Despite our particularly advantageous pathway, one of the assistants slipped backward, landing terribly ungracefully upon what at first appeared to be a furry, moss pile. Unexpectedly, it let out a low grumble. It tossed Jenkins aside and darted outward; it’s escape trajectory obviously unplanned as it bumbled straight into the trunk of a smaller tree. Small as it may have been, it knocked that tree enough that we could hear the “plunk plunk” of falling nuts dropping against the roots.
I picked up the poor fellow, which had bumped itself into the tree enough times to have battered itself into a stupor. It’s purple fur meant it was easy to overlook, considering the obscene saturation of purple in all the plants in the area, however it gave itself away with it’s pink belly and a mouthful of teeth looking to burst from it’s lips. The front of it’s head was a bit over sized as well. It would seem likely this little creature was outfitted for bumping into it’s environment. After all, it’s eyes seem nearly completely covered by it’s fur! The little beast floundered in my hands, trying to get back to the ground.
The “Morbull” tottered away, flapping it’s tail in what I’d hope was a farewell gesture.”