Trumpa scuttled up the tree and began to breathe heavily before looking down to see the beavers had left to run on, he was safe... for now. Writing a mental note that badgers dislike when you use there sticks to beat away flies Trumpa soon came to the realization of his new predicament, how to get down. he had never been this high in a tree, he took more to the ground, on the rare occasion he did get on a tree it was for food and there wasn't much left on this one. Taking a deep breath before jumping to the next tree branch another note was made when it snapped and he plummeted to the ground. As Trumpa got off his back he looked down at his waist, he wasn't that fat was he? He couldn't be seeing how little he managed to scavenge... bringing him to his reason to be out at such an early time. Suspecting that there was some sort of animal taking away much of what he ate, added with the witnessing of oddly colored animals, Trumpa had come to 2 conclusions: aliens or... the dread in his stomach returned: cats. Despite the fear Trumpa still walked towards were he had seen the creatures so often, his recklessness was undeniable and his bravery just as much. "fear me cat's? aliens I am trumpa hapa the wiiiiiiiiise badger show yourselves now or prepare to meet in fisticuffs"