His attention had been solely focused on the groon barreling toward him -- so when another voice yelled, Alphonse looked over in shock and alarm just as Din smashed into him, tackling him down into a ditch. They slammed and rolled among the rocks and bramble and stopped against a tree with a short [i]urk![/i] from Alphonse.

He looked up blearily in time to see the groon skid to a halt at the edge of the lake, swing its head back and forth with a huffing whiff of its nostrils, then lumber off in the opposite direction, crashing trees in its wake.

The siren in the treetops wound down and died pitifully: oooEEEEeee. . . ooo . . . u u u u

Alphonse shoved his assailant off him and clambered to his feet, using the tree for balance. "I [i]had[/i] him!" he griped aloud. What's more, the glass bottle was smashed on a rock a few feet away, oozing blue liquid into the grass. Perfect.