(I apologize to those of you who thought Redsplash died in the last chapter. I didn't really mean to leave the chapter like that, but I did. I'm sorry.

Oh, and words like intestine, blood, cannibalistic, and died are used in this chapter. If you feel that you might become sick and/or faint from such words or simply do not want to read them, please do not read this. Thanks. By the way, if you also come across things that are not likely to happen (an otter surviving a fall from an immense height by landing on a fish) please overlook them. I wrote this after having way to much caffeine. I'm not really sure how I came up with the fish thing…)

…

Redsplash, in some twisted miracle, did not die then. Of course, considering the amazing amount of pain that resulted from the less-than-graceful-landing, she was not absolutely sure that this miracle was a good thing. She should have been maimed. A fall from that high up straight into water should have knocked her unconscious. However, thanks to an incredibly fat pike which had decided to jump out of the water for whatever sick psychotic reasons fish jump out of the water, she was alive. She had slammed into one of the pike's exceedingly fat sides, which made for a painful landing but did not shatter or break any important bones. Sadly, for the pike, Redsplash's slamming into the fish's ribs broke the majority of them, along with its spine, and the fish died.

Seconds after Redsplash hit the water, she sank. It was something relatively new to her, as she had always been able to swim for hours without tiring, and when she did sink, she did it on purpose. It took her a moment to realize that she was not dead, and yet another to regain control of all her limbs. By the time she was able to start moving, slowly, towards the surface, she was farther below the surface then she wanted to be. To make it all worse, she could barely manage to move towards the strangely shimmering surface, thanks to the little problems she was having, such as her still useless legs, the ache from landing on the pike that had probably broken at least one rib, and the amazing weakness in her body from the blood she had lost and was still losing. She wondered just how badly the Nameless One had cut her, but then decided it didn't matter, as long as it did not kill her. Of course, if it did kill her, it was all that mattered. Odd, how it worked like that.

After several dizzying tries, where she would rise up and then start sinking, and then, once more, start determinedly rising again, Redsplash broke the surface and heard the screaming. It was an echoing, keening, terrified scream with just enough disbelief in it for Redsplash to know that the screamer was dying. She whirled to see a powerfully built male otter being ripped to pieces by several gigantic pike. Well. That explained why her intestines weren't being ripped out at the moment. Hissing in anger as she realized the Nameless One had probably sent this otter to "rescue" her from the pike, get the location of whatever it was she had stolen out of her, kill her, and then report back to the ferret, Redsplash began hastily making her way towards the shore farthest away from the cliff she had just been thrown from, distancing herself from the cliff and the screaming otter. She heard the Nameless One shouting furiously, probably at the slave whose pained screams were suddenly cut short as some pike ripped out his throat.

Redsplash kept swimming as fast as she could get her dragging limbs moving, fully aware that she was going about as fast as a rather slow bug with half its legs pulled off, but she was unable to go any faster. She did not pause to feel any kind of sorrow or even think about the other otter, just took enough time to be thankful that he had been tall, and, hopefully, muscular or fat enough to keep the pike busy fighting over various of his body for long enough that she could make it to the shore. She knew she should feel pity for him, but she could only conjure up disgust. She wondered grimly how the otter had been bribed and settled on the otter's mate or children. She was able to summon up a little bit of anger at the fact that the cubs would be killed thanks to the otter's ineptitude. But it was not much anger and it did not lend her the energy she needed to make it to the distant shore.

She looked warily back at the water behind her and noticed, with disgusted shock, that it was pink. Pink with the otter's blood and pink with her own. She was growing weaker, she knew that, and she had to get out of this water before the pike got her and before the Nameless One got a boat and fished her out. She had to. Thanks to the Nameless One's error she had a chance to be free and she planned to stay free. She would come back, yes, and kill the Nameless One if she found the desire, but…later. Later…yes…later, when she could move better then this. Later, when she possessed the ability to walk.

She was currently able to see the beginnings of the shore, but her strength was nearly out, and she tired from hunger and bloodless. Even her ever-smoldering anger was quieting as her tried muscles asked her over and over why she couldn't just give up, slip beneath the surface, and drown, letting it all just disappear. She almost did, twice, but each time she fought her way back to the surface and continued her slow, draining, swim to the shore which seemed to be moving away, faster and faster, no matter how steadily she swam.

