The two goblins sat on the branch for what they could assume to be, give or take, a couple hours since they were forced up that very tree by a lone wolf. Tovo still held his stick to his forehead, barely moving an inch within the two hours. While his companion simply sat beside him, returning the wolf at fault's glare with a glare of his own and hoping to the ancestors that they would be found by a large enough hunting group to fend off this wolf. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he failed to notice that Tovo had stood up, eyes gleaming with inspiration. He had just realized that Tovo stood only when he saw him step off the branch.

"The stick has spoken!" Tovo announced, voice swelling with joy, just before his rear collided square on the wolf's head. As the dust settled, it revealed the disoriented but happy goblin laying atop the large unconscious form of the wolf. The sudden force itself was more than enough to knock the wolf out, but the accompanying weight of the goblin made sure that the wolf would not be waking up anytime soon.

"Ancestors above, Tovo! Are you touched in the head?! What were you even thinking?!" His companion yelled at him with both concern and anger.

Tovo kissed his prized stick before he raised it up, still grasped firmly in his hand, and spoke. "The lucky stick told me that the wolf was looking at you the most and it was the perfect opportunity for a sneak attack, so I did!" He lets out a victorious laugh as he pats the unconscious wolf below him before sheathing the stick. "Now get down from there! The chief is going to be so proud of us when we bring this back to the village!"

His companion, due to the absurdity of it all or mental exhaustion or a combination of both, chose not to push the topic and made his way down to help his possibly insane companion carry the wolf back to the village.