Chapter Five: Seasons Passing, Ever Fading

As time passed, Campion continued to grow up. He watched over Moss from afar, although he rarely, if ever, spoke to the young buck. One thing worried him, however. Ivy was beginning to spend less and less time at home, and she refused to say where she had been. He knew it had something to do with that doe, Bramble, Vine's sister, but he wasn't sure what it was. Another thing that annoyed was the fact that most of the rabbits his age had started...well...dating. Or whatever a rabbit in his young adult years would call it. Campion personally called it stupid...until the day that Vervain arrived back from a raid with a very pretty doe as the only captive.

"Where are the rest?" Campion asked. Ordinarily, after coming back from a raid of the scale Vervain had been planning, there would have been a whole string of captives.

"She was alone, other than some old rabbit. He got away. We spent the whole day looking for her warren and found absolutely nothing because of her stubborn stupidity."

The doe growled at him. She was very attractive, indeed. Her pale green eyes flashed with anger.

"I am not stupid! You are the stupid ones, if you think that I will remain here willingly! Where is the Chief Rabbit of this warren? I'll even settle for the Captain of Owsla!"

Campion laughed.

"Sadly, I am the Captain of Owsla."

It was the truth. Woundwort had promoted him only a few weeks before, much to Vervain's chagrin.

"You?" the doe scoffed, "You're no older than I am."

"In this warren, the young and strong hold sway over the old and weak," Campion said calmly, "However wise the old may think themselves, General Woundwort is the wisest and bravest rabbit on earth."

"Is that so?" asked the doe, her voice cold, "And what is your name, Owsla Captain?"

"Campion. Yours?"

She sniffed.

"Primrose. Daughter of the Chief Rabbit of Redstone Warren, not that that matters."

"Why doesn't it matter?" Campion asked.

"Because you'll never find it. And I would rather die than lead you there."

"I see. Vervain, put her with a Mark. Which one doesn't matter."

As Campion turned away, he stole one last glance at the creamy doe. She was glaring hatefully at him. For some reason, Campion found it charming.

"Am I in love?"

But with the busy life he had to lead, Campion had little time to think about Primrose. He had an Owsla to supervise. And with spring coming on, every young buck in the warren was volunteering for the Owsla. He shook his head mournfully as he watched the young rabbits sparring with each other. One young buck in particular was continuously tripping over his own paws. His opponent wasn't giving him a chance, either. When he realized that the clumsy recruit was bleeding, the sienna-furred Captain decided that it was time for him to step in.

"You two there!" he barked, "Yes, you! Come here!"

The two recruits trotted over.

"State your names."

The larger rabbit answered immediately, and calmly.

"Redwood, sir."

Campion turned toward the smaller buck. He was trembling violently, and doing a poor job of hiding it. Not Owsla material at all.

"And you?"

"B-b-blackavar. A-a-are w-we in t-t-trouble?"

"No, you aren't. But Redwood here should be more careful."

"Sorry, sir."

"It's all right. Just...be a bit more careful, and I'll try and get you a partner who's a bit closer to your skill level next time, shall I?"

Redwood grinned and scampered off. Blackavar's shoulders drooped.

"What's wrong?" Campion asked, "He didn't hit you that hard."

"Even I know what a skill level means," Blackavar said, "I'm no good."

"Keep believing that, lad, and it will start to be true," Campion said softly, "You're plenty good, just not quite caught up to the others yet. Run along now."

Blackavar turned and trudged off. Campion sighed. The poor kit really had no chance. With plenty of training, maybe. But Campion didn't have enough officers at his disposal to give all the kits their own teacher. As he stood there thinking, he heard someone squeal something that sounded suspiciously like 'fluffy', and a moment later he felt someone land on his tail.

"Hey!" he growled, twisting his head around to see who it was. "Get off!"

The little grey buck who had been attached to his tail immediately let go and fell on the ground with a thump.

"Sorry, sir."

Campion's annoyance evaporated. Moss's pale eyes were full of innocence and apology.

"No harm done, lad. Just don't go jumping on any other officers because they happen to have fluffy appendages."

"Yes, sir."

"And don't call me sir. Campion is fine."

"Yes, sir," said Moss playfully, before scampering back to wherever he had come from.

Campion sighed. Even his own brother now called him sir.

Ivy, meanwhile, was living her dreams. Woundwort had seen the need for a more subtle group of spies, not connected with him in any way. And what better way to do that than to utilize the does? Ivy, along with Vine's sister Bramble, had been one of the first recruits. Columbine, however, had not been recruited. The problem was having to keep everything a secret from everyone. Only Woundwort, Vervain, and Thistle knew about it. Campion did not. Woundwort trusted Campion, but he feared his Captain of Owsla would be disgusted by the idea of sending the does into danger.

However, Ivy's life was not all a secret. After training, she often hung out with Thistle and Vervain, when Vervain was available. The coal-colored buck was often with Columbine. It was no secret that they liked each other. Ivy had no particular attraction to either buck, but Thistle was good fun, and Vervain was nearly as smart as she was.

This particular evening, she had arranged to meet up with Bramble, Thistle, Vervain, and Columbine to hang out. At the last moment, she thought of Campion. She hadn't spoken with her brother lately, and she thought at the very least she could invite him to join them.

The peach-colored doe made her way to the burrow which she and her brother still shared, and was surprised to actually find him at home.

"Campion."

He jumped.

"Ivy. Where have you been?"

She shrugged.

"Out. I just wanted to drop by and ask if you wanted to come hang out tonight. Vervain will be there, and some of the others, too."

Campion thought about it. It would mean a boring night of being ignored, but, since his sister had invited him...

"Why not?"

This chapter really sucks...oh, well. I just want this to be done now. Next chapter will wrap it up, I think. And then one more short fic, and come January I will launch the new full length one.