[D9 Plot-Saskia] ~And the Blind Will See~

Armament could not remember much from the day before. She had remembered being out in the forest to salvage some nuts for the day's food, minding her own business as per usual. The fact that she was not the social squirrel made the foraging that much worse, but that did not stop the mammal from ever trying. Dang it! Squirrels like herself did need to live too, after all, despite not having offspring. Beyond that piece of information, however, there was nothing; it was like as though there was a blanket of blackness enveloping over her head, which was in a dull pain. Nothing but her survival feat yesterday was retained in her memory banks; and, at the same time, she did not care for the recollections. What mattered was that today was another day in the life of a little critter much like herself - and Armament needed to survive this day.

As soon as she had waken, Armament was walking around in a daze, bumping into unknown materials lying about. This was not her tree, not her siblings' home, and certainly not her parents' place, but that did not matter at the moment. All she knew was that she was hungry, and her stomach was law. So the squirrel had escaped from the hole and embraced the warmth that no one but the glorious sun could provide. Armament could have almost smiled, had she have been given the human capacity to do so. But no, she was a squirrel.

Something to be hunted.

Did she just hear that? A snap just now? Oh! Oh! This was not good! Not good at all! Oh me! Oh my! What a bother! Armament jumped and squeaked in utter terror. She wanted to run around in circles, not knowing who or what the noise originated from, and this was the absolute worst part: the unknown. The squirrel always heard the tales from her dear mother and father, about the 'hoo-mehns' that would roast your hide to wear as another skin, or turn you into a lovely liquid in some curved contraption.

In a desperate attempt of flight-or-flight, Armament had gotten to all fours and scurried away from the sound, crunching leaves under her paws and squealing, forgetting her ways of survival.

If there was one thing an animal such as himself should not be was a lazy git. Well, Castillo never thought of himself as 'lazy' as his rough-and-tough father put it, but, rather, as a chipmunk that would leap off of trees above poor creatures that held a couple varieties of his food, pilfer, and run away. Not only did the hassle of finding edible materials was cut in half or more, but it was easy. Hardly many expected it. Castillo was not that social of a fool; he preferred hanging in the tree and watching the days go by. That was his style. (And if he did not have such fortune luck for theft, that was why he always picked a tree close to food sources).

Castillo was laying out in his tree, watching like the terrible hawk. At the corner of his eye, he saw a squirrel running by in a hurry; but, to his dismay, she had nothing. Huff puff. She was not worth the trouble. The chipmunk stayed in the tree, amused of the girl fleeing for no odd reason as he stared at swaying leaves with stern eyes.