Hello, everyone. It's finally time for another update. Once again, I apologize for the... lateness with this chapter. I really haven't been intending for the waits to be so long between updates, they've just sort of happened. Unfortunately, I'm getting into that time of my life where my school life is becoming the most important thing to me, and with that, my work, my art, trying to have a social life, and the fact that I'm currently looking for a new place to live and am soon going to be transferring colleges and living on my own for once, I've entered a very trying part of my life that has really been leaving me with very little time to do much of what I want to do. But don't worry, I fully intend to finish this fanfiction, regardless of how long it takes me, though the time between updates might still be long because of it. I hope you all forgive me.
In other news, can you all believe that it's been more than a year since I've first published this? I can't. It's pretty crazy, and I have to keep telling myself to not worry about the time and to just simply keep writing.
Special thanks to those of you who reviewed in the time since my last update: Guest, Honeycloud of Riverclan, Blackish, Minkspit, Freya Thorine (50th reviewer, ohmigosh), Brown, MetallicTaste, and Quaver Ava. I can't say how much I love all of you guys for supporting my story and helping me to break 50 reviews. When I first started I could never have thought that this would have gotten so much support, so it really means a lot.
Now then, the real part everyone cares about: the story. Today's update is something I know a lot of people have been waiting for since both characters were introduced. I hope you all enjoy.
Good Fences:
-Chapter 9: Children-
It was a few hours before sunset when Strong had finished his supper and was admitted outside to play, but the young otter had no intentions of playing.
The late afternoon sun beat down upon the fur on the young one's back as he pushed open the gate to the picket fence he had helped his father build around their home and carefully closed it behind him. It had taken much deliberation in his head as he sat silently at the supper table, but he had finally decided that he would follow his mother's advice and try to come up with his own opinions on his vermin neighbors. Just like when he had managed to spear his first fish earlier in the day, Strong had an ecstatic feeling coursing through him at the very thought of doing something by himself, and so, with a spring in his step, he made his way down the short incline to the foot of the lake and gave a look to the rickety shack that lay on the other side.
"Wait here, Brushy," Strong said as he sat down the squirrel doll he had been carrying along with him upon the shore before taking a tentative step into the shallow water. The soft clay felt cool underpaw as the young otter waded through the shallows, allowing himself a toothy grin that grew wider with every step he took. Then, when the water had almost reached his neck, he leapt forward with his arms outstretched, using them to propel himself forward one time before letting his legs and lower body do the rest and push him deeper and deeper under the water's surface.
When the young otter opened his eyes, normally he would have been frightened by the sheer darkness all around him and would have scrambled for the faint glimmer of light at the surface, but being underwater was like a whole different world to him. It was calm and felt strangely safe, like in a cave of some sort or as if he were back at Redwall where he knew that nothing could harm him. His father had already shown him that there was nothing to be afraid of in the lake, no monsters that lurked in the deep, and so, with that in mind, Strong showed no fear in the dark water, turning somersaults and twirls as he made his way to the other side of the lake. The water grew shallower as he darted in the direction of the opposite bank, until eventually the top of his head touched the surface and mud and pebbles rubbed against his belly, and he was forced to emerge from the water once more.
Here the young otter paused and stared at the rickety shack that loomed in front of him. His father had told him on multiple occasions that he wasn't supposed to go anywhere near to , let alone the foxes who lived inside, and, for a moment, Strong could only stare at the forbidden structure that stood before him as if it would swallow him whole. Thoughts raced through the young one's mind about whether or not he should obey his father's instructions and swim back to the safety of his own home, but his mother's advice rang in his head and made him stand his ground. Were they really the monsters his father was convinced they were, or were they better than that? Only he could find out for himself.
Strong bravely crawled forward, fighting against every instinct that told him to swim away to his home and hide behind his mother's skirts like he used to do when he was a Dibbun. He ducked down low among the reeds and bulrushes, keeping only his head above the water's surface as he inched closer to the bank so as to not be seen.
Strong waited there for nearly fifteen minutes for something to happen, anything really, but the shack stood motionless as always and no sounds came from within. It wasn't much longer before the young otter grew bored of waiting, and was about to leave and try again another day when one of the wooden window shutters was pushed open.
Strong ducked down further among the reeds at the sudden activity, doing his best to keep himself hidden. Mister Rederick was in the window frame, his left paw holding tightly onto the open shutter and his narrowed eyes darting across the lawn as if he were searching for somebeast. The young otter shrunk down further, hoping that that beast wasn't him.
