You create a trap to snag the young Kronsit. And you wait. It’s been set up in the path that the Kronsit usually take. Because you’re aiming for a younger Kronsit, you design the trap so that larger Kronsit can’t be caught.
Your skills at trapping amaze you when you actually catch a Kronsit.
When you approach the Kronsit to place a rope around it to guide it back to your camp, the Kronsit lets out a screech. It’s very high-pitched, almost to high to hear. You place the rope on the Kronsit’s neck and start pulling it back to camp as it struggles against you, screeching the entire time.
You’re so focused on the young Kronsit, that you don’t notice the larger Kronsit charging at you. It raises a paw and slaps you to the ground.
The sound of crunching is sickeningly loud as you hit the ground. You try to stand and run or defend yourself, but you find that your legs won’t cooperate. The odd angle at which they’re splayed on the ground is clear that they’ve been broken. Badly.
The Kronsits trot back to the forest and leave you laying on the ground. Soon, night falls. You try crawling to your ship, but the pain is excruciating. As you lay there in pain, you hear a scuttling sound nearby. You turn to see what looks like a cross between a garden mouse and a hippo, only it’s no taller than large dog. It’s almost cute, until it bares its teeth. You then realize there are at least ten surrounding you.
Your last thought is that you should not have taken advantage of another creature’s trust.