For Tomarrow We Dine...part 2

"Hold tight onto what!" The fox practically shrieks. Head forward he wraps his arms and legs around the branch as it leans downard, "Destra! You are /sure/ you are not trying to get me killed?" This was it, he was going to fall to his death and then eagles would come and eat him to puke him up and feed his splattered meat to their babies. Oh joy...

"The branch, silly foxthing!" Destra giggles, enjoying the jokes this strange creature is telling him. "But, best be speedy - catch a'self quick!" And then tiny talons release their grip on the limb and send the mini-eagle plummeting into darkness - but the sudden sound of Destra catching himself on the next branch down announce his continued existence. From a distance, his voice floats its way back up towards Rascal. "Gonna let grip go, yes?"

"No, no, no, no, nononononoooooooooo-" The fox's quick reply is made even quicker when he begins to slide off the branch. There isn't time to even scream, he just continues to slip away from the branch, arms flailing through the air. By some miracle he catches the next one down by a single paw, hanging there, dangling over the abyss.

Looking down at Rascal, Destra tilts his head and blinks massive, golden eyes. "Foxthing needs to be quiet, ja? Mama would not be pleased with Destra to see he has let another guest fall." He shakes his head, stepping up the branch, towards the base, to allow Rascal room to haul himself up on it. "The last two could not even make food. Mama was /not/ happy."

The darkness hides the fox's frightfull glare. "The last two were..." his voice begins to rise. Interrupting himself to pull himself up the fox takes a moment to gather his wits, daring himself to not look over his shoulder and try to gage just how high up he is. It was an illusion to imagine that the ground was only a foot or two away in the darkness. An illusion that let him even move about at /all/.

Taking a moment to collect himself the fox leans backwards, leg's drapped over either end of the branch. "Listen Fl- Destra. Uncle Foxy Loxy would very much to NOT go SPLAT. How much farther are we going?" His eyes twitch every so often. If only the bird could lead him just halfway down the tree...

"So close, foxthing, /so/ close we are!" Destra chirps, hopping up and down in his excitement. While small, the motion is enough to make the branch lurch in a mild, but still stomach churning, bounce. "It is right here, ja, right here! Come!"

Once again finding himself wrapped arms and legs against the branch the foxthing waits for the vibrations to stop. "You just had to become a traveler, didn't you Rascal? You couldn't become a lawyer like your brother or the leader of a horde like your sister. Just HAD to live the easy life, didn't ya." Rascal says, mimicking the voice of another fox. If only his mother could see him now, she would laugh her tail off. Slowly Rascal tears himself away from his safe spot to follow the bird. His poor nerves are all but shot.

"Alright, I'm here, I'm here. What is it you want me to /see/."

"See, see!" The little bird hops, excitedly, and scrambles along the branch to pass Rascal again and allow him a better view of the thing. The 'thing' in question, is actually just a sizeable hole in the bark of the tree - upon closer inspection it appears to be bottomless - probably going about halfway down the trunk, if not the whole dizzying distance to the forest floor. "Foxthing see? See good, ja??" He chirps and flutters his downy feathers in his overwhelming enthusiasm. "Foxthing has to see /good/!" He urges Rascal closer to the hole, flapping his wings to maintain his balance. "Is it the bottom you see?" He pleads, hopping further forward as he herds Rasal closer and closer. "See good?" And then Destra rushes forward - aiming to ram his tiny, fluffy body into Rascal's back and send him careening down the dark hole.

Rolling his eyes at his first encounter with the mythical hole in the tree the fox decides to stick his head inside for but a moment to humor the bird, "Yes yes, it's a pretty hole but I don't seeEAAAAHHHHH!" He yelps as the bird pushes him further into the hole. The already clumsey fox loses his ballence and falls inside head first into his certain doom.

The hole itself is a hollow cylinder which runs to the very base of the tree - however, luckily for Rascal - it is not an even descent. There are many knots and slants - places where the bark is thin enough to substantially slow or catch a falling fox. But, to slow a descent does not change the inevitability of entrapment at the bottom. There is no way out but up. "How does foxthing see /now/?" The voice, still chirping with tiny giggles, echoes its way down through the tree's cavernous opening. "See better from the bottom? Shame you did not splat like last meal. One time, guest get bone-stabbed on another - was such fun! Ja, fun, fun. Mama does not like when Destra takes foodguests, but in making her a pretty foxthing necklace, she will forgive Destra. Mama always forgives Destra."

The fox, landing head first into the bottom, is only saved from his sure demise by the slope of the tree. He finds himself wedged somewhat in the hollow of the tree, wriggling back and forth until he can see, in general, the bird's location through his own fluffy tail. His eyes gleam murderous rage even in the dark.

