Cimple

Sage growled, as she woke to they gray walls of her hibernation den.

She snuggled back into her feathery nest, hoping to fall back asleep, but her rumbling stomache wouldn't allow it.

Regretfuly leaving her perfect nest behind, Sage clawed her way out of the rocky cleft she had used for bibernation in search of food.

Shaking the dirt off of her golden pelt as soon as she touched the ground, she stepped a yellow paw forward, followed by a green and a blue paw.

Her pelt was changing colors.

Night black eyes searched the land, looking for the right path for their owner to take.

Padding forwards on silent pads, Sage followed her nose to a clump of mushrooms humans would have declaired poisonous.

Then she ate them. Nothing could poison Sage!

Finishing of the fungi, Sage pricked her ears to listen to an interesting sound. What humans would have called half a mile away, a dog pack roamed.

Knowing they would come this way soon, Sage flattened her too-big triangular ears to her cube shaped head, and bounded away.

Her long, spindly legs carried her rabbit-sized body impossible distances, until her like-flying leaps became real flying.

She gave a triumphant roar, as if to say I am Sage, a Cimple! No matter how small I seem, I'm invincible!

And you see, she was invincible. Well, almost.