For a moment, nothing suspended him but air, and then he hit the branches.

The deafening screech was thankfully muffled by the dense leaves he passed through on his descent. A branch cracked against his back, the numb precursor to pain making itself known, before Leon was free of the branches, and in the air once more.

He felt for a gut wrenching moment the sickening feeling of falling, before he hit the water.

Every point of contact stung, and he realised after a moment the breath that he’d been holding since he started falling.

Lungs burning, he clawed upwards, and with a gasp, his head broke free of the water.

He floated there for a while, in the water, staring up at the form of the bird staring balefully down from above, before he was suddenly aware of the feeling of emptiness below his legs.

He wasn’t really afraid of water, per se, but he was definitely afraid of what might be in it.

He swam hard to the edge of the lake, making sure not to make too frantic movements. If it worked for sharks, it might work here as well.

Hopefully.

He dragged himself up the shore, flat against the thin stony beach that ran around the shoreline. Taking a moment to just... breath.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then pulled himself up.

Turning away from the water, he opened them once more.

Verdant vibrancy spread out before him like a painting. He heard the sounds of birdsong, and insect call. The branches swayed in the breezeless air, and it struck home to a simple concept in his mind. So full of-

There, to his left, a snapping branch. A bush rustled out of sync to the trees. His eyes locked on to it, adrenaline slowly pumping up from where it had begun to settle in his core. He dove behind a small incline of rock, flattening himself to the floor. He peeked above, features obscured by a thin section of shrubbery, just as the bush exploded into motion.

A nearly indistinguishable blur hit a point in the earth, wind trailing in its wake.

The shape stopped for a moment, before straightening up into full vision.

A brown mouse, eyes like shiny black marbles, sat up, holding the twitching form of a rather sizable dragonfly within its mouth.

Leon stared in shock for a moment, as the pet shop mascot nominee crunched through the bug’s carapace, hands held close to its face like a squirrel as it shoved the entire thing down its throat bit by bit.

When it was done, it sat there for a moment, cleaning itself, before heading towards the water.

Leon moved slowly. He wasn’t overly cautious of the tiny thing, though a small spark within his brain worried more about the chance that it could spit lightning or something equally ridiculous considering the already confusing nature of its surroundings, before he misplaced a foot and sent a rock skittering along the beach.

The mouse blurred, disappeared from its drinking spot before appearing a short distance away on a tall boulder. It stared around, beady eyes wide. It looked afraid, which gave Leon a little more confidence as he stood up and began to walk towards the forest. He needed to see if there was any shelter nearby, or hopefully just a place to hang out away from the giant bird.

He glanced backwards at the rock, half-expecting to see the little guy gone, and that gave him just enough time to spot the furry blur cannoning directly for his face.

He clumsily raised his hands up, but it was far too slow, and the mouse was already taking swipes at his face. His hands came up just in time to block its frenzied descent towards his throat, and he yelled in pain as it bit into his arm.

His yell was cut short by a crack that he felt through his arm, and a numbing pain that he faintly recognised from when he had fallen off his bike as a child, years before.

The fucker had fractured his arm.

He swung his arm out blindly, and the death mouse flew back, taking a decent chunk of flesh.

It twisted in the air, landing on its feet facing towards him, and it hissed, its hair puffing up in a way that would have been cute if it hadn’t been for the blood marring its face.

A wave of pressure struck him, and he steadied himself with his left arm as his knees buckled. He scrambled to his feet as the mouse threatened him from where it stood. A completely inane thought passed fuzzily through his mind as blood gushed down from his limp forearm. This was most definitely a territorial display.

He didn’t spare another thought towards the fuzzy deathball in front of him, as his mind made the final selection between fight and flight, and his adrenaline fueled legs carried him away from the lake and into the forest.