This time it was a squirrel. A very big, very fluffy, very red squirrel with tufty ears, so it reminded her of a maple leaf and she thought it might be fun to try to catch.

She remembered chasing them with the other pups in the Vale, a race nobody ever won but the squirrel, but somehow you never cared if you lost. Half the time you got scolded and pelted with acorns for the trouble, and even then, it didn't stop being fun.

It had been more fun when she had friends to chase them with... but she wasn't deterred today.

The squirrel at present was, understandably, less invested in her game. When her head peeked over a lichen-speckled rock close by, it turned in sudden startle. Bolted!

Liss scrambled after, tossing up damp leaves and alfisol in her wake, cackling with gleeful growl as it darted away from her encroaching snout.

Right into a particular nearby bush.

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