Brilliant - the weasel attempts a leap but Hubert takes advantage of the momentum Mortimer has provided and thwacks the wily weasel in the face.
There was a create deal of exclaiming as he fell away flailing.
And Mortimer swept on to the shelter of the next bush. The Hunting Grounds have been successfully traversed!
Ahead now are the Silent Sycamores. These hollow, dead trees leans at odd angles, some branches touching the ground and some roots pulled from the earth. Even the lightest wood might send rotten wood crashing down in an explosion of splinters.
So you have some choices.
If you fly then you will have to do so above the sycamores, their intertwined branches are too thick to navigate. That puts you at much more risk of raptors.
That risk can be moderated by returning to terra firma and making your way gingerly through the forest of branches and roots.
You know you have made good time thanks to being able to fly thus far, so you do have time for the more cautious route if you wish to take it.
“To be honest I’d prefer to be under the ground than exposed above it, but I don’t see a good alternative if we’re to keep moving. If you think you can hop and fly between branches and keep an eye on the ground as well as the sky while I move below, I think we can make it through. Look for a clear space to land; we’d better get the harness folded up so it won’t get caught on branches – if I get into trouble on the ground and you think you can lift me out, I’ll just have to hang on to your feet!”
I think I’d cope – except I don’t know how well I’m going to smell other things while I’m in there… and will you be able to see me?! It makes me nervous that we’ll lose more than we gain. Perhaps I can sneak close enough to the singers to find out who and what they are without them noticing.
@Phil asked for a die roll:
Keeping low, using fallen branches and foliage for cover, Hubert darts from tree to tree, circling to stay down-wind, and pausing behind each trunk to listen and sniff out the situation.
Once he feels he is getting close, Hubert takes a few minutes to dig a small tunnel, just 2-3 times his body length, next to a pungently-flowering plant, in case he needs somewhere to dive for cover in a hurry. Small enough to dig quickly, and just long enough to give him a chance of defending the entrance.
With that done, he continues cautiously to try to identify the source of the singing, still sticking to cover…
Mortimer takes position in the low branches of a sycamore as Hubert darts from tree to thicket. The singing gets louder and seemingly closer.
Thinking this is close enough, Hubert prepares his hide and then ventures further forward.
He can hear that the singing is emanating from a wooden structure ahead. It looks like a shelter, but on a gargantuan scale. It’s roof is moss covered and broken in, and glass widows are timed with dust and layers of spider webs.
The singing seems to be coming from an open door, the door itself lying at an angle into the structure.
It may be possible for you and Mortimer to sneak past if you are quiet enough. Or you may want to investigate the singer. You would need to return to Mortimer to tell him what you know.
It’s hard to make out the words, if there are any, but the song seems pleasant enough, like a refrain you might sing absent - mindedly while working. There is no sign that the singer has noticed your approach.
Hubert hurries back the way he came, and tells Mortimer what he saw and heard, and where.
“The roof looks damaged. I think you could land on top and see what’s inside. Do you want to check it out? If we retrace my steps to the tunnel I dug nearby, I can wait for you there. Otherwise I think we can sneak past.”
Hubert goes back as far as his burrow with Mortimer, and then waits for him to return. While he’s waiting he digs a bit deeper (partly to make it safer, and partly just to keep busy).
Mortimer flaps off as Hubert heads off to his safe burrow.
Mortimer is less flying, more hopping from branch to branch. He approaches the structure, and can see ceiling struts through a rotten hole in the roof. He could perch up there to take a look, or fly in through the collapsed door, made of some rusting metal.