"Where in Hell has that brat got off to?" the fox growled to himself with a scowl as his eyes continued searching. "Better not be in the damn woods..."
The fox's eyes lingered there for a few moments at the edge of the woods, growing more narrowed in concentration as he scanned through the foliage before he turned his gaze back towards the lake. Strong stayed silent in his hiding place, hardly daring to breathe and let himself be seen by Mister Rederick as he surveyed the water's surface. The young otter's heart skipped a beat and he almost screamed as the beast's amber eyes suddenly moved to the foot of the lake and passed right over him and his hiding spot.
Only a single moment passed before Strong saw the spark of realization appear in the trained archer's eyes. The young otter panicked, quickly taking in a muffled gulp for breath and ducking down under the surface before the fox had the chance to see him. With where he was, he could not see Mister Rederick anymore but the otter cub couldn't shake the feeling that the vermin's gaze was right on top of him. He clenched his eyes shut, fighting to make it go away.
Strong stayed underwater for as long as he possibly could, doing his best to hold his breath and keep himself from being seen. He didn't want to come up, he wanted to stay under the surface in his world where he knew it was safe, but eventually the young otter's lungs felt like they were going to burst, and so, he tentatively poked his head back above the surface of the lake, ready to face whatever might be in store for him. Immediately his eyes darted to the window that Mister Rederick had been peering out of.
If the fox had actually seen him or not, Strong had no idea, because the window shutter was now closed and Mister Rederick was nowhere in sight. Maybe he had gotten lucky, the young one figured to himself, and the fox hadn't seen him at all. Or maybe, he had been seen and the vermin was trying to sneak up on him. Strong glanced frantically back and forth around him to make sure that wasn't the case as thoughts began to race through his head. Perhaps while he was hiding underwater, Mister Rederick had left to tell his father how near he was to their home, or, rather, maybe the fox was still inside his home, getting his bow.
That thought was all it took to convince Strong to dive back underneath the surface and get as far away from the shack as he possibly could, shooting through the water like a stone fired from a sling. The young otter surfaced for a quick breath and gave a glance over his shoulder at the foxes' home before quickly going back under where he knew it was safe. He needed someplace to hide, the young one realized. A hiding spot that only he knew about.
He knew just the place.
With a single kick of his legs, Strong propelled himself as quick as he could towards the cliffside; bubbles erupting from his mouth in an exclamation of pain as he accidentally bumped into the hard rock surface in his haste. The otterlad quickly came up for breath and held tightly onto the stone's surface, his blue eyes tracing along the wall until he spotted the familiar opening of his hidden grotto mostly submerged by the crystal-clear lake.
Strong wasted no time making his way over to it and diving through the narrow opening. It was a tight fit, narrow enough that his father had been unable to get his burly body through it when Strong had first shown it to him on the summer they had arrived at the lake- much to the young one's disappointment- but the otter cub was still small enough that he didn't have much trouble getting through it if he wriggled hard enough.
Strong squeezed himself through the last of the narrow passageway, splashing almost silently into the shallow pool that was at the end of it. The young otter swam to the small rock shelf at the far end of the pool before clambering upon it. He slumped against one of the cave's walls and panted in exhaustion, gazing around him.
In truth, the grotto was nothing more than a small limestone cave with a few stalagnat columns rising from the floor and connecting to the roof of the cavern, possibly formed over several generations as his father had explained to him, but to the young otter it had become something more, his own secret, special hideaway much like the lake was to his father. And much like being underwater, there was a certain sanctity to the place as if nothing could ever disturb him while he was within it.
Strong sighed in relief now that he was sure he was safe in his secret hiding spot.
"Zniffff."
The young otter's ears perked at the sudden unfamiliar sound that came from further within the cavern. It came again, a distinct sniffling noise, and Strong scrambled backwards at the sound of it, his first instinct to run and hide from whatever it was. Though there was enough light filtering in from underneath the grotto's entrance that the young one could see most of the cave clearly, the entire back wall was shrouded in shadow. He peered through it carefully, thinking he saw something move in the darkness.
Strong gulped and got to his footpaws, standing his ground as he took a step forward. "Hello?" he called.
His voice echoed along the cave walls and the mysterious noise immediately ceased at the sound of it. Tentatively, Strong took a few more steps forward to investigate and peered cautiously at the darkness from behind a rock column before moving closer. The young otter was fairly sure he knew where the beast was hiding as a lone pillar of stone stood in the far corner of the cave. Strong crept towards it silently, taking another gulp before darting around it to confront whatever beast was lurking there.
