The yearling skittered sideways with a high-pitched whine emanating from his clenched jaws, body crouching low to the ground next to one of the trees. He was certain something had moved up ahead and was leaving no room for him to be jumped on from behind. This forest felt wrong. It was too quiet. The whistling of bird song had disappeared as soon as he had entered the forest, but Nevrakis had just assumed it was due to the darkness cast by the thick canopies. It was only when he had gone in too far to find his way back out that he had realized his mistake.
He could feel his heart thudding in his chest; his breath came out in panting gasps. He needed to find a way out of this place. Gathering up what little courage he had, the yearling slowly moved forward, but at the feeling of something tugging roughly at his fur he shot forward with a loud yelp. Abandoning all sense of lucid thought, he ran full tilt in one direction, knowing that at some point he had to reach the end of the forest.