"Ugh. My head.", the otter groaned. He sat up, clutching his pounding skull.

"Ah, you're awake.", an emotionless voice said. The otter opened his eyes. Standing in front of him was a marten, his paws restrained by steel shackles. Startled by the presence of a vermin, the otter quickly got to his paws.

"Easy.", the marten said. "You have a relatively large gash on your head and a possible concussion."

"What do you what, vermin scum?", the otter asked, glaring viciously at the pine marten.

"Calm yourself, otter.", the marten advised. "You and I are in the same boat, or in this case, cart."

The otter scoffed at the vermin's statement. "We have nothing in common, scum. Prepare to die!", he declared dramatically. The otter charged forwards, only to find himself stopped short before he could take two steps.

"As I said, you and I are in the same situation.", the marten said, gesturing to the short length of chain attached to a metal collar around his neck. The otter reached his paw up to his own neck, feeling the cold piece of steel surrounding it.

"What is going on here, vermin?", the otter demanded.

"The situation we find ourselves in is as follows.", the marten said. "We are in chains, locked in a cart, and are surrounded by armed woodlanders with orders to kill us should we attempt to escape."

"Why would woodlanders what to kill me?", the otter asked, glaring at the marten.

"Perhaps because, with your face scarred up like that, you appear to be some kind weasel or stoat to them.", the marten answered. " By the way, my name is List."

The otter, unable to come up with a response, just stared at List. "This, friend, is the point in the conversation where you would inform me of your name.", List said. The otter looked down his nose at the marten.

"My name, vermin, is Hastings Streambattle.", he declared proudly.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." The cart struck a bump in the road, jarring the vehicle and its occupants.

"Any idea where this cart is going?", Hastings asked.

"No."

" Well, why don't we ask the goodbeasts outside?", the otter suggested. He turned towards the wall and pulled himself up to the narrow window that let in light. Outside, he saw a sable-furred hare marching alongside the cart, a lance resting across his shoulder. "Hey! You there!", he shouted at the buck. "What is going on here?"

"Silence vermin scum!", the hare shouted before striking Hastings' fingers with the butt of his lance.

"Ow!", Hastings said as he jerked his bleeding fingers back inside the cart.

"Not a particularly friendly fellow is he?", List commented.

"I'm not a vermin, you stupid hare!", Hastings shouted angrily. This earned him a hard thrust to the skull. Hastings staggered back, his forehead bleeding.

"If I hear another word from you, you'll regret it.", the hare warned. The otter stood there, clutching his aching head.

"Perhaps you should sit down?", List suggested. Hastings took the advice and sat down. The two sat in silence for awhile, before Hastings tired of the silence and decided to strike up a conversation.

"So, what's going to happen when they let us out of this cart?", the otter asked.

The marten reached under his collar and scratched the yellow mark on his throat. "Unsure.", he said. "If they were planning on just killing us, they would have likely done so by now."

"How long have we been in this cart?", Hastings asked.

"Approximately two hours.", List answered. "I suggest we just sit tight and see what happens." The marten produced a pipe and proceeded to blow smoke out of it.

Hastings sighed and leaned against the wall, resigned to waiting for something to happen.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, the cart came to a stop. The guards opened the door and unlocked the chains from the walls of the cart. "Out, vermin scum!", shouted the sable hare that had struck Hastings.

"I am not a vermin, I'm an otter, you ignorant beast!", Hastings shouted. The guards responded by jerking on the chain, causing the otter to fall face first onto the ground. The sable hare placed his footpaw on Hastings back and his spear point on his neck.

"Silence , scum." He reversed the spear and slammed the butt into Hastings' head. Stars exploded into the otter's vision as blood trickled down his head. The hare turned to List. "Pick up your fellow scum, vermin.", he ordered.

The marten did as he was told and threw Hastings' arm over his shoulder. Grunting, he managed to lift the much heavier creature to his footpaws.

"Follow.", the hare ordered before turning around and walking towards the small, wooden blockhouse in front of them. List helped Hastings limp towards the fortification.

The hares led them through opened portcullis into the courtyard of the fort. "Take them to the prison.", the sable hare ordered.

"Yes, Captain Bann Nightfur.", a white hare said. " Follow me.", he said. List and Hastings followed the hare to small barracks made of wood. Opening the barred iron door, the hares shoved both of them into the structure. Slamming the bars shut, one of the hares looked at the prisoners. "Enjoy your stay.", he said mockingly, before turning around and walking away the prison.

"You okay? ", List asked in his unusual emotionless voice.

"Yeah.", Hastings groaned as he got to his paws.

"Easy.", List advised. The otter looked around his surroundings. They were in a medium sized room with wooden walls that smelled of pine and the floor strewn with dried rushes.

"Vermin." The two turned to look towards the door to see a young male squirrel aiming a crossbow at them. "Hand over those rings if you please vermin.", he said. List removed gold and silver woven ring and an engraved onyx ring from his fingers and handed them over to the squirrel. "And now that tail ring.", he said, gesturing to the blued steel band around Hastings rudder.

"No.", Hastings said firmly.

The squirrel scowled angrily at Hastings. "Unless you want a bolt through your guts, scum, you will give me that ring." The otter glared defiantly at the squirrel, who rose his crossbow to his shoulder and prepared to fire.

"Just give it to him.", List advised.

"You should listen to your friend, scum.", the squirrel said. Hastings removed the band from his rudder and, looking one last time at scene of otter warriors battling vermin engraved upon it, handed it to the squirrel.

"Here you go, thief.", he said angrily.

"Thief?", the squirrel scoffed. " I but reclaim property stolen by you from your victims, vermin." He then walked away from their cell with his ill-gotten gains.

"Now, Hastings, remain calm.", List said, seeing his cellmate's eyes turn a reddish hue.

"Calm?!", Hastings exclaimed. "That belonged to my father and grandfather!"

"Shouting is not going to get back.", List said. "So just calm down and maybe you can reclaim it on our way out." Hastings looked at List quizzically. " What do you mean on our way out?"