The fox cub who had been hiding behind the stone pillar nearly screamed and leapt backwards- and practically out of his own fur- at the sudden appearance of the young otter, who merely stared at him as the vulpine frantically turned his back to him and wiped at his eyes and face with his paws. There was a look in his eyes, as if he were troubled.
Strong had seen Mister Rederick's son many times before when he had watched and helped his father build the foxes' home, but the was the first time the young otter had ever been so close to the young fox. He was roughly the same age as himself, with grey-tipped ears and a pointed, almost girlish face unlike Mister Rederick's which was almost square and blocky in shape. In fact, he almost looked more like his mother, Miss Konin, than he did anybeast else.
The young fox regained his composure from the scare and looked back to Strong. "Hellgates, thought ya were..." he paused here, his gaze narrowing at the young otter in a seeming look of malice. "Hey! What're ya doin' in here? This is my cave. Get out o' here!"
It took Strong a moment to register what the fox wanted from him, and when he did, the young otter's brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and anger. "Yer cave? I found it first."
"Prove it," the fox cub said, getting to his footpaws and wiping at his eyes once more. "I don't see yer name on it anywheres."
Strong opened his mouth to speak but realized that no matter what he said, the other child probably wouldn't believe him.
"Aye, thought so. Can't prove nothin'," the fox said, reaching out with his paws and shoving Strong backwards.
At first Strong didn't know how to react. Back at Redwall, whenever he had been shoved by another Dibbun, it usually wasn't much longer before the badgermum grabbed them both by the arms and gave them a stern talking to, and for a moment, the young otter almost expected that to happen, but he knew that that wasn't possible. His father had always said whenever it happened to shove them back, but Strong could never find it in him to do it, and so he could merely watch as the young fox pushed him once more in the direction of the pool.
Strong tried to hold his ground, but eventually found his webbed footpaws at the very edge of the short rock shelf and he knew that the next push would almost certainly force him off of it and into the water below. But as Mister Rederick's son advanced on him, the young otter quickly came up with a plan.
The young fox rushed forward, paws outstretched in preparation to send the otter into the shallow pool. It was at this moment that Strong stepped quickly to the side and watched as, with a splash, his attacker charged right past him, slipped, and tumbled straight into the water below.
Strong giggled at the sight of it all, standing tall and ready to gloat at the young fox. But when the beast finally broke the surface with a gasp for air, the otter's laughter quickly died down.
"HELP!" the fox cub cried, his shrill voice echoing all through the cave as his arms tore at the water and his legs kicked in every direction in an attempt to keep himself afloat. "I dunno how t' swim!"
Strong immediately scurried to the edge of the shelf and got to his knees, trying not to panic as he reached out his paw for the kit to take. "Quick, grab me paw!" he called to him.
His previous attacker struggled through the water towards him, reaching out desperately with his paw for Strong to take. The otterlad grabbed it instantly, not even noticing that the fox was now swimming perfectly.
With a devilish grin, he grasped Strong's paw tightly and pulled as hard as he could, yanking the young otter right into the pool with him. Strong twisted upright in the water and quickly surfaced. Annoyed he had been tricked, the riverdog pushed down on the fox's head and dunked him underwater, only to be dunked himself the moment the other child surfaced. The fox laughed and cupped his paws together and pushed against the water, splashing Strong with a great burst of water when he came up again. Grinning the young otter returned the favor. Strong clambered back upon the rock shelf and jumped back off in his best dive, while the fox did his best to mimic it, only to fall flat on his stomach on the surface.
Snarls turned to smiles and yells to shouts of glee as both children continued their antics, so focused on the fun that they were having together, that they had completely forgotten that had even been fighting in the first place.
A little over an hour passed when both children had started to pant and the splashes they made with their paws had grown smaller from their tired muscles. Exhausted, the soaked fox pulled himself onto the rock shelf and stared at Strong, who was turning somersaults underwater.
"How long's this place been 'ere?" he asked when the otter surfaced.
Strong looked around him and back to the other child. He shrugged. "I dunno. Prob'ly like a thousand seasons or somethin'."
"Whoa," the fox said, peering all around him. He looked back to Strong, who stared back at him blankly. For a moment both children stared at each other in silence, each of them having the same thoughts running through their heads.
