{{shaken is the lowest level of fear; it doesn't restrict your actions, you just take a -2 penalty on rolls}}<br/><br/>Despite his rage-boosted strength, the wolverinefolk's efforts to push the dragonfolk away are in vain. Strands of saliva run down his fear-stricken face, matting his fur against his head and stinging his eyes. Hot, acrid air blows in his face with Geno's every exited breath. Enough of the light from the burning barricade leaks in through the gaps of Geno's teeth to illuminate the mouth...but deeper, at the back of the mouth, there is only darkness.<br/><br/>{{I'm renaming the "put-in-mouth" action to "ingest", because it doesn't necisarily involve putting anything in the mouth, especially for same-size vore. It's possible, as is happening right now, for the prey to already in the mouth when the "ingest" attempt is made, in which case a successful "ingest" means to take them in about halfway, and a successful "swallow" is when you can close your mouth on their feet}}<br/><br/>[wolverinefolk ingest resist: 1d20(4)+12+2(rage)=18; DC=37; fail]<br/><br/>To his horror, the glistening tongue begins undulating under his chin, pushing him a little deeper into the pharynx with each contraction. He now sees pitch blackness. The ridges of Geno's pallate scrape against his head, and he feels the prick of teeth sliding down his chest and back. In addition to the dragonfolk's steady pulse and the thick, smearing noise of fur against throat-flesh, he hears a loud grumbling noise percolate up from his destination. This sound causes him to lose what little composure he had left, and he starts thrashing, kicking and clawing like a lunatic.<br/><br/>[wolverinefolk claw: 1d20(15)+12+2(rage)-4(grapple)=25; AC=25; hit; 5 damage]<br/>[wolverinefolk escape attempt: 1d20(14)+7+2(rage)=23; moves back out of mouth unless Geno opposes with DC 23 grapple]<br/><br/>A number of other, lesser predator intruders have entered Rodenttown as the skirmish with the wolftaur, wolverinefolk and efreet have been happening. But without the help of their leaders, the disorganized mob is unable to penetrate the crossbow barrages and polearm hedges of the guardsmice. Many of them decide it isn't worth it, and retreat back into the shadows.<br/><br/>Pip, having climbed onto a low roof and scored a few hits with his crossbow, finds himself unoccupied for a moment. He looks over at the wolftaur, and can't help but cheer as the bunnygirl lands a blow. He flinches and ducks as flames leap from the efreet's hand and strike a building near him. Then he looks directly below his position and sees a sight that stops him cold: Geno, with a pair of stocky legs sticking out of his mouth. He can't peel his eyes away; inch by inch, the wolverine was disapearing. The young mouse shivers with awe.