Suddenly a pike swam by and Redsplash felt one of its fins brush against her nearly unprotected stomach. She was dead. The thought occurred to her and was immediately rejected. She was not dead yet and she'd be damned if she was going to let a stupid fish kill her after all this. It would be an unbearable blow to her pride.

A sharp pain in her broken right leg announced that the fish had taken a small bite out of the limb. Fortunately, in some sick way, her right leg already burned as if it was in this own personal fire, and the pain from the bite only blended with the more serious pain. She scowled and swam faster, her energy draining so fast it was amazing.

The pike continued its attack, though it seemed more interested in tormenting her than doing any actual damage as she continued her dogged attempt at getting to the nearing shore. She could stand up comfortably in the water, or could have if her legs were not broken, when the other pike struck. The two of them each grabbed a leg, as if they had plotted this all out before attacking, and began propelling backwards, dragging her back into the deeper water.

"No…" Redsplash protesting quietly, reaching out forlornly for the shore that she could have, even if she was still starved and cut, jumped to…if her legs worked. "No…" she said and felt tears, for the first time in several seasons, prickle the back of her eyelids.

The pike dragged her backwards and suddenly something flashed through her mind. She always thought of it as a vision caused by panic afterwards, but could never truly believe herself. A warrior mouse was suddenly standing on the shore and she feared him because he was obviously a warrior of good and she…well she was Redsplash, and fought for herself. He had this marvelous sword, which Redsplash would have loved to steal, in his paws as he stared at her ominously, "Redsplash." He said, his voice booming oddly.

Redsplash lifted her bloody face towards him as she started to struggle weakly against the pikes attempts to drag her into the deeps. She did not respond, couldn't, but stared up at him in awe, fear, and a weary resignation that, if she had seen in her own eyes, would have angered her enough for her to grab hold of her throat and throttle herself. Redsplash never gave up. Never.

"You cannot die here." The mouse said, "You have important things to do."

"I'm not dragging myself down, you know." Redsplash muttered weakly, but fought harder, reopening cuts that had half scabbed over and unleashing more blood into the already pink water.

"Fight!" The mouse yelled, "Or was that ferret on the cliff right about you? Dead bodies burn nicely, Redsplash, you know that. What would your mother think?"

Redsplash actually wondered if it were possible for her blood to boil, because if it weren't then something very odd was happening. She screamed in anger, hating the memories this mouse had dared to resurrect, hating him for giving them the power to bring themselves back, and swam towards the surface with strength pulled from the deep reserves hidden somewhere deep inside her, dragging the stunned pike with her towards the shore as she screamed her rage at the mouse that had dared insult her family by staining them with the memory of her failure.

She kicked her broken legs, ripped open the few still-sealed cuts, and roared her furious hate until her voice was nearly nothing and made it to a paw's length away from shore. But it was too much, even for her violent hatred. The pain, the hunger, and the total lack of any energy left made it impossible for her to take one more broken step to the shore where the smirking mouse waited. She collapsed, the pike beginning to drag her back, away from the shallows, and she was unable to even lift a paw to stop it.

And then a strong paw reached down, grabbed one of her own, weak, drenched ones, and dragged her onto the shore. The pike, terrified of being out of water, flopped around until they managed to jump back into the water and Redsplash lay bleeding and panting on the sandy shore.

"Never forget, Redsplash," came the mouse's voice, now distant, "sometimes you must hurt your friends to keep them whole." Redsplash wouldn't have thanked the mouse for saving her life even if she could, it was not her way.

She looked around, knowing she'd have to move or the ferret would find her. The Nameless One would use all his power to track her down and bring her back, because he needed information she didn't have.

She spotted a nearby stream and pulled herself towards it. She knew this area very, very well. It had once been her home. Redsplash immediately banished all thoughts of her once home out of her mind and pulled herself, by the thick, strong, grass, towards the nearby stream, jaw set in determination. She was leaving a bloody trail, but that was all right. As long as she could get in the water she would be fine. Or, at least, that's what her half-crazed mind told her as it fought to keep itself awake, fought against all the pain that threatened to kill her at any second.

