Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs

I do not own Ice Age

"The child must die... It is the only way to further your goal."

" But why? It's just a boy...Is there any other way?"

"No. He must die. And _ must be the one to do it. Only then can be gain their trust. He must do this at the exact moment though, one mess up and it's over."

"How do I know I can trust him?"

"I don't see there being any other choice... Unless you turn back now."

"If I do that then I fail everyone."

The being trudged through the snow. He didn't know where he was, and where he's been is fading as well. There's nothing for him now but memory. Even that is fading, or at least he thought it is, he can't remember now. It's a funny thing, memory. It cannot be destroyed nor forgotten, only transformed. The details of what was distorted through the sands of time. No two stories the same. That's probably for the best. The being was a man, specifically a weasel. He bore a bow, a sword made from a fossil he found, a half broken dagger and some arrows he crafted himself. The quiver was made from animal hide. He looked around, searching for the slightest movement. It's been like this for about 3 years now. Moving, stopping, the nightmares, waking up to go forage or hunt, whatever he felt like for that day, then it repeats all over again.

He looked up the trees, sizing them up. How small he is in comparison to the world, how insignificant but necessary. His green eyes shined in the light, burning them a bit, to which he instinctively drew up his hand to block. To the east he saw a cave, its a risky situation but he had to rest, he's been traveling all day. He probably had 2 hours of sunlight left, there wasn't any other choice.

Once inside he gazed at the walls, the cave pictures were drawn by humans, they depicted a great hunting trip in which four hunters are attempting to take down a mammoth. He never understood why they would just leave these here and never return...

Regardless he took off his gear and made a fire, he was near the forest so he only had to travel a minimal distance. He stared at the fire and reveled at its beauty. And as he watched... His thoughts drifted...

"Come on son! Let's see what you've got." He tossed a bone sword towards the boy and raised his own. "Come on then, come on." He chuckled and the boy came at him. Swinging his sword to the right and turning it in his hand so it was in the opposite direction, and brought it back around so it hit him in the shoulder. "Ha! A point for me Father! Looks like you're bit slow today."

The father swung his around and met the boys, they danced in what would be a deadly struggle for power. Difur have the boy a couple heavy swings. He stopped and began to block the boys swings, but the boy became cocky and tried to advance on his father, to which he parried, making the boy tumble. The father took his sons sword and forced it to betray him, pointing both at his throat.

"Look at this Dalhir. This is called death. And it will be what you encounter should you lose your focus. You're becoming worthy of being a Ranger, but you've much to learn."

He brought Dalhir to his feet, and have him back his sword. "The sword is a soldiers strongest weapon, in close quarters it allows you to kill many in a small amount of time. But it can turn on you as well, for it is only as good as the man who bears it."

The memory fades. He closes his eyes, trying to remember... There was another...

"Marwyn..."

A woman passed him and Dalhir by, Dalhir reached for a flower and plucked it. A yellow rose. He gave it to his father and nudged him. Winking, his father rubbed Dalhirs head and walked towards the female weasel. When he got close he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. "My lady fair returns with a bounty fit for a king" Commenting on her basket of fruit. She took the flower and responded "And what does a Ranger wish upon this 'Fair Lady'?" He kissed her lightly, "To look upon her is all I ask. No man could want more." They kissed again. "My dear Difur..."

All he had... Memories. It was night time now, and he decided to rest. Difur.. That is his name. Difur laid down. His back against the fire, the crackling lulling him to sleep. And he dreamed...

The soldiers grabbed their gear, the woman and children running for the mountains. The tribe was under attack by a pack of sabers, and everyone knew they were outnumbered. Yet there they stood, with the stoutest of hearts. Dalhir and Difur joined the ranks. The last line of defence was a line of armed weasels. The sabers ran towards them, above a severe thunderstorm ensued. "Stay strong Dalhir, tonight is your true test." They both looked at each other. For the first time Dalhir noticed a glint of fear in Difurs eyes. "Dad... Are you afraid of Death?" The sound of growling grew in intensity. Difur looked at his son, and told him the honest truth...

"No."

The sabers reached the soldiers. The breaking of bones and grinding of claws against swords can be heard amidst the chaos which has quickly taken over the tribe. It didn't take long before the line broke and some of the sabers reached the women and children.

Difur and Dalhir fought side by side against two sabers. One was bigger and more robust, and the other smaller but faster, I guess you could say there is a sort of change in properties between them in this battle. The bigger saber is obviously the leader. They stood there, sizing each other up when suddenly leader spoke...

"Diego, attack!"

The battle was bloody. Difur managed to bloody one of Diego's legs, but it didn't stop him from pinning him down. Dalhir however managed to get a few gashes into from the more robust saber, and leave one of his toes clawless before he was pinned. They didn't realize it but Marwyn was caught as well. The women and children's fate is unknown, although Difur has an idea.

All three were bound, and Difur watched as Diego unsheathed his claws and cut Dalhirs throat. Both he and Marwyn screamed out in despair. Diego then made his way to Marwyn, and cut her throat as well.

"What of this one, Soto?"

"Leave him... But first..."

Soto silently walked over to Difur. As Difur looked up he was met with a claw and a burning sensation on his face. He cried out in pain as they left.

Difur awoke drenched in sweat. He was sick of these dreams, they were constant reminders. He got up, grabbed his gear and left for the forest. But not before noticing a figure... Obviously on all fours. He investigated, but was cautious of doing so as he got closer he realized it was a saber. But more than that he realized that it looked strikingly similar...

The saber crouched down. Difur realized he was hunting, a dangerous time to stalk a saber. But he did so. That was when it hit him... Could it be?

"Diego.."