Flaire Icefang cut an impressive figure. Tall and sinewy, she was lithe and graceful in every movement, though it was only her dangerous green eyes that betrayed her skill in battle. She wore a cloak of dark emerald-green, underneath that a cream-coloured tunic. A leather belt was strapped diagonally from her shoulder to her opposite hip. It had two loops of cord on the back, which held Flaire's pike. The villainous weasel also carried a small dirk. Whenever she smiled, the sun glinted off the diamond embedded in one pearly-white fang. It gave the impression of sparkling ice--her namesake.

"Scroot!" She barked, "get Sydscri. I need to talk to her."

The ferret sped off, and returned shortly with the stoat in question following.

"Sydscri, I will be leaving at dawn for our usual rounds of slave-snaring. I leave you in charge. If anything goes wrong, I hold you responsible. No double-dealing." Flaire's green eyes told Sydscri that any mistake would mean certain death.

Sydscri nodded, gulping. She had been left in charge before-- nobeast questioned Flaire's chosen officer. Though each soldier could thing for themselves, each knew that flaire could not be overthrown. The twisted carcasses of those who had tried still lay outside the fortress. "Yes, m'lady. May th' fates go with yer."

"Good." Flaire turned and swept off. "Slavers! Rally to me!"

The fourscore, same as those who had attacked Typhoon's holt a season back, assembled quickly before her. Flaire waved her pike. "D'you all have what ye need?"

"Yes, m'lady!" They called out in unison.

"Splendid. We leave at dawn." Flaire smiled, firelight from the soldiers' camp glinting off the diamond set in her fang.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Early the next morning, before the breaking of dawn, Zenith awoke. He made his way over to the centre of the compount. The young squirrel stared at the small pile of fruit for a few moments before running to rouse his friend.

"Ty, wake up! Our friend the fennec dropped us a present!"

Typhoon Skye was awake immediately. She ran over and picked out a juicy pear and sank her teeth into it. "Mmm, 'tis lovely!"

Zenith, not looking at what he was eating, had bit into the scroll. He spat it out and shook it at Typhoon. "Wot d'you make o' this?"

"Open it, Zen, you ninny!" The otter replied, smiling.

"Oh, er, right..."

The scroll was made of barkcloth and tied together with some twine. It opened easily. There were only four words on it, and it was signed with a pawprint which pad was a spiral.


'Stone wall at dusk.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Flaire Icefang and her slavers had left the fort. They were trekking at a fast pace through the woodlands.

"Where to, Icefang?" Scroot inquired, panting.

"To th' mountains. There are some tribes up north." The weasel growled as she leapt over a large rock, over which Scroot stumbled.

"T-to th-th' mount-t-tains?" Scroot felt faint. "B-but t-there're w-w-wolves out th-there!"

"Exactly."