II

Skivel and Driff arrived at the village without any Mallow. Skivel was disappointed, but she had found a plant for another meal. On their way across the seashore, they had found a patch of Silverweed, a plant that's roots are delicious in salads. Driff though, only found a muddy bog to play in. But, most shrews his age (twelve human years) enjoyed getting messy. The messy shrew's mother had a fit, but couldn't stop chuckling. Brother Figgle, the hedgehog member of the council, and a master chef, was asked to make a centrepiece for the feast. After seeing Driff, he decided to make the first Shrew Mud cake. Skivel didn't have the time to laugh, the festival was nearing and she hadn't started to cook. "Let's see. A cup of Silverweed roots, check; crushed chestnuts, check; chopped may apple slices, check; a cup of Hog-peanuts. Hmm, don't have any of those, maybe Brother Figgle does." She hurried to the old hedgehogs burrow. Figgle always had something. She also looked just in case more food was needed. The books called for two bull thistles stems. She would get some on the way back. She reached the old hogs home. It was dark.

Skivel slowly climbed down, hoping to find a torch nearby. There was one at the bottom.

"Brother Figgle, Brother Figgle !. Where is that old spiked fiend?" she asked. " Fiend? No fiends here. No one here but old Figgle!" said a voice from the lit-up entrance. Now what can I do fer ya young' in ?" said a voice from behind the squirrel maid. Behind her was a large spiky figure. As the light neared it, she saw it was Figgle. "Oh, it's only you Brother. I was afraid it was a monster. How did you speak in two places at once?" Skivel asked. "Just an old hedgehog trick. Called voice tossing. Now, what can I do for ya Skivel? Need some advice on how to keep flies out of your pastries?" said Figgle. "No brother, I needed a cup of Hog-peanuts, and I wondered if you had any. I need them for the feast.". Figgle motioned for the Squirrel to follow him. He led her to a room in his kitchen. It was a food cellar. "Now then, you's want'en some Hog-peanuts, eh? I's thinking I may have some. Not sure though. Look around and see if you find some. If you do, just holler!" said Figgle. He walked back to his kitchen. "I's need'en to work on me Shrew mud cake." Skivel was left alone. The cellar was filled with jars upon jars of supplies and drinks. Their names were marked on old paper. Maybe she could find some of those bull-thistles too.

Blackspawn the toad lead his army of martens and toads through the dense willow forest.

The old croaker wanted the Rose of Banarang all for himself. He planned to give it to Rawfur and then slay the Badger, so he could have power over these woods. Lord Blackspawn sounded good to him. His right paw Stripepaw the Marten, his only loyal companion, would be the only one to share the wealth. Stripepaw was a good servant and was always by his leaders side, defending the toad's backside. He knew he was to get a share, so he would stay loyal. For now.

The group travelled on, unknowingly being fallowed by one of Rawfur's crows. They had good hearing. Rawfur knew not to trust the old toad. He just needed proof. And this was it. The badger had more armies then tadpoles in the stream. Once the rose was in his paw, he would reward Blackspawn with a slow painful death. The near furless badger rested in his den. With the Rose of Banarang with him, he would have unlimited power. He also knew one thing that the toads men didn't. There was a monster in those waters deadlier than any weapon…..