#fledercanons

Verse Five- During Movie.

New York City was a big place, but it didn’t take Bolt long to find the cat that the trio of pigeons had told him to look for.

Immediately after the feline finished saying, ‘yeah, I’m really scared now’, Bolt SLAMMED into her, pinning her against a bunch of garbage cans with his paws planted heavily on her chest, her back against the dirty cans.

“You should be!” he snapped, countering her last phrase. His muzzle was creased in a snarl, eyebrows furrowed in an angry warning.

“Where is she?” Bolt demanded, eyes widening only a tad. When the cat stuttered, he growled, “you know why I’m here! WHERE IS SHE?!”

Above the two animals’ heads, the trio of birds that had led Bolt to Yachi were laughing. “Aw, c’mon, Yachi! Jus’ tell the dog where she is! Make ‘im happy!” the middle pigeon teased.

@fledercanons

Rajah knew something was wrong before he had even opened his eyes. The smell in the air was... wrong. Foreign. Nothing of the spices and incenses he had grown so used to. And, more important, her scent was faint, almost inexistent as if the only thing that was left was whatever lingered in his furr.

His eyes opened and the tiger felt absolutely lost about where he was. It was almost like..... That was a memory too old for him, burried way too deep. No, he didn't like whatever that felt like.

Think, Rajah, think! How did you get here? His food did smell weird last night and he got really sleepy but... that was all he could remember.

No matter.

He needed to get back to her, to Jasmine. She was her only friend in the world, he needed to be by her side.

‎‏‏⸻‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎𝐅𝐎𝐑‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎; ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎@fledercanons. | tod + copper.

Sharp sunlight scattered across a seemingly endless expanse of open country,  the vast valleys and undulating hills becoming a golden tapestry sparingly bespeckled by stick-built homes and farms ;  the vague cloud of the forest and mountains looming in the distance.  Dawn light spun like silk across the treetops,  morning mist flowing toward the western end of the earth with the midnight dew sparkling as it still clung from the night before,  covering everything in glittering pearls.  Though despite the spectacular pageantry of nature,  there was one too restless to even properly notice it for all its beauty.

Shivering like the autumn grass as the wind blows through it,  a young doe stood back in despair,  her pale eyes yearning as she peered through a sheer pane of glass.  Her name was Dart,  and she stood upon a rustic wooden floor with an awkward,  staggered stance,  nervous hooves emitting clicking ticks in quick succession as they vibrated against the planks,  the lost fawn trembling pitifully.  Landing in unfamiliar settings after getting herself foolishly caught in a Hunter's snare,  Dart had been taken into the abode of Widow Tweed for rest and recouperation.  Tod,  a young red fox,  had offered to help her during her time of need,  though admittedly Dart felt regretful of her decision to accept his assistance.  Attempting to place one's desperate trust in Man after He has killed many without mercy is near futile,  if not impossible.  She recalled how easily the old Woman held her against her chest as she struggled,  squirming fearfully this way and that.  Everything about humans seemed to be wholly dreadful to the young deer,  for no comfort could be found for her in the burning of wood stoves or noisy old televisions. . .

Wearily,  she thought about the forest,  where even now her family and friends roamed with their freedom.  Maybe they were frolicking in the meadow,  perhaps they dearly searched for her,  or did they think she was dead. . . ?  So many questions raced through her anxious mind without a single answer in sight.  Even in the midst of her terror,  she could not help but begrudgingly admire the miracles Man could muster.  They could create water at will,  and they could make roaring fires with simply a matchstick.  It bewildered and fascinated Dart in a terrifying,  morbid way.  Tod had reassured her that Widow Tweed was not like most other Humans,  and while Dart was inclined to believe him,  the gnawing fear of doubt still ate ravenously at her belly.  The old Woman had washed her,  cleaned her,  and wrapped a thickly woven spider web around her foreleg to cover and compress the damaged limb.  Had it not been for Tod and Widow Tweed's intervention,  the foolishly fearful fawn could have wittled her flesh down to the bone.  Perhaps it was possible that not every Man was cruel,  and as the case may be,  the fawn understood gravely that if this Human had wanted her dead,  she would be.  Yet she was not dead.  Breath still coursed through her lungs,  and pain still throbbed through her skin.  How could Man be both merciful,  and yet so cruel. . . ?

