Isuma Reep!ed happily at the trill and set her four limbs to resist the tugging when Sugar took up the other end of the tail. Being smaller, she was pulled forward, but fluttered her little wing nubs in happiness as she fought back with fierce, if tiny, determination.
Jigano, meanwhile, had caught the scent of a vole run a little ways off. It was faint, just a small hole poked through the snow, but it gave him a place to start. Stepping with exaggerated care he focused his ears on the ground beneath the snow, trying to sense the scurry of little paws...
Sugar was, perhaps, the more controlled of the two young creatures, but she was also older. Isuma had never had someone her size to play with before, and she still didn't realize how sharp her beak could be. After a few minutes of tug-of-war she got too excited and bit down too hard on the increasingly-ragged mouse tail, shearing her end off - and sending herself tumbling backwards to land, surprised, in the soft snow. It was instinct that had her slurping down the little bit of tail in her beak before she wriggled back to her feet, covered in powder and chirruping a sad little apology at Sugar as she came back.
The fox, meanwhile, was certain that he'd heard a squeak. Nothing was moving, that he could sense, but just to the north of him was a feel of something small and alive and ready to run if he tried to dig. So he did what any self-respecting fox would do: he crouched, made certain of his angle--
And pounced, driving down through the snow blind but confident. This time he closed his jaws gently around his prey as his tail and hind legs flagged above the drift, black pawpads startling against the white fur and snow around him. He pulled himself out carefully, and resisted shaking the snow off his head as the little vole trembled violently in his toothy grip.
Jigano, meanwhile, had caught the scent of a vole run a little ways off. It was faint, just a small hole poked through the snow, but it gave him a place to start. Stepping with exaggerated care he focused his ears on the ground beneath the snow, trying to sense the scurry of little paws...
Sugar was, perhaps, the more controlled of the two young creatures, but she was also older. Isuma had never had someone her size to play with before, and she still didn't realize how sharp her beak could be. After a few minutes of tug-of-war she got too excited and bit down too hard on the increasingly-ragged mouse tail, shearing her end off - and sending herself tumbling backwards to land, surprised, in the soft snow. It was instinct that had her slurping down the little bit of tail in her beak before she wriggled back to her feet, covered in powder and chirruping a sad little apology at Sugar as she came back.
The fox, meanwhile, was certain that he'd heard a squeak. Nothing was moving, that he could sense, but just to the north of him was a feel of something small and alive and ready to run if he tried to dig. So he did what any self-respecting fox would do: he crouched, made certain of his angle--
And pounced, driving down through the snow blind but confident. This time he closed his jaws gently around his prey as his tail and hind legs flagged above the drift, black pawpads startling against the white fur and snow around him. He pulled himself out carefully, and resisted shaking the snow off his head as the little vole trembled violently in his toothy grip.