Strong was the first to break the silence, voicing his thoughts aloud. "Yer a fox," he said matter-of-factly.
Mister Rederick's son cocked his head to the side. "Aye, so?"
My dad- my dad says I ain't supposed to talk to ya," Strong replied. "'Cause yer dangerous."
The fox shrugged. "Okay. Then don't, prissypaws," he answered, looking around him before smiling back at the otter slyly. "But I don't see yer da' nowhere." With a grin, he got to his knees and leaned out over the water, reaching out with a paw for Strong to take.
The young otter stared at it then looked back in hesitation to the fox who offered it, who cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What?" he said. "Ya think I'm gonna trick ya again or somethin'?"
That was exactly what Strong had been thinking, but he shook his head anyway.
"Then why're ya gawking at me like that for, ya dolt?" the fox asked. "Take it."
Strong hesitantly looked back to the extended, black-furred paw, not knowing whether or not he could trust the young vulpine who was offering it. Thoughts about the tales from Redwall of murderous vermin foxes who pillaged lands and killed innocent beasts, and what he overheard of his father's talks with his mother about their deceiving, evil ways raced through the young one's mind. But as he stared at the outstretched paw and back to the young vermin's cheerful, innocent smile, the otter came to his decision and slowly extended his paw.
There were no tricks this time. The otter watched as the other child pulled hard on his arm and did his best to help him back onto the rock shelf. Strong, dripping from his head all the way to his long rudder, knelt down next to his new friend, both of their footpaws dangling in the cool water.
"What's yer name?" the fox asked. "Can't remember."
"Strong," he answered him. "What's yers?"
"Mine's Helk," the other child answered. "Helk Flamepaw," he repeated, pride resonating from his voice at the second part.
It was strange talking to a fox, let alone another child again, so casually, but Strong didn't mind, and was rife with questions for his new friend Helk.
Wide eyed with curiosity, Strong grinned and asked, "So, you kin shoot a bow, right?"
Helk nodded enthusiastically. "Aye. I ain't nowhere near as good as my da' though. 'E's like..." the young fox pantomimed drawing an arrow and notched it to a make-believe bow, pulling the string back and sticking out his tongue in concentration before releasing it with a "pew." He immediately changed his act, clutching at his chest as if he had been shot and falling on his back. Helk laid there for a few moments before giggling to himself. "Back at the horde, my da' was the best archer in the whooole camp-" he paused, quickly correcting himself, "no in all o' Mossflower. An' ya know what? One day, I'm gonna be just as good as 'e is."
Strong smiled along with his friend nodding at the thought of the young fox's dream, when a thought crossed his mind. He looked towards Helk and said, "Yer dad's slain beasts?"
Helk looked at him in confusion before nodding. "Uh-huh, lotsa beasts. More 'an a hundred, at least. There was one beast actually, last season when me an' him went huntin'-" The young fox suddenly stopped here, not going any further.
"What beast?" Strong asked. He didn't know whether he wanted the fox to continue or not, but the young one's curiosity had been peaked.
Helk shook his head quickly. "No, nobeast, I forgot I wasn't-" he stopped again, quickly changing the subject. "What about you? Has yer da' ever slain anybeast?"
Strong hadn't forgotten about the beast Helk had mentioned, but didn't press the matter further and risk his and the fox's just now budding friendship. He thought hard on his friend's question. In truth, he had no idea if his father had ever killed a beast or not. He had always said he had been a part of a patrolling otter holt for a short time in the past, but never really spoke much about it, and Strong had never thought to ask him.
"I don't know," Strong finally answered Helk. "I- I don't think so though."
"Hrmm..." Helk said, sounding bored. He suddenly jumped to his footpaws, rejuvenated and full of energy, and urged Strong up as well. "So, are we gonna play some more, or are we gonna keep bein' boring an' start talkin' 'bout the weather or somethin'?"
Strong stood up along with his friend. "What do ya wanna play? Do ya wanna get in the water again?"
Helk shook his head. "Just like a damn riverdog, can't keep yerself outta the water," he scoffed. "Nah, let's do somethin' else. Y' know any good games?"
Strong thought hard on the question and began naming some of the games he remembered playing with the other Dibbuns at Redwall. "Umm, well we could play Find the Pebble, Collect the Acorns, Leapfrog..."
Helk already didn't look impressed and he yawned. "I dunno, all o' those sound borin'."
"Well, what about you then?" Strong asked. "Ya didn't have any games back at yer horde?"
