He yelped softly as the lowest branches reached over, leafy fingers stretching for nothing, infused by life by the harsh winds. He had been unprepared, out in the open, when the sky had darkened from its soft blues to the ominous deep greys, and Ziigwan had no desire to be exposed if and when the storm finally broke. He ducked under the rustling trees and scampered on, seeking shelter, but where? He had no idea where he was, no idea where safety could be sought from the war of the winds and rain and thunder. He knew a dozen different locations back home, places to hide until storms broke, places to best sneak up on neighbouring herds, places to retreat to be undisturbed. Panicked as he was, he didn't even trust him to be sure that he wasn't going to be trespassing, as unlikely as that would be, but he only had his nose to tell him where not to tread, for his memory held no such warnings.
Ziigwan could only drive further into the trees, and with each passing trunk the air became a little calmer, though the howl of winds was ever present in the canopies above. He could not hear himself pant, could not hear the sound of his own footsteps, could only dash onwards and hope that shelter lay in front and not behind. He stumbled over a tree's root, something he was sure no native would have done, and almost barrelled straight into a thick, low bush, its wiry twigs catching his face as if trying to pull him in. Desperately finding his feet once more, the foreigner scurried on, deeper, until -
With a wet sploosh and a high yelp, the ground beneath him was suddenly gone, and Ziigwan found himself shoulder-deep in water, for a few seconds completed cognitively disconnected from his situation until survival instincts kicked in, and he pulled his paws from the muddy water's bottom and pulled back. A few seconds later and he was on the shore again, wet and cold and confused and furious with himself. If the tree root had been embarrassing, this was nothing short of shameful, for who ran headfirst into what was obviously a lagoon unless you were a moron? Scoffing at himself, the indecency at least had the effect of distracting him from the storm, which he swiftly realised was not yet affecting the water's surface, for most of the violent ripples were caused by the sudden addition of him. Growling to himself, Ziigwan looked upwards, and saw the sky as grey as ever - but the lake was as yet protected by its guardian forest. How long would that last? He supposed it depended on how harsh the storm would be if it broke.
He was tired of running and making a fool out of himself. Backing up against one of the nearby trees where its huge, ancient roots provided rudimentary cover from the left and the right, he shook himself before crouching down, staring out over the water, watching his ripples fade, dis-quietened by its relative stillness. It felt entirely unnatural. He wouldn't be coming here again.