Afternoon soon became night, well, it's not quite 1:00 AM yet. It's 10:44 PM. People say the forest is rather active and crazy at night, when teenagers went camping to make some memories or freak each other out just for kicks. Rocky's lion-eyes came in handy just for him to navigate the nighttime-serene area. Bob, on the other hand, is just itching to be on the groundfloor but the thought there could be snakes prevented him from doing it.

   "Could you hurry up any faster, kid-o?" Bob asks, looking wary  around the almost peaceful forest as he clung to Rocky's developing mane.

     Rocky grunts.

    "I can't when my stomach is growling."  Rocky said, taking a stop in his path. His nose sniffs for prey that could be around for himself to eat. His  internal instinct as a lion crept up to him, not like a cheetah, just naturally coming on him.

      Bob's rat eyes become small.     

    "I'll get on this tree...while you hunt." Bob leaps from the mane then onto a tree branch. There's some insects using this tree branch as some protection from prey. Bob's rat eyes return to their normal size. Bob's eyes glint at the juicy-tasty looking insects.

        Those insects did not stand a chance.

       Rocky follows a scent his nose picked up.  He does this silently. Rocky is going to kill a squirrel.

     Our scene focuses to a group of forest animals and Bob sitting on a big boulder on his back legs.

    "You hear that lion eating that squrrel?"

    They nod.

   "We need to help him get back home."

"Why?'

  "Because there's a over-jealous grandson out there who wants Rocky dead!"