"You little rat!" rascal struggles to curl into a ball and move about inside the tree until his feet are planted on the floor. "You nasty little monster! I'll cook you for supper! I'll make chicken wings out of you!" He beats his fist against the wall of his new prison. "Get me out of here!"

"Foxthing should not be so sad, should not pout - no. This is bad for one's complexion, so Mama says." Fluffing the feathers at his neck, Destra giggles again. "Is foxthing not comfortable? Is company, foxthing seeks?" He wiggles his tail feathers. "Because mama will have to bring /new/ foodguest when foxthing is not there in the morning. Maybe Destra brings a friend?"

The fox's eyes quiver with fear. This pyscotic little monster was going to just...LEAVE him here? What about food? What about water? See? See? This is why no one should trust dibbuns! Thinks the fox who was trying to become a school teacher. "W-wait! You can't just leave me here!" Rascal tries to climb but only slides back down. This can't be how he dies, outfoxed by a baby bird! "W-who will I share the treasure with?" The words just blurt out of Rascal at this point so he decides to just run with it. Adrenoline high and fear coursing through his veins he is clinging to straws at this point. eagle or not, it's still a dibbun, so it can be reasoned with like a dibbun, he hopes. "Yes! The treasure! You won't believe what I just found down here!"

For a long moment, there is only silence. Destra must have left poor Rascal there, all alone, to slowly perish at the bottom of the tree. But then - from inside the tree, only feet above where Rascal himself is huddled: "Treasure?" The eagle, in the dark, twists his head from side to side. "Treasure?"

Eagles, while they are not as adept at this as owls, are able to swoop in silently on their prey - allowing nary a sound. While there would have been some mild scrabbling during the tiny bird's descent, he has obviously been doing this for some time and knows the place like the back of his wing.

When silence fills the air the fox leans his fore head against the bark of the tree, tears welling up in his eyes.

Ears fidgeting to the sound of the birds voice Rascal looks up slowly, coy smile on his face. "Uh uh uh. You will have to get your own treasure. This one is mine, all for foxy-kins and grown birdies and not little hatchlings like yourself." He curls his paw into a ball and holds it away from the bird, as if he is holding something, something precious.

Destra can not see the fox's action in the dark, but he can /feel/ the treasure with all of his tiny, gullible heart! Surely, it is there. "Foxthing will give it to Destra!" He pouts, gasping with the sudden inevitability of a full-blown temper tantrum. "Foxthing will give it /now/!"

"Birdthing should not be so sad, should not pout. This is bad for one's complexion." The fox leans his back against the wall of the tree, smiling gleefully, "Sucha pitty too. The treasure is so /fancy/ and so SHINY. You're little sibblings would be /sooooo/ jealous."

"You must give it /now/! NOW, NOW!" In the darkness, tiny claws can be heard scrambling against the bark of the tree in agitation. Destra is hopping up and down in his tiny rage. "Foxthing gives it now! /NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW/!"

The fox rolls his eyes, "Do you really want to know what the treasure is? Alright, alright you got me. Just don't go and get yer tail feathers in a fix. Here, come closer to get your treasure." He holds up his paw to the bird, still clentched around an unseen object. Slowly he begins to unwravel his fist one finger at a time to reveal an empty paw.

"See? It's called my golden ticket out of here..." and he leaps upward with all his energy, seeking to wrap his paws around the bird and drag her back down to the bottom of the tree.

"Yes! Yes, treasure for Destr-EEK!" The tiny eagle is suddenly grappled onto and dragged down! Fighting desperately, he flaps his wings and kicks out tiny, taloned feet. "FOXTHING LIES!" He screeches, twisting and struggling in Rascal's grip. "MAMA SAYS LYING IS BAD! FOXTHING IS BAD! BAD!"

The fox takes more than one scratch to his muzzle but his torso takes the brunt of it. He yelps, securing his grip around the eagle's wings. "Yes, foxthing IS bad. He is a dirty rotten liar, just like his fluffy little comrade who likes to DROP foodguests down dark and deep holes. But foxthing is also fond of games. I think we will play one right now. It's rather simple. You tell foxthing how to get out of here before foxthing get's /hungry/..."

Little Destra is helpless as he is stuffed and wrangled into Rascal's makeshift binds. "MAMAAAAAA!" He continues to screech - even as the powerful sound of her wings shake the air outside the tree. "/DESTRA/!" She gasps, sticking her massive head through the hole in the bark. "What is the meaning of this? Why have you taken my hatchling like this? Are you a monster who snatches eggs in the night? Explain yourself!" Her rage echoes in her voice and trembles the very walls of their wooden prison.

"And there mama is, right on time." The fox says as he finishes tieing off his belt. Paws on his hips he looks up and shouts back, "Ah put a pipe in it you big over grown feather duster." This was going to end in flames, he just knew it. The danger was great but if he played his cards...or rather single car...right...

