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Hello everybody. Well, here is the sequel to my
previous Ice Age fanfiction called 'The Underworld'.
If you haven't read 'The Underworld', I suggest you
read that one first, because otherwise you will
probably not understand this story completely.
I hope you will enjoy this fanfic.
Snowy Stoat.
.
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Back to the Underworld.
Prologue.
…
There was no sound in the air, except for the soft sound of the waves on the sand. A lonely seagull spread his wings and flew away. Away, to a place less gloomy than this.
Something was lying on the sand.
The seagull spotted it. He screeched, turned around and landed on that thing, whatever it was. It was furry and black with a white figure on it.
The seagull poked in it to see if it was eatable.
Suddenly, the thing screamed in pain as the seagull's beak poked through his skin.
The seagull screeched, and flew away. He didn't want to eat something that was screaming like that.
The thing on the sand moved. He slowly reached out his paw.
It was a badger. A filthy, tired badger. Something had happened to him. He was wounded, and almost couldn't move. But he had to stay alive. He had to.
He reached out his other paw. He had something in it. Something that shone in the red light of the setting sun.
It was a knife. A big knife made of ivory.
The badger looked at it. This knife didn't belong to him. He found it. He found it near a deep cave. He never looked what was in the cave. Maybe humans, because this knife could have been made by humans. He wasn't sure.
Whoever the knife belonged to, the badger didn't care. He had the knife now. And it was a good one.
He finally had enough strength to stand up.
He looked around and saw that he was on an island. He had seen it before, when the ship he used to serve on sailed in these waters.
The badger walked to the small group of trees that was on the middle of the small island. Walking was slow and painful for him, but he managed to stay on his feet.
Too late, he realized the ground under his feet was weak and thin, with under it completely nothing. No rocks, just emptiness.
He fell.