After a minute acrobatic feat, the creature turned, a contorted face of something Zantair's brain could only manage to describe as the face of violence. He instinctively took a step back, not even registering the act until a moment after the step was placed. The creature had made some sort of comment, and Zantair couldn't really understand what the giant gerbil bat was saying.
"Whatever are you--" the creature had continued without pause and had promptly interrupted him with her own speech, exclaiming no knowledge of the cards. More importantly the Zith had made it well known that she would not give the cards up, and as a icing on top, made a point to tell him to go away. Zantair began to feel frustrated, he felt obliged to try and get the cards for his boss, but at the same time, the creature seemed to have no qualms with ripping him to pieces should he make a move. The darn thing had claws. Why claws? everything that has claws tend to be violent, and they also like squirrel meat. He decided to slide back behind the tree, maybe the tree would provide a useful defense against the human sized flying furball. Perhaps from here he could speak.
"That thing you just had is a card." Zantair said, rather matter-of-factly, "You use it to tell fortunes, if you would be as kind as to not rip my head off, or whatever you... what exactly ARE you? A bat? or a flying gerbil?" he asked, honestly unsure of what it was, though, the question could probably have been asked a little differently. "look, if you show me the thing from far away I could tell you which one it is.."
He was hoping the diplomatic approach might work, and at least from a distance he could probably escape if harm were to come to him. in any case, this would probably grate on his mind for a while, and he hoped he would be able to find away out of the mess he had just got himself into, and better yet, maybe he could get away with the cards as well.