Kuromaru ignored his grumbling familiar and paced until he stood under Katsuko's tree, head tipped sideways. Now she smelled like stress as well as lingering traces of pain. His ear flicked up as she pulled as far away as she should get without actually taking flight. She didn't look good. In fact, she didn't smell good, either. Her scent was bordering on acid-sour strain, rather than unripe fruit. He used his very best soothing voice, the low grumble that calmed puppies.

"It's okay. Everyone has problems speaking sometimes." He eyed the tree, and the ninja within. "And probably there are some other shinobi who forget how to get out of trees, too. If you're stuck, we can probably get you down." After all, she'd fallen out of the last one.

Tsume plopped down on the ground, buried her head in her hands, and tried not to sound too hysterical when she laughed. She ignored the worried look Kuromaru shot her.

"Women," he muttered under his breath.