"Everybeast! Everybeast! May I have your attention, please?!" A mouse stood atop one of the tables.

The villagers continued to chatter and eat.

"Everybeast, please! This is important!"

The villagers paid him no attention...except for Mella, a hulking badger who was more-or-less in charge. Mella, noticing the mouse's urgency, stood up and yelled, "QUIIIEETT!"

Everybeast went silent, and turned their heads to the leader's table. Not even the crickets dared to make a sound.

"Um, thanks Mella," the mouse on top the table said. He cleared his throat. "Everybeast, I have distressing news. I just came back from the fields. The crops are all dying!"

There was a collective gasp, and then everybeast started murmuring, disputing the mouse's claims.

"What do you mean?!" a portly fox called out. "We've been tending the fields ev'ry day, and we just 'ad a successful harvest last week!"

"Yea!" an equally portly mousemaid agreed. "I just tended to the tomaters this mornin', an' they's looked perfectly healthy t' me!"

"But it's true!" the young mouse on the table pleaded. "The leaves are turning brown, the wheat and barley are all wilting, the berry patches are barren-!"

"Whadda you know?!" a rat called out. "I've never seen ya work the fields, whelp! Yous prob'ly saw a few bare patches! Not like ev'ry plant makes et!"

Murmurs of agreement and jeering started, till Mella stood up again. "ENOUGH! Think, you morons! What does Merrick stand to gain from lying about something like this?!"

Everybeast went quiet.

"We must keep calm! As Callock said, we just harvested last week. If we ration the food we have, we can make it till next planting season. And we can always survive on fish and shrimp from the nearby stream. In the meantime, we must start investigating the source of this."

Everybeast murmured quietly amongst themselves, but soon got up to prepare. This would probably be Camp Culloc's last feast in a long while.