Finally she was close to the stream and she fell into it and sunk to the bottom. She stared tiredly up at the surface, wondering where she was going to summon the energy to get to the top this time. The water was running pink but she couldn't understand why, as her fatigued mind began to shut itself down, not able to take the pain any longer. She lifted one paw weakly towards the surface and then let it drop, a weak protest at a fate she couldn't fight. But then something settled over her that she felt all the time but rarely recognized: self-loathing. Immediately she felt the annoyance at herself descend over her and felt her broken legs suddenly tense and spring her to the surface, unable to let herself die like that, deeply disgusted at her own weakness.

And all of this was really beginning to make her wonder if it was all worth it.

She floated on the surface, the only thing she had the energy left to do right now. The next week or so was a haze, and she only remembered being fished out of the creek by a fox and sold, as a slave, somewhere. She was too weak to even open her eyes, let alone fight back or protest.

It was too much, all this pain and the sudden gaining and then losing of freedom. It hurt her in her heart and she wasn't used to fighting that type of pain, so she just floated somewhere between life and death, turned away from the Dark Forest's Gates every time she appeared before them by a warrior mouse that seemed to get less and less angry and more and more worried each time she showed up battered, bleeding, and weak.

…

When Redsplash first woke everything seemed to be drenched in blood and twitching oddly. She could not focus on any one thing, because everything seemed to be trying to move away from her eyesight, as if her stare burned them. She felt something brush her forehead and recognized only after what seemed an entire lifetime that it was cold. With a moan of protest she reached for it, trying to shrug it off, but could not move her arm. She tried to lift her neck, or shake her head but couldn't seem to remember how that was supposed to work.

Dark browns and a shocking slash of white moved across her vision, followed by a glowing green. Redsplash gaped up at the colors as they, in contrast with the moving landscape behind them, stayed still. Sounds, almost recognizable as words, flowed past her. She spoke, but could not hear what it was she said, and, also, did not think the words made it past her mouth. If they did, whatever it was that had spoken to her did not respond except for a single syllable that washed over her. Redsplash blinked her eyes, and felt something deep and heavy reach up, and she let herself slowly sink back to sleep.

…

The next time she came to consciousness, it was because she was burning. It felt like a thousand tiny blue fires were personally scorching every single inch of skin. Her eyes were boiling, her mouth completely dry, and something was over her, pulling her down, adding to the strange feeling of complete panicking fatigue. With a small, angry sound that tore at her throat, Redsplash yanked whatever it was off of her. Her eyes managed to focus on the dark gray blanket as it went flying across whatever room she was in.

"Awake, are we?" Inquired an unfamiliar voice, the owner of which Redsplash couldn't spot. "You've been really sick, you know. Out for nearing half a season."

Surprised by this, Redsplash tried to sit up, to object, to do something, but could not find the energy to even blink her wide eyes closed. An amused snort announced the speaker's feelings, and something cold and tasteless was rolling down her throat. Redsplash choked, rolled, and twitched, which was met with an outright laugh. Annoyed by this mocking behavior, Redsplash swallowed quickly and tried again to locate whoever it was that was near her. Instead, she only felt a strangely powerful urge to sleep.

"Confused? Well. Don't worry. It's just water…with a bit of medicine in it to help you sleep."

Redsplash felt a brief surge of anger, black coloring in a pool of light blue, before slipping underneath the surface and blacking out.

…

When Redsplash finally woke up with full control, she murmured feebly and yanked weakly on the chains that were locked around her wrists. Chains. Her tormented mind snapped awake and she sat up, mouth open in a soundless scream of disbelief. No! She couldn't be back in the Nameless One's castle! NO!

"Calm down, otter." Said a voice, with a slight northern accent.

Redsplash twitched violently and yanked at the chains feebly before falling back to the cold metal table she was chained to. She closed her eyes and wondered what tortures the Nameless One had planned this time.

"Where am I?" She asked, surprised by the fragility in her voice.

"I think I should ask the questions, if you don't mind too much." The voice said, sounding slightly amused. "What's your name?"

"What's yours?" Redsplash returned quickly.

This was followed by silence then, "Answer the question, otter. I don't like having my questions being thrown back at me."

