The small ferret stole through the night. He had unusual markings for a ferret. Pure white with red eyes. He had remembered his mother telling him of her wish before she died. The story was like this:

Zireth, the small ferret's mother, had lived in a cold part of Mossflower, where it snowed often. She worked, pulling out dead roses in her garden. When she pricked her finger on a thorn and a drop of blood fell on the snow, she silently wished to herself that she would have a child that was red as blood, yet white as snow.
After a few years, Zireth had a child. Eyes red as blood, fur white as snow. She was overjoyed at this. They had lived many happy years after that. One day, his mother fell ill, died, and it became his father's, the king of the Northern Vermin Union, responsibility to care for their son. King Kiek, his father, had forgotten that he even had a son!

Now, Whiteazur the ferret was running. He had a Pearl of Lutra. Whiteazur wished he had time to cover up his tracks in the snow, but the minions of his father were right on his heels. Whiteazur knew the truth about Zireth's death. She wasn't sick. She was poisoned. His father had slipped some arsenic into Whiteazur's mother's drink at a feast two nights ago. Why had Kiek poisoned Zireth? She had a Pearl of Lutra and he wanted it. Kiek showed no remorse at his wife's death. He called death a necessary evil. The strong lived, the weak died. Zireth's death wasn't supposed to be then.
To remember his mother, Whiteazur added the word 'arsenic' to his last name. Prince Whiteazur Arsenica.
Whiteazur had the Pearl of Lutra his father wanted. And now he was being chased. Being chased by a two ungainly rats. Chancing a look behind his, he crashed into a pine. Whiteazur fell back, stunned. The rats came up to him, gasping loudly. They whispered, conspiring, not knowing whether Whiteazur was dead or not.
Whiteazur started to growl. The two rats backed away slowly. Whiteazur jumped up, flipping a small dagger out of his belt. The rats were startled by this movement and reached for their cutlasses. Whiteazur started to laugh. "Ha, ha! Foolish rats! It was Kiek who killed my mother! Do I lament? No! I'm the son of Kiek! The one I hate! King Kiek the Ruthless. And now, by my paw, and the name of my mother, and by Hell's Gates! You will perish!" Whiteazur flung himself at the rats after his nice little speech. Raising the dagger, he stabbed blindly. Whiteazur was thrown off by the rats.
In the scrimmage, Whiteazur had gotten a gash across his shoulder. Holding the wound, and breathing heavily, he sneered at the rats. "You'll never get it! It belonged to Zireth." The rats sniggered. Whiteazur staggered from loss of blood. He then fell on the snow, unconscious. Red as blood, and white as snow.
The rats loomed over Whiteazur. He was out cold. Both literally and not. The taller rat reached into the satchel slung across Whiteazur's back. It contained a round object. The rat, Snatchclaw, empty the contents of the pack out onto the snow. Some hard bread, a few pieces of bone needles (belonging to Whiteazur's mother), and, in the snow, lay the pink orb, a Pearl of Lutra. Snatchclaw's mind filled with greed and he slyly looked at Grubbler, the other rat. Gripping his cutlass in his claws, Snatchclaw backed up a bit. "Um... I'm jest going... Over there..." Grubbler (Often known as 'Grubbler the Dense') stared stupidly at the pearl. "Uhhh... ok." Snatchclaw positioned himself behind Grubbler and with a cry, stabbed.
Snatchclaw touched the pearl and then drew his claw away. All his. He grabbed it up and stuffed it in his jacket. He giggled like a dibbun that just pinched a cookie. He started running, a plan forming in his mind. He would tell King Kiek that Whiteazur had killed Grubbler and it turned out Whiteazur didn't have the pearl. His planning was cut short, though, when he tripped on a root hidden by the snow and fell into a frozen river. The ice broke and both Snatchclaw and the pearl drifted to the bottom.
Whiteazur moaned as he woke. He shook his head, as if shaking of a fly. His eyes suddenly opened wide as he clambered through his bag. It was gone. His teeth gritted and he clenched his paws. Those dirty vermin!
The pearl now lay at the bottom of the stream, getting pushed along gently by the current. Someday, somebeast might find it. But not now. Not in a long time.