Helk shook his head and grinned. "Nah, we had lots..." he put a claw to his chin as he tried to name them all. "There was Knife, Slay the Sav'ges, Yank the Tail- but I don't think ye'd be any good at that one; yer tail's too long- umm, throw rocks at beasts 'til they tried t' chase us..." He thought harder, trying his hardest to come up with more. "We didn't have a name fer it, but we had one game where there were these long sticks stuck int' the ground a little ways outta the camp. Nobeast liked us goin' near 'em, so we would try an' sneak past 'em an' see how far we could go. My da' didn't like me playin' it though. Said 'e'd whip me if he ever caught me."
The fox put his claw to his chin again, but Strong had heard enough. None of the grisly-sounding games Helk mentioned interested the young otter at all. In fact, most sounded terrifying and he thought desperately for a different game to play. His prayers were answered as one came to his head. "Err... how about we play Vermin and Woodlanders?"
The young fox's silver ears perked up at the name of the game alone. "How d' ya play?" he asked.
"Well one beast is the woodlander," Strong explained, "and the other is the vermin."
Helk grinned, knowing which role he would choose already.
"Well the vermin's gotta run from the woodlander who's tryin' to tag 'im. Like this." Strong quickly placed his paw on the fox's shoulder as an example. "An' if they get tagged, then they're out."
Helk nodded in understanding and took a few steps back to put enough space between him and Strong.
"Ready?" Strong asked.
"Uh-huh."
The two young ones' game began in earnest, both of them squealing in excitement as they chased each other around the rock columns and along the cavern walls. Strong scurried as fast as his paws could carry him across the cold stone floor but it was barely enough to even match pace with his friend, who darted around the cavern quicker than anybeast the young otter had ever seen. Helk nimbly dodged any attempt made to tag him and only gained more ground whenever Strong tried.
Suddenly, Helk scampered around one of the stone columns in the back of the grotto and when Strong moved to chase him, he was surprised to find the young fox waiting for him. The otterlad felt his friend's paw slap down on his shoulder but paid it no mind as he lashed out with one of his own and tagged the other child on his arm.
"Gotcha!" Strong said with a grin of satisfaction, happy that he managed to catch the swift fox.
Helk looked confused for a moment before frowning in annoyance. "What d' ya mean ya got me?" he asked. "I tagged ya first!"
Strong remembered how Helk had grabbed his shoulder and struggled to explain. "Well, that ain't how it works. The woodlander's s'posed t' tag the vermin. The vermin can't tag back."
"But that's stupid!"
"But it's the rules."
Helk considered this for a few moments in silence before his annoyed look returned and he said, "But that means that the vermin always loses."
Strong had never this considered this about the game he had played so many times before. Nobeast ever wanted to be the vermin, so at Redwall, it had been as easy as each beast taking turns. He quickly suggested the idea to his friend. "Do ya wanna try bein' the woodlander this time?"
Helk crossed his arms and his grey ears fell flat on his head. "No, I don't wanna be a stinkin' woodlander, I wanna be a vermin."
Strong struggled to come up with a solution before Helk could get any more upset. "Well, if ya want, we could make it so the vermin is the one who chases."
Helk, surprisingly, shook his head. "That'd just mean ye'd always lose instead. That ain't fair." The fox cub proposed a solution. "We could make it so that we can both tag instead though, like I thought we were doin'."
"Okay," Strong said with a nod, quickly accepting the simple answer that had been proposed. Why couldn't the rules be changed, he figured?
Helk returned to his cheerful self almost instantly, happy about his solution.
The fox cub got back to his position and it wasn't much longer before the two children resumed their game once more with its new rule. Paws went pitter-patter on the cool, stone floor as they chased each other around the cavern once more, each of them trying their best to tag the other while also avoiding their outstretched paws. Helk was definitely the better of the two, his nimble and lithe movements allowing him to avoid Strong's grasp and sneak in quick tags on him- and earned himself most of the victories- though the young otter's taller size and longer limbs occasionally earned him his own wins and kept the young fox on his toes.
Strong and Helk continued their play into the next hour, swapping between different games as they grew bored of them and changing the rules whenever it became called for. And as they played, the two children forgot completely of the tales they had been told about their different races or the hate between them. For once, both woodlander and vermin talked, played, and laughed together in harmony.
