"So tiny bird, take flight."

Leo felt petrified, his already pale skin turning a bone white. With his back literally against the wall, he had no where to run, no tiny little hole in the wall where big paws can't reach. Maybe it was times like these that the heart rate increases, and the breath quickens, but for Leo, it was a feeling akin to death. There wasn't any screaming though, nor any blood. Just a couch and a boy, and possibly a witch.

A tight throat, as well all know, makes breathing quite difficult. Leo's throat was just a thick chunk of flesh. He couldn't fathom the thought of air- not that he was even trying anymore. All he could do was stare at that couch, torn ripped and dusty blue fabric, a little burnt in some areas. So when a wide eyed man that had to be at least two or three years older than him, peered out from behind the witch's hiding place, Leo of course, vomited.

With what he thought was his guts spilling out, Leo only gagged more. The unholy flavours burnt and fizzed in his mouth, truely a distasteful experience. When Leo recovered enough, he tilted his head to glare back at the stunned guy. He hadn't moved much from his spot behind the now hated and definitely going to be thrown out couch.

Finally, the random intruder found his voice. "O-Oh, oh my god, are you okay kid?! I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you- I mean I knocked over your stuff, I-I honestly didn't see it- I swear! But I saw you, so I kinda just hid, I mean you know, strange scary house in the woods and ghosts and oh.. sorry. It's a bad habit...."

Leo scoffed, and made a desperate grab for his bag. Hopefully, he'd still have some tissues. This guy, whoever he was, was an idiot. If Leo had somehow understood his ramble, Scruffy Beard had wondered in, knocked over Leo's drink bottle he had left by the door, seen Leo, and thinking he was a ghost, hid- probably knocking over the chair on his way.

"I'm fine," Leo's voice was uncomfortably weak and raspy, "But what are you doing in here?" The vomit would have to cleaned, and if there was one activity Leo hated, it was just that- cleaning.

"None of your- exploring! I'm ah- looking around. I moved here just a week ago, and heard that the woods are real pretty, which I must say, they really are. Well worth the time. Hey are you sure that you're okay kid? That was quite some reaction." Scruffy Beard was a fox, and a rather bad one to. He obviously had some reason for being here, maybe this place was used for dealing drugs.

"I'm fine," Leo repeated as he gargled water in an attempt to clean his mouth out, it didn't really work, "You just surprised me, I thought you were someone else..."

"What the fu- I'm so sorry kiddo, hope you can forgive me." Scruffy was fittingly enough- a ginger. Tall, without a soul (as all red heads are), and skinny. His clothes were casual much like Leo's, painted in dull and boring colours not worth mentioning. His face appeared naturally spooked, like a cat constantly showered in water. The guy was practically one loud speaker giving off creepy vibes. Leo, unsurprisingly, didn't fancy him.

"I'm only a year or so younger than you," the mouse narrowed its eyes to slits as sharp as knives, the fox's act did not deserve an encore, "And I'm not feeling so well, so I'm going to leave now." Leo was starting to get unnerved, this guy was behaving really weird, really really weird.

Scruffy's demeanour changed when Leo mentioned leaving. "W-what? No, no you can't leave!" Leo still felt sick, like his stomach was just another waiting volcano in life. There was no way he could fight someone probably twice his size in such a state, not when his body had other ideas.

"Why not?" The mouse was now quiet in the face of the fox, acutely ware of the dagger like fangs, dripping from the mouth of the savage. Scruffy smiled as naturally as the sun shines in the night. It sure wasn't pretty.

"I-I've gotta take you home, yeah? You're sick little bud, sick to the stomach- haha, literally! It's m-my fault, so I've gotta pay you back!" When you have long legs such as red head here, your ability to intimidate is huge- Basically, Scruffy was a monster on stilts. Leo shrunk back against the wall, very aware that denying the request could end unpleasantly.

"Okay, that would be nice. Thank you." As if he were walking on a tightrope of risk, Leo stood very slowly. The on edge fox would be sure to pounce if the mouse made one wrong step, tiny creatures mustn't make a sound in the presence of predators.

Scruffy's oh so sweet smile only widened, "Wonderful, fantastic! Show me the way, kiddo." Leo really wasn't digging the nickname, but he kept his mouth shut.
---

The fresh air greeted the welcoming scent of anything that wasn't vomit, and Leo relished it. On the way out, Scruffy Beard had given Leo his name; Daniel, though Leo favoured in calling him his nickname over his real one. It suited the soon to be ditched guy better.

"So, what's your name ki-kiddo?" The sun had well and truely set, the sour kiss of night cursing every tree, brush and branch to look like sharp blades, jutting out from the earth in a twisted manner. The mouse had spent too long in its hole.

"Spaniel," Leo's face remained devoid, "Like the dog breed. My parents really like dogs."

"N-never heard such a stu- Great name before!" Daniel- Scruffy Beard, was following the mouse's every move like eye candy. He literally, would not look away. Throwing a rock as a distraction suddenly did not seem like such a good idea, damn the movies for making it look so simple.

With such a watchful eye, was escape even an opinion? The fox, with its long stilts, could not be easily out ran. And with midnight's blanket to cover his crimes, Daniel could very well (temporarily) get away with murder. To call for help would be foolish, no one was around, except for maybe other foxes. Fight? Leo would have rather have taken his chances jumping off a bridge. So perhaps-

a magic spell was needed.