HatakeKyasarin

A mortified, disheveled Wilson P. Higgsbury burst through the berry bushes, in a clearing in the forest glen. His hair and clothes were sprinkled with twigs and leaves, and his fine suit was torn where his body had been scratched, but still, at least he was alive. As Wilson stood there, gasping for breath, he listened as the sound of the roaring Hounds faded out into a mixture of angry Tallbirds chirping by the rock fields, pecking away at the beasts’ furry hides. They probably found a defenseless egg more appetizing and easier to catch than human scientist armed with an axe. With a sigh of both relief and exhaustion, Wilson trudged to