Outside, the sun had finished setting and the light that had been filtering in from under the cave entrance was now completely gone, shrouding the small cavern in darkness. The two children's games ceased prematurely as it became nearly impossible for either of them to see. Strong frowned, disappointment that it was nearly time that he needed to go back home. The young otter turned to Helk, who stared at the dark shadows by the grotto entrance with a look of pure dread. The young fox gulped.
"What's wrong?" the otter asked his friend.
"Nothin'. My da' just told me I was s'posed t' be back before dark..." Helk replied.
"Oh," Strong said as he watched the young fox slip quietly into the water. He hoped that Helk wouldn't be in much trouble.
"Wait!" the otter called to his friend, making him stop and cling to the rock wall to stay put. Strong got into the water and swam next to the young fox. "You'll come back sometime an' play with me again, right?"
"Are ya dumb?" the fox scoffed. "'Course I will."
Strong's eyes lit up at his friend's reply. "Really?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Helk asked with a grin. "Yer my friend, right?"
The otter nodded.
"An' besides, I don't care what anybeast says," Helk continued, "yer not so bad fer a damn riverdog."
The fox was about to push off and leave, but Strong stopped him once more. "Wait," he said. "Ya gotta promise me somethin'."
Helk stopped once more, casting another quick nervous glance at the entrance. "Alright, promise what?"
"Ya can't tell nobeast about this place," Strong said matter-of-factly.
"What? Why not?" Helk asked.
Strong searched for the right words, remembering the same ones his father had used when he had talked about the lake. "This cave. It's our place, not anybeast else's. So you can't tell."
"I can't tell my da'?"
Strong shook his head. "Nobeast." The young otter continued, saying, "and besides, I don't think my dad or yers would like us playin' together. They might not let us."
"Alright," Helk said begrudingly. "I won't tell. I promise." The fox held tightly to the wall with one paw and reached out with the other for Strong to take. The young otter looked at it for but a moment before extending his own paw.
Together, they shook.
No more words were needed. The otter and fox squeezed themselves through the hidden cave opening, neither of them wanting to part. Outside, the moon wasn't visible and so the stars were in full shine above the two children's heads as they swam through the dark water. On the shore, a solitary lantern glowed. Helk looked at it and the figure next to it in dread.
Mister Rederick was donned in his dark cloak and sat hunched over on a small wooden chair on his porch, his fur shining a brilliant orange sheen in the pale lantern light as he whittled away at a long stick with his brass knife. Lying on the ground beside him were several more of the things, all of them with their bark stripped completely off. Strong had seen the sticks a few times before from the more strict parents at Redwall, and had a firm idea what they were for, but the young otter couldn't get his head around why the archer would need more than one of them. His father had never liked the things, always pulling a distinct frown whenever he had seen one be produced by a parent to deal with their misbehaving Dibbun. The young otter could understand why. He had never felt it himself- his father had always said there were better ways of teaching him right from wrong- but it always looked like it would hurt.
Helk seemed to think the same, his look of dread returning at the sight of it. Occasionally a Dibbun had been able to escape the punishment with enough pleading. Strong could only hope that his friend might be able to do the same.
The young one watched as Helk swam to the shore closest to the cliffside and walked anxiously towards his home. Curiosity overcame Strong once more and he found himself swimming silently towards the foxes' home, creeping cautiously back into his earlier hiding spot in the reeds. Mister Rederick still had his head down and didn't see the otter approach. Strong stayed quiet, intending to keep it that way.
Mister Rederick's ears perked up suddenly, and he looked up from his work to his approaching son. There was a brief glimpse of something in the older fox's eye, a look that the otter cub had often seen his mother wear back in the infirmary of Redwall, a look of relief, and Strong could have sworn he saw the beast sigh, but it was gone in almost the same instant, replaced with his usual cold, intimidating glare. The archer went back to his work, stripping the bark off the stick at a slower pace.
Helk ambled cautiously by his father, who said nothing as his son made his way to the door. The younger fox struggled not to make eye contact or even look at Mister Rederick as he nervously reached for the rope handle to the door.
That was when Mister Rederick finally spoke.
"I told you t' be back by dark. Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you, calling your name?" the older fox asked, his voice cold and angry.
Helk lowered his paw away from the door handle. He shook his head.
"Nearly three hours," Mister Rederick said, answering his own question. He stood up from his seat and towered over the young fox to the point where even Strong was afraid of him in his hiding spot. "Nearly three hours I've been calling your name, looking for you. I didn't see you in the front yard or around the lake. I checked behind the house, you weren't there either. I even checked behind their home," he said, pointing with the stick across the lake.