"Right, I just happened to sneak into your nest and drag your little munchkin psycopath into a tree hallow I have never been seen before." he begins to growl, "Destra led me here to play the 'drop the fox in the deep dark hole to DIE' game. To be frank I prefure I didn't find it too amuzing...at least, not as amuzing as the game we are about to play." His smile flashes in the darkness.

"Destra... Destra did this thing you speak of?" Her rage quiets, and she shifts back and forth on her feet. "We will play no game - you will let him go, yes? You do this, I do anything you want - of course! Yes, this I do."

"Waffles." Says the fox in reply, "I want a big stinking pile of waffles. Failing that I want out of here. And I most certainly do NOT want to die and be regurgitated to your little monsters." The fox shivers. "Look lady, I don't want to harm Destra, I just want to be free. Got that? So as soon as you make that happen I will gladly leave your little murder monster in training with you." The fox sits down, arms behind his head, "You should also hurry. After all, I havn't eaten since yesterday and I'm /starving/."

"Yes, yes - of course just do not harm the hatchling, I beg of you!" Anxiously, the eagle steps back. "I will be back - Destra is not to be harmed! If hurt befalls the eggchick, Kizhna will pull the spine from a hole in the foodguest's back and beat it to death with it." There is an angry, poignant pause. "Kizhna will return in short."

The fox is very, very glad that Kizhna can not see his terrified expression as he vividly imagines such a thing. Would that even be possible? If a beast was able to pull that feat off an eagle would be the one to do it. He doesn't reply, just gulps.

Turning his attention back to the other bird he uses Destra as a sort of foot rest as he sprawls out in the hollow of the tree, "So, Fluffy-kins. What lesson have we learned from all of this?"

"Foxthings is EVIL!" The tiny, fierce, psychopath cries, tears clouding his vision. "Destra will kill /all/ the foxthings - you will see! One day, Destra find this foxthing and do such terrible things!" He threatens, wrapped up in torn bits of clothing. "DESTRA!" Kizhna gasps from the branch of the tree. "Does my hatchling have a problem of the mind? This is not honorable, no!" Heartbroken, the eagle drops a rope - even some of the most prepared travelers may find themselves, and their belongings, being scooped, screaming, from the earth. "Please do not harm him, Kizhna apologizes for Destra. He will be punished for his treatment of our guest."

The fox yelps as the rope bounces off of his head. Rascal then grins with feverish delight, standing up and reaching down to scoop the little baby bird in his paws, "I got someone in ~trouble~." He giggles, On arm holding onto his tunic the other tugs on the rope. "Up up and away Mrs. Eagle..." he thinks about adding a clisha line about if no one harms him he won't harm the eagle chick, but he is rather sure karma is already gearing up to bite him in the tail as it is. Besides, the eagle was if nothing else nice about trying to eat him. He sees no need to worry her beyond need...as strange as that seems even to Rascal.

True to her word, Kizhna hauls Rascal up, and deposits him, carefully on the tree branch before rushing forward to pluck her son from his grasp. "Give Destra to his mother!" With the chick safely back in his mother's talons, she turns to the fox. "Is the ground where you wish to go?"

The fox hardly tries to keep ahold of the chick as they are plucked from his paws. That is one battle he KNOWS he would lose. "Behold! Destra is unharmed! Physically at least. LIttle twerp has a couple of mental knots you probibly want to wring out of him before you turn him loose on the world." Boldly the fox stands up on the log, paws on his hips he takes a small bow, "And the ground is certainly where I want to go yes. If you could so kindly get me out of this tree I will consider our deal over and you can go back to your 'charming' family."

"This behavior is unacceptable and dishonorable, but this is nothing to the dishonor of this manner you speak with." Kizhna chastises, still clutching Destra in one claw. "Hold onto this rope." She tells Rascal shortly - and hopes that he is, because she is already flapping her wings and pulling the other end ever higher - and then descending to drop it at the forest floor. "May the stars guide the path home." She grumbles, and then is lost to the night sky - she must find another meal.

The fox must be dying in that hole. His plan can't actually be working, can it? "YE-AHHAHAHAHHAHAH!" He shouts as he swings like a maniac fuled by stress, adenoline, and hunger. He drops the final foot and lands on his feet, "Thank you for flying Air Eagle." He chuckles, turning to salute the bird mockingly. Before he leaves he pauses, as if considering something. With out turning around the fox says to the eagle, "If you truely don't want your chicks to go hungry, look for camp fire's around Redwall. THere will be a camp full of shrews. You would like them, they are charming and murderous. But plentiful and sleeping out in the open..." Escape eagle? Check. Spite the enemies camped out of Redwall wanting to kill him? Double Check. Preform possible good deed in the process? ....

And he wanted to become a teacher eh?

Shaking his head the fox wastes no time in fleeing the area before the eagle changes her mind, dashing into the woods cackling like a mad beast.