Squirrel Oc Novels & Stories

I shrieked and stumbled backward— And a squirrel jumped out. A small, brown, fluffy squirrel. It twitched its nose at me. I screamed like it was a demon crawling out of hell. “Are you possessed?!” I shouted at the creature as if it understood English. “Why would you jump at me like that?!” It chattered. Or maybe it cursed me back. I didn’t wait to find out. I turned around and ran. Not jogged. Not walked fast. Ran like something from the underworld was behind me.

As the animal sat on its haunches, Lucas noticed its belly, where the fur seemed to be missing, or strangely tufted around… “Oh, no. No, I looked it up. Squirrels have babies in early spring. This is late spring. Not baby time. I thought you were a dude!” The squirrel didn’t seem impressed by Lucas’s arguments, so he decided to try a simpler approach. “No babies in the room, squirrel. That’s house rules.”

As they navigated the dense foliage, they encountered a playful squirrel with a penchant for mischief. The squirrel, with its fluffy tail and mischievous eyes, fearlessly danced around the boys, engaging them with its agile antics. Kurt, driven by curiosity, attempted to pet the furry creature, only to be met with a surprise. In a sudden burst of energy, the squirrel leaped onto Kurt's shoulder, then scurried down his back, vanishing into his pants! Seth and Tricc erupted in laughter as Kurt contorted and wriggled, attempting to dislodge the cheeky squirrel from its unexpected hiding spot.

The squirrel watched it but didn’t move. “Can you look in the creature’s mind?” he asked Claire. She pulled a couple of faces that were no improvement. “It’s thinking about the apple.” Arthur nodded. He stepped forward and the squirrel ducked out of sight. He picked up the apple and put it back in his pocket. “Now. You think about the apple.” Claire frowned like she didn’t like to be told what to do (so, no change of expression) and concentrated. Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder. “Put the apple in its head.”

When we return to being human, then my mind will dominate our body. Back to the previous problem. Did I say I hate squirrels? Well, my wolf really likes those little squirrels. In fact, squirrels are his favorite animal. Somehow the harder the animal is to catch, my wolf likes it more. Dusk is the best time to hunt, after the last rays of the sun have disappeared and a few minutes before the moon appears in the sky. Wait a minute ... What's this smell? I lifted my snout in the air and sniffed around me. Smoke? Oil ... human blood ... and gasoline? And ... something.

Its fur catches the sunlight in a way that makes me see individual hairs, the way they layer and overlap. It's watching me with black eyes. Its small round ears swivel independently, and I wonder what it hears, what the world sounds like at that pitch, whether the grass growing makes a sound, whether my heartbeat is loud to those sensitive ears. "Hi," I whisper. I extend my hand slowly. My palm up, offering nothing because I have nothing to offer—no food, no nuts, no seeds, just an empty hand. The squirrel takes a step closer. I can see the details of its face—the tiny nose black and twitching, the whiskers long and white, sensing the air, reading the world through vibration and scent, the s

The squirrel sat by the bush, oblivious to the two pairs of amber eyes trained on it. The forest was mostly silent, none of its inhabitants wanting to make too much noise, just so they wouldn’t startle their target. Caleb’s wolf prowled in the thick of the shrubs, waiting for the right moment to pounce on the tiny animal. Squirrels could be fast, they had the gift of moving past one’s reach just when you thought you had them, so, the utmost care had to be exercised, to avoid losing them. he took a tentative step forward, and lowered himself a little, angling himself in a position to leap. Once certain that the squirrel was within reach, and wouldn’t be able to scramble away, Caleb leaped.

His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and with each breath, I found a fragment of peace. As Sebastian held me close, he continued to speak, his voice a soft murmur against the canvas of my anxiety. "You know," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "I once read that squirrels have a habit of forgetting where they bury their acorns. Can you imagine being a squirrel with a terrible memory? It must be quite the challenge!"

Millie said, “My two octopuses have departed. What about yours?” “Mine dropped off when the squealing started. Good grief, do you think they are afraid of the creature that is making the squealing sound? If so, that must be one freaky creature. Whatever it is, judging from its squealing, I think it’s coming closer to us in the passageway.”

"I wish you could, too." Poppy gasped at a flash of movement she saw out of the corner of her eye. A small golden-brown animal scampered to the top of a boulder not ten feet from them. Perched on the rock, it balanced against a short furry tail as it stood in its hind legs and munched on a tiny pinecone. "What is it?" Poppy whispered. "It's a northern Idaho ground squirrel. They run all over this mountain. Believe it or not, they're endangered." Hunter smiled affectionately at the diminutive rodent.