“...anyway, so we’re stuck in these vines and and I whip up this big mother of a windstorm up on the surface and WHOOSH, down through the tunnel, and I still don’t know what Big W’s plan is but I’m going along with it because hey, it’s War Wolf, y’know? And then I feel something in the air and it’s all those mines she dropped along the way down like some really violent remake of Hansel and Gretel, and my wind’s picking them all up, and BOOM, and then BOOM again and those snakes go flying. So then I ow! Hey!”

Slipstream’s animated retelling of his adventures that night at the Woodward farm was cut short as a pair of fingers pinched his ear and dragged him away from his audience of several fellow agents.

“No more procrastination,” the stern but caring voice of Medic Mouse demanded, pulling the panther effortlessly down the corridor despite her petite physique. “Ranger told you to report to the infirmary first thing, not take a detour to play storyteller.”

“Come on, I hate the infirmary. I’m fine, just a few scratches and a lot of dirt.”

“My goodness, congratulations on completing medical school and thus being able to diagnose yourself. I had no idea you’ve been attending night classes. You truly are an impressive specimen, doctor.”

Slipstream had given up trying to fight and simply levitated himself, letting the mouse pull him like a balloon as he floated. He hesitated and arched an eyebrow. “Thanks..?”

“Nice try.” Medic Mouse yanked him through the infirmary doors and tossed him toward one of the sterile paper sheeted examination table.

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A small scene from a collaborative story effort I'm writing with  vivavulpes. Check out the rest of the chapter in >>> City of Thorns - Chapter 2: Bad Seed <<<

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Art by  nectar
Dr Bobbi Hayes/Medic Mouse by  mojorover
Jason Mills/Slipstream by  gamegod210