*get their hands on G O L D [D9 PLOT]

The forest was alive in an unusual way that set Frith's fur on end as she poked her head out of the small hole in the ground, wriggling her way to the surface and taking a few tentative hops into the surrounding bracken. Wide black eyes darted nervously back to the warren's entrance, imagining the nest of week-old bundles of fluff that lay curled inside. Frith wasn't fond of the idea of leaving her helpless children alone in a dangerous world full of predators and natural disasters, but death by starvation and death by a fox left you dead either way. This simple logic was what sent her darting into the undergrowth in a blur of russet fur, intent on her quest for food.

She had chosen a good spot to make a home and start a family, she decided, close to both a water source and abundant amounts of sustenance that could feed much more than just her own relatively small family. When the babies were old enough to be weaned, there would be food enough to keep them all healthy and happy for quite some time. The thought calmed Frith's nervous state momentarily, and she contented herself to stop beneath a nearby bush and nibble on some leafy greens that grew close to the ground.

Something rustled. Cracked. Snapped. Frith's head darted upwards from her meal, ears quirking towards the source of the sound. Her nose twitched as well-honed olfactory senses picked up on the change in the scent of the light breeze that wove its way through the forest. There was something heavy there, something different, something wrong. In the moment it took to place the scent, a towering figure crossed into her field of vision, setting her heart racing. Human.

Frith's mother had met an untimely end at the hands of one of these creatures, an incident that she would never forget. Survival instincts snapped sharply in to place, electrifying the small body and spurring it out from its hiding place. Run. And she did, powerful legs sending her flying over the ground with a rush of speed only rivaled by the swiftness of the projectile that flew close enough to Frith's head that she could hear it whistle as it passed. The shaft struck a rock instead of its intended target, snapping with a loud crack that seemed to echo through the otherwise still air.

Startled and terrified, Frith darted away from the loud noise with a sharp turn and made for the protection and concealment of the deeper forest with all the strength she could muster. With the frantic beating of her heart and the tense actions of her muscles came disjointed racing of her mind, spitting cold facts and fragmented instructions. Human. Run. Hide. Protect the children.

[ooc - Hi, Alex! I'm South, and I'll be your... rabbit. Anyway, I've been instructed to tell you that Lykainion has fifteen arrows in her quiver, fourteen now that she's broken one. So... try again!]