"Slogann! Where are you!?" Sly shouted loudly, only hearing the recoils of his voice through the trees. He nearly gave up hope. He searched and wandered around the forest for nearly a half an hour, the sun slitting around the hills and mountains. Until he heard a familiar whine. Ver faint and weak, but familiar. "Slogann?" Sly called, his throat clogging in joy, as he ran to the whine. Scurrying Chipunks ran from his path, gibbering a line of insults. He smacked away Bolamite's webs, broke down tree branches, until he saw the gruesome sight of the Slog.
His body was beaten to a pulp, scratches and deep gashes spewed out dried blood. Black blotches of bruises ran all down his ribs and legs. His left eye was only a giant puff, and that wasn't all the damage. Sly sprinted faster to Slogann, nearly feeling a tear come out of his eye, as he knelt down to the Slog, lifting his head carefully.
"Slogann? Speak to me..." Sly's words came out hoarsely. Slogann's only eye opened, staring weakly up to him.
"Sly..." he said raspily, lifting his head off of Sly's palm, but letting out a harsh cough. "Look at what they did to you! Why did I ever do this?" Sly mumbled tearfully. "Wha..." Slogann said in a near whisper. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll get you fixed up," he lifted the Slog off the forest floor, and closely to him. He gazed around aimlessly, wondering wher to go next. But he couldn't just admit the fact that he was totally lost.
"HELLO?! CAN SOMEONE HELP ME!?" Sly yelled, listening closely for anything to hopefully answer his cries.
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