Disclaimer: I do not own Redwall
A/N: This story was originally written for and posted on my Tumblr blog, RedwallThoughts. The italics are taken from the first post I made musing about what might have happened if things had turned out differently in Taggerung. The non-italics are the story that I developed afterward.
Imagine if Tagg had instead inherited leadership of the clan when Sawney died and the clanbeasts weren't entirely sure what to think of the new chief, but they knew he was kinder than the old chief and that he actually tried to take care of them so they decided to just wait and see what happened.
The winter was hard on all of them, but none moreso than Sawney Rath. For the first time in many seasons, the clanbeasts did not fear Sawney's unchecked anger. His age and the pains in his stomach had finally caught up with him. He lay, shivering and moaning within his tent. It seemed that not even the hottest fire could warm him.
As Sawney's health worsened, Tagg took to venturing out into the realm of snow and ice, often disappearing for a day or two before returning to camp. Soon the trips grew longer, taking three, or even four days. On his final venture into the snowy wilderness he was gone for six days, returning half-frozen and with one ear lost to frostbite. By that point it seemed that Sawney was so far gone that Tagg did not dare to wonder off again, lest the clan leader die while was away.
The night that Sawney died, Tagg said nothing, simply sat by the fire staring into the flames. There was no love lost between Tagg and Sawney, yet Tagg could not help feeling very small with the ferret gone. At 17 seasons, he was now the leader of the clan. The weight of the responsibility came crashing down on his young shoulders. Wherrul and Felch buried Sawney, digging as deep as they could in the snow and covering the rest with stone. Wherrul muttered the entire time, but Felch stayed quiet and watched Tagg. The fox had never spoken of Tagg's help that summer evening, as indeed he had promised, but he had quickly become Tagg's most loyal follower.
Tagg and Felch were gone the following dawn when the clan awoke. But the pair returned by noon, shivering and wet, yet bearing between them a line heavy with fish caught in the river. Tagg doled out the fish, telling the clan to eat what they needed, and prepare the rest for travel on the morrow. With stomachs full for the first time since summer, the clanbeasts were loathe to argue. When the next morning broke, so did the camp. Tents pulled down and food packed up for the 10 day march Tagg said awaited them. They complained then, not liking to strike out into the unknown. But the new chieftain was adamant, and soon they went. The complaining struck up again when the tenth day dawned with no sign of stopping, but by dusk it had once again fallen quiet as the clan approached the caves Tagg had found. He told them of how he had journeyed out in search of better shelter, and though the caves were furthest from where the camp had been, they were also the warmest.
Safe in the cave with full bellies and warm fires, the clanbeasts began to talk amongst themselves. Tagg, they knew, was not like Sawney. But perhaps he would not be such a bad chieftain after all.