He could lose her, if he wanted to. He knows this forest better by instinct than any other type of creature possibly could. He doesn't really want to lose her, though. Not forever. It's like he was underwater, standing there and facing her, and he desperately needed a moment to breathe.

So by the time she catches up with him, he's scurried up onto the lowest bough of one of the overhanging trees. He's still facing away from her. The vines that had been posturing threateningly before have coiled themselves around the tree where he sits, and his rose budded tail swings beneath him with lingering agitation.

He's got his knees hugged to his chest, his roots gripping the bark. He's shivering with his own quiet, shuddering breaths. He doesn't say anything. He feels like he's really messed things up.