"Well, you'd best prepare yourself for disappointment." Redsplash snapped and began checking to see what all worked. She clenched her paws and then unclenched them, surprised at the fact that it didn't hurt much, just a little sore. She tired, carefully, lifting one leg and then bending it at the knee and was surprised when her legs didn't move at all. In fact, they felt like they were wrapped in something. "What's on my legs?" She demanded coldly. Her energy and anger was back, thankfully, and she could be defiant again.

"Splints, but you won't need them much longer. Your legs are almost healed. They'll scar, by the way. They were badly infected." The voice replied, "You were incredibly well beaten when we got you."

Redsplash rolled her eyes and completed the sentence, "Back."

"What?"

"Back. When you got me back." Redsplash said, getting annoyed.

"No." The voice said, "When we got you."

"Back." Redsplash said, once again.

A faint growl of annoyance was audible and caused Redsplash to freeze. Ferrets didn't growl like that. Foxes didn't growl like that. Rats, weasels, and stoats didn't growl like that. Even the one wolf she'd heard didn't growl like this. She hadn't heard a growl like that before but she was pretty much certain it didn't come form a mouse or any other relatively weak creature. That left badger and wildcat. Of the two she'd take a badger. Badgers, as a rule, didn't go around murdering otters.

"What are you?" Redsplash said softly.

There was a pause then light filled the room and Redsplash looked around until she saw who she had been talking too. The wildcat was gigantic. He was easily three times her size and his arms were about the size of her head, which wasn't at all reassuring; she had a pretty big head. His claws were half out and dyed red…or, at least, Redsplash hoped that was dye. She wasn't exactly afraid of the wildcat, but she was most definitely not happy to see him.

"Oh." Redsplash said, then, "When'd you arrive?"

"Arrive where?"

"In the Nameless One's castle."

"Ah. You came from his place. I was wondering."

"Whatever you're trying to tell me, I'm not going to believe it." Redsplash said. She would rather accept she was back at the Nameless One's castle then be told she'd been captured by another evil warlord.

"You still think you're at the Nameless One's castle, don't you?" the wildcat said, looking amused.

"I am." Redsplash said.

The wildcat smirked and moved forward, snapping the chains that kept her to the smooth metal platform easily. Chains that were huge and solid. Chains that could have held twenty Redsplashs easy. Before she could bolt for the door, he gripped her by the back of the neck, lifted, and began walking along easily, carrying her about foot above the ground.

"Eh." Redsplash said, unable to really say anything else, and kicked him solidly in the stomach.

He never broke stride but kept walking, as if he hadn't even felt her kick. "Eh." Redsplash repeated and kicked him again.

"Stop speaking." The wildcat said, once again ignoring her kicks.

"Eh, eh, eh." Redsplash responded and kicked him three times.

He shook her once and Redsplash suddenly realized how easy it would be to break her neck. She gave him one more solid kick muttered, "Eh." Once more, but under her breath, and then said and did nothing.

Suddenly she was set down somewhere where she could feel the wind and where it was incredibly cold. Redsplash whirled, moving before she could think. Wind meant outside. Outside meant she might be able to get away. This thought was quiet effectively killed, however, when she realized she was on a balcony about six stories up. She looked around in wonder and realized she was nowhere near the comfortable warmth of the west; she was somewhere far, far, north. Snow, though it was only fall, blanketed the place and Redsplash's teeth started chattering immediately. She was not used to anything resembling cold.

The wildcat looked at her, darkly amused by her bewilderment, "As you can see," he said, "this isn't the Nameless One's domain."

Redsplash paused, something close to fear boiling deep in her stomach as she recalled the only tribe of wildcats she'd ever heard of that lived in the north. "Who are you?"

"Who are you?"

"Redsplash." Redsplash said, too worried about self-preservation to play the games she normally excelled at. "Who are you?"

"Darkclaw Warheart." The wildcat said and Redsplash's worries were confirmed. Without another thought she lunged at the rail of the balcony, reached it, and then jumped over the railing and towards the ground.

