless, but we still gots a mission to complete."

Angus scrunches his squamous snout. "Not too sure, boss," he admits, and flutters his tongue nervously. "I'm supposin' they did one a'two things: either went up," the lizard motions to the treetops as he says this, squinting at the tangled branches. "Th'dog was hoppin' about up there like a regular tree rat last night. Then again, can't really picture him doin' it with somethin'--some beast--in his clutches. So .." He makes another glance to his left and right, then over his shoulder, to solidify his belief that the two foxes did not simply run off on foot. ".. Perhaps we need us a mole?" He flashes an anxious smile.

Stubb looks back to where he left Rayuwil, then again to the monitor. "A coupla armed tree-puffs moigh' no' be so bad. Don' know if oi can even swing me arm in moi sta'e." He assays to carry such a motion threw, but it sends him into a paroxysm of pain that sweeps convulsively across his body and draws his paw swiftly to his injured side. "Long as we keep dem in front, a course." He shrugs, his brows falling sorrowfully off at the sides. "Your call, 'gus."

Angus squats, rubbing at the wrist of his mangled hand in contemplation. Lucky for the lizard, his extremities are mostly numbed by the cold; he is aware of an uncomfortable throb, but the pain is muffled by slow-firing nerves. The fellow is functioning solely on adrenaline, but it begins to wane, as the trio is stuck without direction once more. "Can't argue with ye', mate," he concedes, closing his eyes to soak up a few glorious moments of the now flourishing sunlight. "I'm thinkin' the tree rats'll be back for us, either way."

Amos clings to the stick and grunts in apparent agreement.

Stubb's giant, cute eyes crease in distress. "Prolly shou'n' a to'd 'im off. Din' fink we'd be goin inta ba'tle quoi'e so soon." He grins. "You go ask 'im, lizard. You're de only one a us dat's got a lick a strengf still in 'im."

Angus drops to his rear and huffs, "If it's all th'same t'yew, I'd prefer t'just wait it out. Don't think he's exactly pleased with me, either, mate." The lizard folds his legs, and rests his arms against his knees. "Anyhow, I bet if we get t'yellin', they'll come a'runnin'." He continues to stare at the sight of the apparent fracas, and the peculiar vulpine imprint in the show. "Y'know, not all beasts travel by treetops, mates," he says, clucking his tongue.

Amos stares oblivious while clutching to the makeshift staff, at least until the last bit. He hobbles closer to the tracks, looking down at them, "Aye, ya got an idea don't'cha?"

"Sorta'," Angus tells the cat, lifting a hand to pluck at the frosted strands of his beard. "Well, like I said, yaknow'--this cagey dog fellow? Perhaps he's got himself a lair somewhere. Or a .. a burrow? Where d'dogs sleep?" The lizard twists his lips in a frown. "An', either way, if he does, all we gotta' do is find th'entry."

"Course 'e's got 'isse'f a hole." Stubb chuckles. "Ain' seen many tree-cloimbin' foxes, 'cept me ole ma'e, an dat were a mizzen-mast, no' a proper tree." He grimaces down at the ground. "You're roigh' about a mole comin' in useful, but wishes ain' gonna do us much good. Your nose or, er, tongue'll 'ave ta sui' us."

Angus unwinds the frown. "Or yer' adorably huge eyes," Angus says with a smirk. "S'probably prints in the snow up t'where ever they descended, if they did, in fact, do some descendin'." He glances to Amos. "Anything look outta' place over there, kitteh? Some peculiar leaves 'n branches? Kin' yew push a right knot on th' tree 'n reveal some hidden tunnel?"

Amos is hobbling a bit better now, numbness or necessity has driven him to not be so imobile about the pain, "Nay, can't see a bloody thing but snow and branches, " He shakes his, blinking and turning to look at the archway and stones, "Mmm, might be sumtin'."

Stubb's paltry skills are of no further service, either, but this only stokes his anxiousness to get a move on. "Well? Hurry up?" He limps through the snow. "Can' be so 'ard ta follow tha tracks, can i'? Dey must a lef' a pre'ty stink. Oi'd a though' one a you'd a picked up on i'."

Angus, firing Stubb a short but resentful glare, shoves to his feet. The lizard tucks his injured hand in his jacket, propping the other on his hip, as he saunters melodramatically throughout the area. He pokes his tongue at various things--the arch, a tree, Amos--before parting his lips to moan, "Oh .. toadgizzards, I just can't seemta' find where th'bloody arsho--*ach .. ow!*" The lizard is hopping on one foot, having stubbed the other on a sizable stone slab.

Amos approaches closer to the archway, looking curiously at the stones, "Over here mate, ya don't smell nutin' or any damn fox?"

Stubb follows rather uselessly behind Amos.

Angus does all the dirty work. Sighing, he navigates among the stones, examining each. It would seem one of the slabs has been recently moved, as it does not sit squarely with its imprint in the snow. "Feh?" he squawks, still half-limping from the jammed toes.

Amos hobbles forward closer to the stones, "Ah ha, " He grins, moving to press and paw over the stone, "Here, move this stone Angus, we're close!"