Hello again! :) Well, this time, we're going even farther back in time: all the way to the days when General Woundwort first arrived in Efrafa. This is basically about how he took leadership, and also there's some nice backstory for our favorite friends/enemies, Campion and Vervain(could I write a story without them?) And also, Twinleaf is here! Well, without boring you further, allow me to present, The Rise of Woundwort.

The Rise of Woundwort Part One: The Arrival

It was a clear, cloudless morning in late winter. Despite the blue sky and brilliant sun, the air was bitterly cold. A small rabbit warren stood in a clearing, a lonely, twisted tree overhanging it. A few rabbits dug through the deep snow in hopes of finding a bit of grass, but most were below ground, huddled together, trying to keep warm, and forget their hunger.

However, on the fringe of the woods, two small rabbits could be seen. They were only kits, and very young kits at that. One, a dark sienna brown buck, paused and looked back at his companion, a charcoal-colored buck, who was floundering hopelessly through the deep drifts and complaining loudly.

"Come on, Vervain," he squeaked, "Stop whining and be heroic for once."

"I don't want to be heroic, I want to go inside!" Vervain wailed, "Why did you drag me out here anyways, Campion?"

"They're starving," Campion said, nodding toward the warren, "If we can find food, we'll be heroes."

"Or we'll be inside an elil's stomach first," Vervain said nervously, "They're as hungry as we are."

Campion had paused and was pawing curiously at a growth on a tree. Vervain rolled his eyes.

"Might as well get ahead of you, so you don't keep telling me to keep up," he muttered, He was nearly two weeks older than Campion, and considered himself the leader, but Campion always seemed to have the best ideas, and the better skill at everything for such a young kit. Vervain was getting very tired of being told to be more like Campion.

Campion did not hear or see him go, and so he was very surprised, a few moments later, to hear Vervain squeal in fear.

"Campion, help me!"

The sienna-furred buck immediately raced off in the direction of his friend's voice, but when he found him, he stopped dead in his tracks. Vervain was being held upside down by the biggest rabbit Campion had ever seen. The huge black rabbit appeared to be examining Vervain closely. A smaller grey buck appeared from behind the black buck and growled at Campion.

"Put him down!" Campion roared. Well, he tried to roar, but it came out as a squeak. All three of the other rabbits stared at him in astonishment. Campion gulped. "Please."

The big black rabbit met his gaze for one long moment. Campion stared fearlessly back. He didn't know who this big hlessi was, but he was scaring Vervain, and he felt responsible for dragging the other rabbit out into the woods. Finally, the huge buck set Vervain down. The charcoal-furred kit raced over and cowered behind Campion.

"Where are your parents?" the hlessi asked. His voice was gruff, but not terribly mean.

"Home," Campion said.

"Do you have a warren, little rabbit?"

"It's called Efrafa, sir."

"Efrafa," the black rabbit paused, as if savoring the word. When he spoke again, his tone was almost friendly.

"I apologize for frightening your friend. I am called Woundwort. What are your names?"

"I'm Campion. He's Vervain."

"And my friend here is Thistle," Woundwort said, gesturing to the grey buck, "We're tired, lost, and hungry. Would we be welcome in your warren?"

"You can come, but there's no food," Campion said.

Woundwort nodded, noticing the pitifully thin condition of the two young rabbits.

"I understand. But a dry place to sleep will be enough to satisfy us."

Campion turned and led the way back to Efrafa. When they got there, they were halted by the Captain of Owsla, Twinleaf, who was acting as Chief after their Chief, Bulrush-rah, had died.

Twinleaf's kind green eyes surveyed the little group and settled on Woundwort, but it was Campion he spoke to.

"Who's this, lad?"

"This is Woundwort, Captain Twinleaf," Campion said, "We found him in the woods. Well, Vervain found him."

Twinleaf looked the stranger up and down.

"You're welcome here, of course," he said, "Although you'll find the warren in a pretty poor state."

"I'm sure I don't mind," Woundwort replied, "I've seen warrens destroyed in my time, and I've seen them in poorer states than this. I might have some ideas that could help your Chief Rabbit."

"Our Chief Rabbit," Twinleaf said coldly, "Is dead. I am acting as Chief until a successor is agreed on."

"I see."

Twinleaf turned to the kits, and noticed Thistle for the first time. His eyes softened.

"Vervain, Campion, who's this?"

Thistle stepped forward boldly.

"I'm Thistle, sir."

"Well, Thistle, how would you like a warm bed tonight, and to meet some other kits your age?"

"I'd rather stay with Woundwort, sir."

Twinleaf glanced at Woundwort, who nodded to Thistle.

"I'll find you tomorrow. Do you good to meet some others your age."

Thistle sighed.

"Yes, Master Woundwort."

Twinleaf smiled.

"Right then. Vervain, may he go with you? I'm sure Ashkin will take care of him."

"One more won't hurt her," Vervain muttered. He turned to Thistle. "Come on."

Campion started to follow them, but Twinleaf's voice halted him.

"Campion? Isn't your burrow the other way?"

"Yes, sir, but..."

Twinleaf laughed.

"Yes, I know you were going with Vervain. He can't always have you to protect him, lad. He has to face life alone sometime."

"Yes, sir, but..." Campion stopped, glanced at Woundwort, and then continued. "It's just, I have a marli and parli, and I have Ivy, but Vervain doesn't have anyone."

"Run along home now," said Twinleaf, "Vervain will be fine."

Campion cast one last reluctant glance at his friend, then scampered off. When he reached the burrow where he lived with his family, he hesitated at the entrance, looked himself over to be sure his fur was tidy, then skipped in.

His mother, a tall peach-furred doe named Lily, looked over at him fondly.

"There you are, Campion! I was beginning to worry."

Ivy sniffed him suspiciously.

"You smell of woods."

"I went to the woods with Vervain, and we met these two hlessil, their names are Woundwort and Thistle, and..." he trailed off as he noticed the annoyed look on Ivy's face.

"I never get to do anything!" Ivy squealed, "Mummy, why don't they ever take me with them?"

"Dearest, you're a doe."

"Then I want to be a buck," Ivy decided.

"What this, then?"

Campion's father, Greywind, had just entered the burrow.

"I see a very pretty little doe, and a very brave little buck. You'll grow into fine rabbits in your own time, and in your own way. So dry your tears, Ives, and tell me about your day!"