Hello! Please enjoy part one of this three-part fanfic! And stay tuned this week for the exciting part two of three!

Enjoy the show!

Terrible Names

Part I

Daraga did not waste time snagging the tail of his slow brother and dragging him into the bushes on first sound of the beast approaching. The squirming stoat opened his mouth to yell out, but Daraga stuffed it full of a pawful of leaves before the scream could escape.

"Shut..! Up..!" The stoat forced his brother's snout shut around the wad of forest debris and glared daggers. Rising slowly from the crouch he had fallen into, the creature's paw strayed to the weapon sling across his back. Gripping the scored wooden handle, Daraga crept forward, silently praying the idiot sniveling behind him would find the sense to stay still.

His attention did not linger on his hapless relative for long. Up ahead, where the shrubbery thinned out, a wagon's canvas-covered canopy could be seen poking up into the sunlit areas of the path, a light blue in color and spangled with yellow cloth stars. Daraga's eyes narrowed as he bellied down and wriggled forward until he was as far as he dared out of the thick Mossflower jungle. He could make out the shape of the traveling wagon around the next bend, and around it several creatures paced. What sort of beasts he could not tell, though it was a fair guess that their species were mixed. One tall lanky figure stooped at one of the wheels and quickly rose again, shaking his head. The stoat bared a fang-wheel troubles. It made sense. The hot dry season could make the beaten path as hard as granite, and one careless misdirection into a rut could spell doom for a weakened spoke. The stoat rose with the noise of a fish breathing and skirted around the edge of the bushes, scuttling in the shadows of the trees just to the east side of the path. His dark mottled fur and patterned brown kilt made this a simple matter.

As he came closer to the sight of the wagon accident, the stoat could hear the voices of some of the louder creatures in the stranded party:

"Well, I'm not the one that said 'left', you said that and now look at that wheel!" Daraga was sure the speaker was one of the taller beasts, and a female by the sound of it.

"I nevah! You sure 'tweren't him that said left, m'gel?" Clearly the target of her rage was a hare, and one of the flatland race at that.

"It was you, finkface," the female said, her tone about as blunt as the cudgel she had slung over her shoulders. "Don't bring Toolum into this. It's yore fault and you know it!"

The hare snuffled and shook in the paws and whiskers. He began to stalk off in bad temper but paused just long enough to give the damaged wheel a sharp kick. A small bit of wood snapped off one of the bent spokes and stuck fast in the beast's hide just above his ankle. With a howl, the hare limped and cursed away, putting looks of mixed merriment and startlement on the faces of the rest of the party.

"Young fool. Coulda broke the spoke even worse, behavin' like that." The female unslung the cudgel from her back and placed a paw on the rim of the wheel. Daraga leaned forward curiously. This female was obviously in charge, and on closer inspection he was sure she was a badger of some kind. A small badger, or perhaps not fully grown, but a badger nonetheless.

"Let 'im go cool off'n, Mizzus. Bowflogg can't help bein' 'ot-tempered. He's got that, er... family line goin', ho urr..."

"Thank you, Toolam, but I know full well how to deal with a disobedient leveret." The badger stood and gave the wheel a final pat, handing the cudgel off to a young otter, "When he comes back from fumin' I'll take care of his foolishness once and for all. He'll never disobey me again..!"

"Hoo..." The mole wiped sweat from his brow, and the eavesdropping stoat was unsure if it was from the hot sun's rays or the glowering flame of the badger's rage so nearby. Cringing, the stoat ducked back into the foliage, intent to slink back to his brother and get clear of the suspicious strangers.

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaagh!"

Daraga fell on all fours and froze, his ears back, eyes squinted, and his fangs tightly clenched. His brother's screech of panic. Before him the party of wayward goodbeasts dropped what they were doing and all turned in the direction of the shouting.

"What in Hellgates..." the badgermaid began. The mole scrambled to retrieve a small woodworking hammer and held it close to him.

"Wh-what be that..?!"

"Toolam, get the old ones and babes inside the wagon." The badger ordered with a sweeping paw, snatching her club weapon from the webs of the young otter in the same motion, "Those who have weapons come with me. Nayda, grab the crossbow. Any vermin pokes their ugly head outta those woods, you shoot it."

Daraga lowered himself further into the deep leaf drift he had dropped into, hoping his camouflaged pelt and garb would keep him from view of the squirrel mother that was now guarding the wagon's seat with the deadly implement. The badger lowered her bulk as well, but her to surge off in a breakneck run straight for the source of the scream. Two otters and several mice armed with slings and staves bounded off after her.

"Satan's whiskers, brother..." Daraga shimmied backwards, using shade and light patterns to keep his form broken up to any prying eyes. Once he was fairly confident that the squirrel would not be able to spot him in the forest cover he half-stood and peered about. The squirrel was keeping her gaze centered on the disappearing figure of her badger leader and was paying the woodland edge no mind. Daraga ignored her-she was no threat after all.

He instead put his full speed to work, slipping between tree trunks and over logs as if it were second nature. Even with his skill at navigating the dense jungle, he was surely no match for an enraged badger in open country, but he was not going to slack. Idiot his brother may be, but disposable he was not.

Panting with exhaustion the stoat burst into the glade where he had last left his sibling cowering in the dirt. Stopping in shock for a moment he was fixated on the scuff-marks churning up the dirt-a sure sign of a struggle. He scanned the ground and to his relief found more signs, signs that his brother had managed to get away from his pursuers.

At least, for now. There was no telling what would happen to him once the badger caught up. Daraga wondered how his fellow stoat was even discovered in the first place.

"That stupid hare-of course..!" The stoat slapped his palm to his face before carrying on the track of the frightened vermin and the heated pursuers...

To Be Continued...