Ark ran as fast as his paws would carry him along the branch. He neared the end and leapt, clearing a vast open space and landing a few branch levels lower of the adjacent tree. He dug his claws in deep into the tree branch and steadied himself. "Beat that, bush tail!" He playfully yelled back at squirrel standing on the branch he had jumped from.
"Easy!" Hufftail retorted. He backed up till his tail was pressed against the trunk like a spring. "Here, I, GO!" On go the squirrel pushed off of the trunk with his tail and launched into a full out sprint to the end of the branch. He threw his body off the limb in a spread eagle fashion, outstretched paws flailing against the rushing of air past his body. Then surprisingly gracefully, Hufftail landed on the same branch as Ark. He looked at Ark, lifted his nose into the air and snuffed, "Ha, easy as walking."
Ark laughed at this show of prowess, noting to himself at how ungracefully the squirrel had flown through the air in comparison to him. But not wanting to anger his elder, Ark replied, "I never doubted you."
"Hey!" a taunting voice called out, "Ark, are you STILL practicing your long jump?" Ark glowered, embarrassed by the fact. "Haha, I could beat you anyday, without practice!"
Recognizing the voice he called out, "Oh shut up Redair, the only reason you stay in the air so long is because you're so full of hot air!" Ark smiled at his clever pun.
"Fine, no-tail, right here, right now! Up here!"
Ark looked up to the top of the alder tree to see and bright red flash of fur plummeting down onto him, but at the last second, Redair caught a thin branch and swung acrobatically, landing mere whisker-widths away from Ark. "Ok blackie, here are the rules. I jump, and then you jump. If you don't make it, I win. But if you make it, then you jump. If I can't make the same jump you can then you win. But I doubt that will ever happen."
Ark stared menacingly into the squirrel's eyes. "You're on!"
Without further ado, Redair sprinted off the end of the branch and landed a decent, but easy jump. Ark followed suit, landing easily in front of Redair. Not slowing to see if the red furred squirrel was following, he dashed along the branch to the trunk, dug in his claws and began to climb up to a higher branch. Ready to up the ante, Ark ran, but didn't throw himself off the end of the branch like previous jumps. Instead he loped off the end, falling for what seemed for ever before he grabbed onto a thin branch and swung, just like Redair had done earlier, all except from a higher height. Redair gave a mocking laugh as he merely waked off the end and caught the same branch as Ark and landed much softer than Ark and continued to run along the branch. Following quickly, Ark watched as Redair dropped to the forest floor, and hopped onto a fallen log. Ark played along and followed the squirrel.
The log was propped up on another log so it at one end. Heading towards the high end, Redair suddenly dropped off the edge of the log. Ark began to laugh, but was silenced quickly as he noticed Redair sprawled against the bottom of the log, clinging on for all he was worth. The squirrel began to climb along the bottom of the log, until he reached the end, where he grabbed the edge, kicked off with his hind paws, and swung around until his hind paws were above his head, grasping onto splinters of wood. From this inverted position, Redair thrust himself outwards, flipping so he was upright, but facing backwards. He then rotated 180 degrees, continued to fly through the air, and then grasped the thick, soggy bark of a nearby tree. Ark stared in awe, it looked impossible, but Redair had just done it. So Ark did exactly as Redair had. He desperately clung to the bottom of the log, inched his way along, flipped himself up into the inverted position, and flung himself forward. The whole process was much easier than I looked, and Ark found that he had more than enough time to not only flip and spin once, but twice! He dug his claws into the cedar tree alongside Redair, casually smiled and began to hustle his way up the tree.
Redair fumed, and then begrudgingly followed his adversary up the tree.
Ark reached one of the lower branches within seconds. He then jumped up and swung up onto the branch above him. He took a quick second to survey his surroundings. Off to his left was a pine tree, directly ahead was an enormous oak, and to his right was a weeping willow. Perfect! Ark thought to himself.
He continued to climb, looking down occasionally to see if Redair was still following. He was, so Ark kept on climbing until he was within body-lengths of the top of the tree. There was no wind, so the narrow top of the tree was still. Ark began to throw his weight back and forth, making the pinnacle of the tree sway. It soon got the point where he was almost unable to hold on. Finally on the very last forward sway, Ark launched himself as far as he could away from the tree, dropping through the air, paws outspread. He fell, faster and faster, getting closer and closer to the willow. And the ground. Ark felt the willow branches and their fine leaves begin to brush against his paws; he clenched his paws, gripping the whippy branch for all he was worth. His descent slowed, and he no longer was slipping on the branch, but his forward momentum carried him far. The branch he held onto swung dangerously fast, heading directly towards the truck. Calmly Ark let go of the branch and dropped further, quickly snagging a second branch. He gradually slowed, hopping from vine like branch to vine like branch until he had reached the ground.
He triumphantly raised a clenched paw and looked expectantly up at Redair, who was now at the top of the tree. The red squirrel reminded Ark of a guide without a lodestone, anxious and unsure. Eventually, he saw Redair build up courage and begin to rock the treetop. Then, far too soon, Redair launched himself off the tree, barely clearing the first couple of branches. Ark immediately knew something was wrong, but was helpless to do anything. Instead he was forced to watch in horror, as Redair fell smashing into cedar boughs, flung like a rag doll from recoil between branches.
