Chrrou doesn't take long to go about his business. His eyes find what he's looking for within moments, and  the mousefolk scurries toward the devastated treeline, finally kneeling down before the toppled log of a once-mighty tree. Stretching out one hand, he touches the dead wood [<span style="font-style: italic">Wood Shape</span>] and a series of cracks and snaps fills the air as the solid chunk of wood shifts and flows and remakes itself, elongating and drawing apart into a pair of sturdy columns bridged with thick slats. Within seconds, Chrrou kneels with a blocky and artless but very functional forty-foot ladder. {{Spell allows for twenty cubic feet of wood made into any continuous shape; volume-wise a one-foot ladder segment takes way less than a solid cubic foot of material, so it should be fine.}} He has what he came for, now, but it's after a few seconds' contemplation of and then a brief struggle with the massive and unwieldy tool that he sighs and turns back with a sheepish look rather than an accomplished one, calling out across the hundred-pace distance.<br/><br/>"...Could I have some help moving this?"