Suddenly she was caught, once again by the back of her neck, and pulled back up onto the balcony. "You're not a bird. Don't try to fly again." The wildcat growled, holding Redsplash by the scruff of the neck as he walked out of the balcony and back into the first room and then closing the door. This time though Redsplash didn't just kick, she struggled. She was strong for an otter and she could tell that though she wasn't able to get free or seriously injure the wildcat, she was annoying him at least.

"I see you know my last name." The wildcat observed as he kicked the heavy door closed and leaned against it.

"Yes." Redsplash snapped, baring her teeth in a snarl. It felt good to be defiant again, even if she was in as bad a situation as she had been in the Nameless One's castle.

He stared at her, as if looking for fear and then shrugged, "Well, you were not bought to be eaten."

Redsplash relaxed momentarily then tensed again, "Then why?"

The Warheart wildcats ate everything from mice to badgers…though they only killed badger when something extremely important had happened, such as the death of a king that had reached past a hundred seasons. Warheart wildcats respected badgers, though the respect was rarely mutual. Wolves were the only thing excluded from the menu, and only then because the first Warheart, a pitch black wildcat from a distant land, would have died if not saved by a pack of wolves.

He shrugged, "We heard of an otter slave that broke free from one of an ally's fortress over in the south. We have since found that it wasn't you."

"How do you know?" If the wildcat thought she was an escaped slave from the south he would either have to take her back there or one of the wildcats from the south would have to come get her, which, either way, meant she would be traveling over land. And travel over land allowed for a chance of escape.

He looked at her, amused, "For one, you're not as strong as this one is supposed to be."

Redsplash, offended at the way he'd implied she was weak, bared her teeth and growled, "Give me a dagger and I'll show you how weak I am."

"All right." The wildcat remarked agreeably and tossed her a large dagger from its sheath at his belt.

Redsplash caught it and stared dumbly down at it. "Well…uh…that's not what I expected." She looked doubtfully up at the wildcat whose grin was entirely too amused, "What's the trick?"

He shrugged and Redsplash's frown deepened. She held the dagger up closer to her face, trying to read the symbols inscribed on the blade, when she heard a faint clicking noise that was growing more urgent every second. With a yelp she dropped the blade and a second later twin blades snapped out of the hilt. If Redsplash had still been holding that she wouldn't have a paw anymore.

She glared at the wildcat who looked ready to start laughing any second now. "Charming little trick there." Redsplash snapped and picked up the dagger, carefully, by its blade, looking at the two knives that were now resetting themselves in the hilt. She noticed the liquid on the blades and scowled at him. "You poisoned them, too?"

When he spoke, he seemed to be losing the battle to not laugh, "Yes. If that poison had gotten into your blood you'd have spent days screaming before you died."

"Lovely." Redsplash snapped and threw the dagger like a throwing knife. She'd once been an expert knife thrower, long ago, and though her skills were rusty, she was still good.

The wildcat's reflexes were better though, and he dodged nimbly to the side while the dagger imbedded itself into soft wood of the wall where his head had been only second ago. He glanced at the dagger, then at Redsplash, and then laughed. It wasn't a loud laugh, but it was incredibly mocking and Redsplash did not like being mocked. At the moment she'd have sold what was left of her soul if she could have the splints off her legs so she could lunge at the wildcat and dig his eyes out.

The wildcat smirked at her after her finished laughing and turned towards the door. "Well, little otter, I'll see you soon. I must figure out how you got loose from the Nameless One."

Redsplash snarled and bared her teeth, "I'll die before I go back there."

His amusement was obvious as he opened the door and answered. "Don't tempt me to send you back. I haven't liked the Nameless One ever since he arrived on these shores, but it would be more amusing to watch you try to kill yourself than to taunt the Nameless one with an escaped slave."

Redsplash scowled as he slammed the door shut and then locked it, leaving her in a small room with nothing to do but wait. She had nothing to fight with and didn't want to think so she sat on the cold floor, leaning against the door, and closed her eyes. She might as well sleep. She didn't want to think about the wildcat, because she knew that if she had the kind of power he did she'd probably think exactly like him and find her pathetic attempts at bravado and defiance as immensely amusing as he had seemed too.

…

((Hey, kids, the saga continues. Edited chapter two. And only about six months after I edited chapter one! Wow. You don't usually see that kind of progress from me.))