Disclaimer: I own everything in this story! -looks around at blank stares- … Well, I do the characters and the (probably nonexistent) plot. Everything else is Brian Jacques.
Okay, so let me give you poor, poor readers a heads up right now. 1. This is my first attempt at fan fiction. 2. I am a 13 year-old who just drank 2 cans of soda, a thing of sugar pills known as Smarties, and some other sugary junk. (A long winded version of saying I'm practically on a sugar high at 11 at night) 3. Uh… While typing the last one I forgot what this one was and on that note, I am VERY forgetful. And therefore will need help (and inspiration) in updating if anyone ends up liking this. Hint hint!
If you don't want to read that, basically I'm saying this story will probably suck. So shut up and leave me alone. -is already crashing-
'Thoughts' "Dialogue"
Prolougue: Meet Bluligtnin
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The desolate, lonely landscape of seemingly unending plains and dunes roll on for as far as the eye could see. Which, sadly, was a very short distance due to the rain that hammered the earth, as if beating it for some unknown wrong. The only thing that could be seen, besides the rain, was a single creature, walking due south. Upon closer inspection, one would be able to tell it was an otter, and a very strange one at that.
He was surprisingly tall, taller than most otters, and because of his almost abnormal-looking height, he looked as if he was going to pass out from lack of food. Yet, as the rain plastered the young otters strange gray-brown, with what looked like blue tattoos covering most of him, one could also notice he was, like most otters, very strong, with good sized muscles for his long arms and legs.
But what many would find most fascinating about the young beast, were his eyes. Cold, hard, with none of the usual spark that one so young would normally have. It was as if he had already been through many seasons of hardship, although he only looked to be maybe 18 seasons or so.
And so this depressing-looking being trudged on, with nothing on his back but a hooded cloak, and small pack, both of which was thoroughly soaked. He glanced behind him, as if looking for someone following, and had to smirk, just a little. Everywhere around him looked the same, and the only way he knew he was traveling in the right direction were his pawprints, making sure he was going in a straight line.
"Due south, boy, past sand and sea,
Past the dunes, and grass, and plains,
Until high above, ye will see,
Huge trees tower high over thee.
And through that forest ye need go,
To await his hate-filled eyes.
There you will have a happy 'Hello!'
Before a tearful goodbye."
He snorted. "What a bunch o' searat fur. That crazy ol' fox pro'aly told 'im to go due north. Why'm I even trying to follow the hag's prophecy? S'not like I believe it." His usually deep, gruff voice was quiet as he talked to the rain, trying to figure out what he was doing following some 'crazy vixens load of crap'.
He sighed, more out of exhaustion than confusion, though he was feeling a lot of both, and looked up. He stopped and gasped, sputtering out water as he threw himself at the muddy ground, still staring staight ahead, eyes widening.
A horde, a whole bloody horde of hares (he could tell by the ears) and another very large creature, which he suspected to be a badger, very close to him. Too close for his comfort.
Suddenly he felt himself being half-lifted up by his pack, and turned around to face a very stern-looking grey hare with brown eyes. "I say, sah. Jolly bad form, laying in the mud like that, wot wot!" He winked at the otter before dropping him. "Should try an' look your bally ol' best for the badger lady of Salamanderscone, er, I mean Saladoverstone, or is it…"
"It's Salamandastron, Greyescut. And who is that there?" The otter was aleady up and trying his best to clean himself up to reclaim his dignity. He glanced at the hare and elderly badger, his eyes seeming to go colder than before.
At least before the hare cuffed him on the back of the head, eyes narrowed warningly. "Stand to attention, sah! Present thyself to Badger Lady Cina, eh wot!" The old badger easily picked the elder hare up, placing him down beside her. "Really Greyescut, I think your being a little hard on the young man. I'm not all that important now! Honestly, the real Badger Lord is back at the mountain, remember? My time has been over for a while now." Greyescut's ears lowered. "But marm…" She half turned away. "No. I'm going to go and see if the Abbey needs a Badgermum. My time at Salamandastron is over. 'Tis written." "No, no, no, wot! The h'otter! 'E's leaving!"
Sure enough, the young otter was continuing on his journey, pushing his way past the hare in the ranks, glaring and baring his teeth menancingly at any who tried to say anything. "Hm. Bally odd ol' chap, h'ain't 'e?" Greyescut muttered to the former badger lady. "Aye, but don't he look different? Acts more like a vermin than a goodbeast, even looks almost like one."
"Think 'e is vermin?"
Cina and Greyescut exchanged glances, before Greyescut found his way though the ranks, grabbed the otter by the shoulder and spun him around. "Say, sah, where'd you say you were from?" Shrugging the hare's paw off, he glared. "Didn't say. An' it ain't none of yore business neither." He said flatly. The hare bristled, ears straightening in dignity. "You are a bally vermin aren't you, y'cheeky little blighter! Can't y'see we're just tryin' t'be friendly?" The otter turned around, heading south again. "Ain't got any friends. I'm not vermin, nor goodbeasts. But if ye don't keep those muddy paws off me, I can turn vermin!"
If took two younger hares to restrain the now yelling Greyescut. "Cad! Confounded streamwalloper! Come back and face me like a beast!" But the otter merely looked back, called, and continued walking.
"You wouldn't stand a seasons chance in battle against Bluligtnin"
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