WA-BAM! The Squirrel Strikes. Episode 1. [OPEN ... if you dare]

A lone squirrel balanced on the hard, woody substance, in a handstand, one finger holding him up cautiously. His beady eyes closed, fluffy tail slewed over his right shoulder, the squirrel rocketed into the air, legs flying over his head in a doulbe back-flip spin, manuevering in the air and coming to land in exactly the same spot. In less then a milisecond the squirrel, Wolfgang Amadeus is his name, kicked out, and for 10 fox-lengths creatures could hear the split of the air. He somersaults in a cartwheel motion, stubby arms flashing. All of this was done with his eyes squinted shut.

The cartographer, with a long stem of a flower wrapped around him like a sash, that kept a roll of torn bark from a tree held tightly to his back. He was scanning one of these bark scrolls intently he had scrawled a drawing with the tip of his finger and some raspberry juice. But he stopped when he saw a squirrel battling with some unforeseen opponent, and apparently winning. It was like some kind of miracle dance with his flailing limbs battering nothing. He wondered if he even knew that there was anyone there, his guess might have been proven true when he realized that he had his eyes closed. Careful to keep his work from getting wet, he stored it into his backpack, and looked up at the squirrel. "Excuse me, sir or madam?"

Wolfgang Amadeus looked down upon the tiny mouse, landing smoothly on the fallen tree, eyes opening slowly, like a cat's. Of course though, he was not startled. He was taught better than that. Leaping from the bark, front-flipping easily downwards. The vine securing the carefully sharpened scabbard, made from the white, stone-like material he had collected moons ago, was tightly looped, allowing for movement but not allowing it to slip off. With a curious glance at the mouse he was now looking down upon, he realized that he was indeed speaking squirrel. "It's Wolfgang Amadeus young one." He squeaked, putting out a clawed hand. His voice was easy, calm and welcoming. "And no need to speak in squirrel grasshopper, I speak mouse fluently." His voice, now in mouse, echoed softly in the forest.

"A bilingual? Interesting." said the young scholar mouse, admiring the squirrels acrobatic flips and tricks. Slowly, Akamaru stepped forward, afraid that suddenly the squirrel might attack him and bruise his paws. "So... That stuff you were just doing... What do they call it? I've never seen anything like it, and I've seen cat, fox, and even wolf fighting styles. But never squirrel." said Akamaru launching into one of his lectures yet again, he sometimes did it when confronted by a strange creature, usually they were ramblings but once or twice he would speak about something really interesting and intelligent.

Akamaru fidgeted with his paws nervously, he had never, ever, had the chance to meet a fighting squirrel, he had met a lot of war loving creatures of the woods, but a squirrel that liked to fight? That was a brand new one on him.

Wolfgang Amadeus tightened the knot on his scabbard, staring down at the mouse. He pondered the thought of what his 'moves' were called. The thing was ... they didn't have a name. It was really a mixture of multiple types. His bushy tail fluffed around his head, the tiny threads tickling Wolfgang's head lightly. Although a good balance-method at most times, it occasionally threw an un-experienced squirrel off balance, and it took time to master the way to use it for offense. Quite a contraption. "It is a mixture of many types. I was taught squirrel-fu by a great sensei, but this is my own variation on the different techniques." With a wild, round-house kick, the squirrel struck the tree beside him, feet moving at the speed of light. He stuck out his hand, a second later two acorns falling downwards into his outstretched palm. "Acorn?" A strange thing this mouse, sure, he'd ran into multiple mice in the past who spoke squirrel, but not in a very long while.

"I'm more of a hay seed man, myself. It's probably because I used to live on a farm... But, my mother I was told I was born for bigger things, what about you? Did your parents tell you anything about your future? Sometimes I think parents can tell the future. Or a better question would be, why you're out in a storm like this?" rambled the young mouse, still twiddling his paws. He shook his paw to signal that he didn't want an acorn. No matter how many squirrels he met, they always had the same fixation with their favorite kind of nut. Walnut, acorn, chestnut, beechnut and butternut, he actually kind of liked chestnut, but it wasn't his food usually. The mouse's eyes suddenly wandered to the scabbard the squirrel was carrying, he shouldered his pack of bark scrolls, with a smile. Waiting for him to ask about them. Akamaru looked at the squirrels busy tail, wondering how heavy it must be, since it drooped from the rainwater, and it's shaggy fur. The same could be said for cats, or him for one matter. He shook his fur, flinging droplets of water all around, this ninja like squirrel was one strange sight.

OOC: One thing to say...

WTF?

ooc: pwnsome squirrel pwns oak trees *nods*

Wolfgang shrugged at his question, what a talkative young mouse this thing was. "My life is here. I follow the cats. If they leave, as do I. Whisperings say they will, btu we do not know that for sure yet. As for my parents, I never knew them. They dropped me off at a Squirrel Institute at birth, by yes, my masters said I would be a great ninja, and I dare say I am." Although a slight breeze, for a small creature such as himself, the wind felt like a very strong gust and his bushy tail rustled behind him. He eyed the mouse; he almost seemed scared of the larger and more battle-capable rodent.