I am the Reaper and death is my shadow

Zabrina was running late. She'd been on a very important, self-ordered mission to catch a truly awful squirrel. It had developed the nasty habit of dropping things on her whenever she had the misfortune of accidentally walking underneath it. What it needed, she'd decided, was a spanking. Or a shaking if she couldn't work out the problems that would come with trying to spank a squirming, biting squirrel. Either way it was going to learn not to mess with her.

She carefully (and reluctantly) wormed her way out of the tree trunk she'd been hiding in and clamored to the ground in a spray of leaf litter. The squirrel survived yet another day unspanked. His days were numbered, however! She was going to get him and justice would be served.

From there it was just a hop, skip and slid into the meeting place. Zabrina composed herself just out of sight of those already gathered and sauntered into the meeting as though 1) she wasn't one of the shortest pups present and 2) like she hadn't just been on a silly squirrel spanking mission.