Helk didn't reply. He stayed quiet.
Mister Rederick lowered his paw and calmly said. "You have exactly ten seconds t' tell me where you've been before I take this switch and tan your hide. Starting now."
"I was just playin'!" Helk immediately blurted out.
The older fox nodded. "Aye. But, where were you? Three seconds."
Helk flinched at that, but, despite the simple answer that was available to him, he honored his and Strong's promise and said nothing about the hidden cave or his time playing with the young otter. Strong lowered his head in his hiding spot, feeling guilty for the position he had put his friend in and knowing how much he must be struggling to come up with an answer that would satisfy his father.
"Six," Mister Rederick said at his son's continued silence.
"I was just..." Helk tried to say again.
"Just where?" his father asked. "Eight. Put your paws on the wall." The older fox stepped forward and grabbed his son's paws, placing them as high as the child could reach on the flat of the wall where he wanted them and tightening his grip on the switch in preparation.
Strong watched as the older fox raised it slowly. Despite how angry he seemed, there was a strange almost reluctant air to it all, and Helk's father held it there motionless for a few more seconds, as if to give the trembling kit in front of him a little more time to answer.
When Helk still said nothing, the older fox sighed.
"Ten."
Strong turned his head before he could see anything, but was still able to hear everything. There was a swish and a crack, and Helk cried out as his father whipped him, the same sounds reaching the otterlad's ears a second, third, and fourth time before all he could hear was the younger fox sobbing.
When he was sure it was over, Strong looked back. Helk still had his paws on the wall, tears streaming down his face and too deathly afraid to move from under his father's stern gaze. Mister Rederick's right paw trembled for a few moments before he breathed deeply and the shaking ceased.
"You know," the older fox said to his crying son, "eventually you're going t' learn that you don't want t' get whipped. So I'm going t' see if you've hopefully gotten that through your skull yet. I'm going t' give you another ten seconds, same rules, except this time if you haven't told me where you were by the time I hit ten, I'm going t' use my belt instead. Do you understand?"
With a tremble at the idea, Helk nodded and immediately stammered out a lie from behind his tears. "The w-w-woods."
Strong felt sorry for his friend but couldn't help but smile that the younger fox hadn't revealed their secret. He continued watching.
If Mister Rederick had looked mad before, he was furious now. His grip tightened on the switch and his teeth were clenched in a snarl to the point where Strong half-expected the fox to tan his son's hide again then and there, but he did nothing and merely closed his eyes until his rage subsided.
Finally, he spoke again. "Take your paws off the wall." Helk did as he was told, looking up at his father confused. The olderfox looked down at his kit before repeating the young one's statement. "The woods?"
Helk nodded.
"I thought I told you not t' go in the woods. Didn't I?"
The young fox nodded once more, but kept his head down. He sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "Aye."
Mister Rederick reached forward and grabbed his son's snout, gently guiding it and forcing the younger fox to look directly at him. "And why did I say that, Helk?"
"'Cause it's dangerous," the fox cub answered his father.
"Aye," the older fox said with a nod, still holding his son's chin tightly. "Now explain why in Hellgates you disobeyed me. It better be a damn good reason."
Helk didn't say anything for a few moments, obvious to the young otter that he was trying to come up with another lie. When his father made a motion with his head towards the wall, the young fox quickly opened his mouth to speak. "I was just playin'. There was nothin' t' do around the lake an' nobeast t' play with, so I got bored an' wanted t' look around. I didn't go far."
"I don't give a damn how far you went or not. What if something had happened and you had gotten hurt or slain?" the fox's father snapped.
"'M sorry, I didn't-"
"Think about it? Well how about you use that head of your for once and start?" Mister Rederick said, gripping his son's snout tighter than before. He held it there for a few moments in silence, the older fox staring at his young, frightened son as if he were deciding what he wanted to do with him. He raised an eyebrow suddenly in confusion. "Why are you so wet?"
"I went swimmin' in the lake," Helk answered.
The older fox rolled his eyes. "Of course you did." He stared more intently at his son. "Listen t' me, Helk, and listen t' me good, because I am only giving you this warning once. You are playing with fire, not listening t' me ever, running off on your own without telling anybeast, and it's starting t' tick me off. If I find out that you have disobeyed me or ran off again, I can assure you, you will be very sorry. Do you understand?"
Helk nodded. "Yessir."