After the cold of the morning had burned off through the warmth of the day,  Widow Tweed gave a cursory examination of Dart's bandages.  While the wound had not fully healed,  the fawn needed to keep the strength in her legs with physical movement and nourishment of outside plant life.  Sternly,  she gave Tod the task of keeping an eye out for the fawn as she slowly opened the door to her backyard.  Imploring the young fox with a waggling finger to act responsibly,  she allowed the two animals to exit the household and emerge back into the bright world outside for a short time.  Dart felt a rush of relief bursting through her as the cool air brushed across her skin,  carrying the comforting smells of nature along the breeze.  It was the first time in days that her tail and ears wiggled in such joy !

‎‏‏⸻‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎; ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎@autumnfrolic.

Unspecified Verse. (AU.)

Meadow didn’t like being cooped up- she never had, and she never would.

She’d ended up here after nearly drowning in the river back home… after also sneaking out of the den in the middle of the night to explore.

The kit was lonely, being the only fox in her enclosure. She was still young, after all, and she needed to have some fun, or she felt she’d wither away.

Meadow knew no humans were watching her right now, so she slipped over to the vent inside her confinement space, scraped on it for a while until it opened up, and grinned when it did. She crouched and tried to navigate her way through the dark tunnels, but luckily for her, as a fox, she had night vision!

She finally reached the end of the vent tunnels after what seemed like an eternity. She saw an unfamiliar animal out in the next enclosure, but, bold and unafraid as usual, Meadow whispered to him.

───── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ─────

"You must be, with behavior like that," Sarabi couldn't help but scoff. She cautiously made her way closer, inspecting the tiger with a few sniffs as she skirted him. "Naanda, come look at this." Hesitantly, the paler lioness came sauntering over, gawking. "Oh, Sarabi, it's a tiger! You know, as the ones Father told us about? Such gorgeous stripes..." "Yes... He must be," Sarabi hummed, her tail tip twitching. "Not from the likes of around here. Not with that smell. I am Sarabi, and this is my sister, Naanda." She introduced, keeping her stature tall and unafraid. She showed no weakness in the presence of perceived threat. "You say you are lost ... Where do you belong, then?" She questioned. ───── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ─────

Being surrended by so many strange cats did not make Rajah feel at ease and perhaps only his time at the palace, where he had learned to appear confident and ready despite not being confortable or being bored. That and having grown up with a girl that did try to pull his tail one too many times.

Verse Three- AU. Dallas only.

Dallas was lying on the lap of the woman who’d adopted him as she and her husband drove away from his former home.

He was nervous, but not too badly, because this couple that had chosen him were very kind and loving towards him.

The white pup smiled to himself, eyes closed, and snoozed.

Soon, he felt gentle hands on each side of his body, and he was lifting out of the car. Blinking in the dimming sunlight, Dallas was eventually placed on the floor of a new house; he looked around. It was nice in here, and he knew instantly that he was going to enjoy his life in this family.

Dallas was about to start trotting down the hallway to explore, but suddenly there was a scruffy brown pup coming towards him.

The cavern tunnel has opened up to a world of sound around you, unfamiliar to the natives of the Hidden World. The shivering and rustling of trees in the wind. The lush, wild birdsongs. A bright blue sky cast against the emerald canopy, both of which seemed to stretch on until forever.

This little island which the nightlights have found is far different from the Scandinavian archipelago their ancestors once called home. It's far warmer, and humid, and the sun is bright and perfect for basking. Not a single trace of frost or snow lingers within sight—instead, bright, tropical wildflowers and long blades of green grass.

A flock of birds takes from the trees nearby, startled by your appearance. As you try to navigate your way, you'll likely be overwhelmed by all scents and sounds.

Luckily, if you stick close, and creep through the woods, eventually you might find a scent that seems vaguely familiar . . . human? Will you follow it?

Peg may be a small dog, but she was feisty and fierce when she needed to be - Sadly, in this case, she had not been fierce enough. In fact, to the young humans that had tormented her to the point she snapped, it was quite laughable. She had been able to get in a few bites and scratches before being stuffed into a bag.