Seconds later, a red lump of fur fell at the base of the cedar tree. The form lay limp, as if it had been deflated. Ark rushed over to Redair's side, calling out as he approached, "Redair? Redair? Are you alright? Redair! Talk to me!"
The red squirrel lay silently, not moving. Then, like a balloon being filled with air, Redair took a deep hoarse breath. His eyelids flickered open, deep chestnut eyes slowly defogged, and Redair stared at Ark. Ark began to speak, wanting to say how sorry he was and what a mistake it was for him to have accepted the challenge, and how he shouldn't have let his pride be willing to put Redair's life in danger. But before he could open his mouth, Redair cracked a horrendous smile and asked with complete innocence, "Ark! Why did you push me off the branch?"
Ark was confused. "What?!" he exclaimed, "I didn't touch you!"
Redair smiled, "But will they believe you?" he chuckled, motioning with his eyes to the group of squirrels that was moving in their direction.
Ark stared for a moment in horror. He wracked his brain for any solution to fix this horrible situation. None came, and the situation only got worse. The squirrels noticed Ark kneeling over Redair's limp body and raced over. The first one tackled Ark and pinned him to the ground, threatening to smash his face in if he even tried to hurt Redair anymore. Two others fell at Redair's side checking for broken bones and other lacerations. A fourth squirrel began to ask questions about how it had all happened. "What happened?"
"Ark pushed me." Redair lied.
"I did not!" Ark defended, "You fell!" Ark realized the futility of that argument, seeing as squirrels never fall out of trees. He tried again, "You fell on purpose!"
"Why would I do that, cough, argh, my side!" the red furred squirrel screamed in pain as one of the medics prodded an extremely sore spot.
"You hate me! That's why! You want to get me in trouble!" Ark was near tears.
"Shut up mole!" The squirrel who had pinned him shouted, throwing in a punch to the snout for good measure.
Ark's eyes watered up, he looked at his sharpened digging claws. He didn't belong here. Why was he here then?
Five seasons earlier
"Buftor! Come look!" an excited squeal came from a nearby branch.
Buftor clambered over to the voice scolding as she went, "Trin, don't call me Buftor, I am your mother, not a little friend of yours. Now will you please keep the noise level down, there are sensible squirrels trying to sleep around here."
"But mama, there be a likkle mole down there."
"What? A mole, in these woods?" Buftor looked down to the forest floor to see a tiny black form huddled in a small patch of moss. "Well, a life is a life, squirrel or not." Buftor reasoned out loud. She slowly climbed down the tree and picked up the baby mole. He was quivering from the cold, his tiny paws nearly blue from the lack of circulation. Buftor rubbed him with her paws, trying to generate some heat. She soon realized that this mole would need to be taken to a home where somebeast could care for it until it recovered. Knowing that no squirrel in this community, other than her even liked Dibbun sized squirrels, let alone and baby mole, she tucked the mole into a fold in her robe and climbed up to her tree house and laid him by the fire.
Trin excitedly examined the tiny mole babe, tickling his cold paws, hoping for a reaction. Buftor looked sternly at Trin, motioning for her to leave the room. She sent Trin to fill a water bucket from the stream. Trin returned almost immediately, sloshing water on the floor.
Patiently, Buftor took the water and began to heat it, while cradling the mole babe, trying to warm him up, even a little bit. She added herbs and fruit to the water, and stirred intermediately. Eventually a thick medicinal smelling steam filled the tree house, and moistened the room, filling the air with a mind clearing fume.
The baby mole woke up from its cold induced sleep, stirred in Buftor's paws and fell into a deep content sleep.
"Mama," Trin asked, "What's we gonna call him?"
"Ark, honey, we will call him Ark."
Over the next few seasons, Ark grew up to be a strong independent mole, living among squirrels. He had struggled at first, learning how to climb, not only because of his natural born fear of heights, but also because of his blunt digging claws. He found a solution to both these problems by sharpening his claws to near razor blades. He could impale nearly anything on his claws.
His fear of heights dissipated almost immediately following this, because he could now climb, and be able to keep up with the young squirrels.
Before long, Ark became a squirrel in mole's clothing. He could run as fast, jump farther and higher, and climb better than most squirrels. His acrobatic ability was renowned, being able to flip and spin much quicker, because he had no need to compensate for a large bushy tail.
But because he was a mole, he was disliked. Even by only known family. Buftor quickly became distant to him, claiming she only raised him because he demanded to stay in her home.
Ark began to become farther and farther away from the tribe. But he was still connected, because no matter where he went in the forest, Redair and his gang would come and get him in trouble somehow, and he would be taken back to the village to be punished.
Back at the main hall of the squirrel tribe, the group of self-appointed elders laid their judgment upon Ark. "You have disgraced this tribe with your presence once again. Can you not leave our young squirrels alone, mister Ark?" A grey squirrel questioned rhetorically. "As for your punishment, you shall be forced to remain in this hall until the sun has set four times upon it. You will receive no food or water. That should help you to remember that trying to hurt one of our young ones will only make your life worse!"
Ark didn't care anymore. He just remained in his seat as the hall emptied out. The doors were firmly shut, preventing him from escaping.
Ark stood up tiredly, walked over to the closet in the corner of the room, and pulled out a blanket. He felt like the blanket belonged to him because he had used it so many times before when he was locked inside the hall. Curling up into a small black ball, he fell asleep on the wooden floor. A tiny mole babe curled up on a bed of moss.