Mister Rederick relinquished his son's chin and sighed. "Get inside. I don't know if you've eaten anything or not. There's some bread on the counter if you're hungry. Just be quiet. Your mother's trying t' sleep."
The two fox's made their way back into their home, Mister Rederick grabbing his lantern and bringing up the rear. Strong bravely poked his head out of the water, watching them leave. The older fox stopped there in the doorframe, not moving inside.
"What's wrong?" Helk whispered.
"Nothing," his father answered him. "Go inside." As the young one wisely did as he was told, Mister Rederick slowly pulled his cloak hood over his head.
A shroud of darkness fell over the whole lawn as Mister Rederick lifted the lantern to his snout and blew out the fire within it, and Strong became unable to see anything that wasn't practically right in front of him. The young otter stayed quiet, lowering his head down until the distinct sound of the wooden door opening and closing reached his ears and he could safely assume the older fox had gone inside his home for the night.
Strong carefully raised his head, looking both ways to confirm his guess. Seeing nothing, the young otter turned to leave and go back to his own home.
And then it happened in a single terrifying instant. The moment Strong turned his head, the sound of footpaws brushing through the tall grass reached his ears and, with a single splash of them entering the shallows, the young otter didn't even have a chance to cry out as a paw roughly grabbed him by the scruff and yanked him out of the water.
Strong kicked and squirmed but was unable to free himself from the beast's grip, and when he instinctively tried to yell for his father, he only had the chance to get out the first syllable before another paw immediately clamped itself firmly over his mouth and silenced him.
The beast tossed him roughly on the lawn and Strong scrambled backwards upon the grass, looking up into the narrowed gaze of Mister Rederick. The fox opened his mouth to speak, his sharp canines clenching tightly into a snarl at the young otter.
"What are you doing here?" he snapped.
Strong tried to answer but was too focused on what was in the fox's hand. Clenched tightly in Mister Rederick's right paw was his brass knife. The archer noticed the otter cub's look and gave a glance to it and back to him before stuffing it back into his belt. The fox glared at him, his gaze stabbing into him even further than the knife even could.
"What are you doing here?" he repeated. "You were here earlier today too, I saw you. Did your damn father send you t' spy on me? I've seen how he keeps looking over here, like he's just looking for me to do something he doesn't like. Huh!?"
The barrage of accusations took Strong off guard and he was unsure how to answer them. He stood stunned before the fox, struggling to stammer out a reply. "I-I-I was just- was just curious."
Mister Rederick stepped forward, towering over him. "And is your father just curious too? Is that why you keep watching me?"
Strong tried to hide from under his glare. Once more the vermin stories he had heard at Redwall and from his father resurfaced in his head and otter wanted nothing more than to run back to the water and swim back to his home as fast as he could. The fox took another step forward and grabbed him by the shirt to pull him to his footpaws. The archer had him about halfway up when a sound reached both their ears.
"Strong! It's time to come inside!"
Strong fell back into the grass on his tail as the fox let go of him instantly and ducked away into the shadows. Both beasts looked across the lake where the front door of the young otter's home was thrown open and his mother stood in the entrance, looking around her. With the lantern extinguished, Strong didn't think she could see all the way across the lake, and it didn't take much longer for Mister Rederick to realize this as well and sigh in relief.
The fox looked at him with realization in his eyes. "You weren't..." he started to say but stopped short. A low growl rose in his throat. "They don't know you're here."
"I was playin'. I saw you an' I got curious," Strong said with a shake of his head.
"I'm pretty sure they wouldn't like it if they found out. If I catch you over here again, spying on me, I will personally march you back across the lake myself. Do you hear me?" Mister Rederick whispered.
"Strong!" his mother called again.
The fox gave another look across the lake before turning back to the young otter. "You should go. It's dark. They might start worrying about you."
Strong nodded, not knowing whether he was threatening him or actually trying to give him advice. The young otter quickly got to his feet and ran to the edge of the lake, stepping into the shallows as Mister Rederick's eyes followed him. He jumped into the water with a silent splash, swimming as fast as he could away from the fox and his shack and back to the safety of his home.
And as he swam, Strong thought of his friend Helk, the cheerful, innocent fox, and his angry, intimidating father Rederick, who had almost seemed ready to slay him then and there, and how different both of them seemed. Were they evil like his father believed? Or was his mother right and they were both good? He wanted to say that it was his mother who was right, but all the young otter knew as he made his way through the dark water, was that, now, he was more confused than ever.
