Autumn thoroughly had Mossflower country within its grasp. The hot summer sun that would lounge in the sky for hours was reluctantly leaving earlier and earlier to the relief of all those caught in her rays. The land had begun to cool, and with it came great change. The verdant rolling hills and forests with their shades of green had slowly but surely transformed into a collage of greens, reds, oranges, yellows, and browns. The hot and stuffy air became crisp and easier to live and work in. The air carried the scent of fall, which was accentuated with the freshly fallen leaves carpeting the forest floor and wild squash, wheat, and fruits ripe for the picking. To the north, some of the mountains already had snow on their peaks. On a clear night while the moon was high the colors of the forest created a hauntingly beautiful setting for an escape.

At the foothills of the northern mountains, camp a vermin horde. Dozens of fires circle the camp and lighten the dark banners which are hung proudly around the camp. The banner is all black but with a large white badger's skull painted in the center and four red stripes like talons tearing through it. Many hundreds of tents lay scattered on the plain, drawing closer to the center of the camp lie larger and more vibrant tents. Each tent was colored in the same black, white, and red and ordained in the spoils of war. In the center of the camp sticking out like a mountain from the sea lies the tent of Zidar the Mauler. At the tent, a hooded creature addresses a large white rat.

"Marrow," the hooded beast hisses, "Seabane and several others including one of the healers have just deserted. Master wants you to retrieve them…" Her words, in a hushed tone, fell heavy into the night "Master wants you to bring Seabane and the healer back. You may kill the rest of them, but he wants to make an example of these … traitors." The albino rat nodded in understanding. "If you fail to return them, Master will then make an example out of you, and I know many in the horde would like to see that." The cloaked figure added. She seemed to smile at the albino as she added the last part. Again, the albino nodded in understanding. "Now go!" she barked. "They headed south into the wood. Knowing who is with them they should not have gotten very far." And with that, the large albino turned on his heel and began sprinting through the camp towards the deserters.

A mile or so away the deserters were hurriedly making pace away from the vermin camp. "We would 'ave been long into Mossflower if we didn't have to wait for our stupid seer to pack up all her filth!" an angry voice shot to the fleeing vermin.

"Shut your trap Muckfur! we would be moving faster if yar scrawny legs could keep pace!" An angry female voice shot back. "Besides my tonics, an salves are much mor-"

"Quiet!" came ordered a beast in the rear. And the bickering stopped.

"How much farther?" Pleaded an overburdened vermin from the front of the line.

"We need to put distance between the horde." Came from the voice in the rear. "If we stop yar littluns will be torn to shreds, so keep moving ya mangy runt!" The voice emphasized the last part so that there would be no more questions from the band. A pitiful groan of understanding was the only response.

Three hours later the band of vermin paused to catch their breath and replenish from a river they had just crossed. The band had traveled far too many miles for them to count in the dark of night. Not that counting the distance had been the first thing on any of their minds. Seabane had forced them to leave far earlier than any beast was prepared for, and their escape was not as smooth as they would have liked. Desertion of any kind was strictly prohibited and often punishable by death. Zidar the Mauler personally saw to the punishments himself. As any beast could guess his name came from his viciousness to his foes, whether they be woodlander or vermin. He has been known to tear his opponent's limb from limb while they attempt to cut him down or beg for his mercy. His preferred tool is a pair of gauntlets modified with the claws of a large mole Zidar slaughtered when he was barely eight seasons old. It was claimed that Zidar ripped the mole's arms off and used his claws to cut down almost a score of woodlanders, not that anyone lived to tell the tale. Seabane shuddered at the thought of being captured.

Seabane stood at the top of the riverbank and watched his fellow deserters. The canopy above them shielded them from moonlight which reflected off the calm river like a silver bowl on a table of black satin. Seabane was a tall male rat with short fur the color of toasted walnut. He wore a buttoned-up maroon vest and with green trimming, his simple belt held up his dirty yellow trousers and kept cutlass to his hip. His arms were lean and muscular and wore the scars and tattoos that told the stories of his time as a slaver on the ship "The Damnation". He had been captured by slavers when he was but a couple of seasons old and gave him a choice to join the crew or join the slaves, he chose the latter. He spent most of his life on that ship. He had always hated it. Not the slaving, pillaging, and murder, he was content with all that, no Seabane hated life on the sea. He never liked being surrounded by water and was always getting seasick. His crewmates thought that a sea rat hating life at sea was hilarious, and got tired of his constant complaining, so they gifted him his name: Seabane. It had stuck with him ever since. The one positive that came from his past life as a slaver was his skills with the cutlass. His cutlass was slightly shorter than the length of his arm and the silvery grey steel had a slight curve to it which ended in a sharp point at the end. The pommel and hilt were of simple design but provided his sword paw with excellent protection. Seabane cared for his cutlass as if it were his babe, as it had saved him countless times.

After his escape from The Damnation, Seabane had shortly traveled through northern Mossflower before meeting Zidars horde. He once more was given a choice to join or die, once more he joined. He had bested some of Zidars officers in blade-to-blade combat which had impressed the horde and Zidar personally offered Seabane a position as an officer. He would have accepted if it didn't mean meeting with Zidar more frequently. Seabane declined, lying that he wasn't very good at planning and enjoyed the bloodlust of fighting on the frontlines instead of commanding from the rear. Zidar knowingly smiled and told him that he would get his wish. Seabane had been forced to join a poor score of vermin under the command of an incompetent Lieutenant named Bileguts. His skill with the cutlass had saved him from skirmish after skirmish, but more times than not he found himself fleeing with whatever remained of his comrades. It was one thing to raid the occasional band of squirrels and mice that lived in the area, but they continued to run into otter troops and the Long Patrol. Most of his comrades had no experience in a real fight and stood no chance against seasoned warriors, but somehow, he always made it out alive. He was worried that his luck was running out.

Seabane laid his forepaw on the hilt of his sword. Most of the vermin were on their backs trying to catch their breath or gulping down the cool river water. The only one who was standing was the young ferret seer Sathe. She wore the same as all the other seers in Zidars horde, a black robe with a pouch sewn on her hip to store various herbs and medicines, and a hood that covered all but the tips of her nose and whiskers. She was tending to one of Crooksnout and Silvertoung's young who had woken up on the journey. Keeping the children asleep was a necessity as they couldn't have any distractions to slow them down or give away their location. Seabane could tell that Sathe was furious with the weasel parents for bringing their young along with them.

Sathe was one of the seers that assisted Zidars officers in decision-making and planning. However, she was the youngest of the seers and was given undesirable roles such as healing the sick and being entertainment for the officers. Sathe took pride in being a seer and saw being tasked with healing the various aches and pains of the common rabble, along with being daily amusement for the officers as an affront. Sathe tended to snap at everyone she interacted with, save Zidar and his officers, and took pleasure in mocking those who came to her looking for relief for what she deemed as "minor."

Seabane didn't care for the mysterious roles that seers play in seeing the outcome of battles, their potion-making, or whatever else they may do. All he cared about was that Sathe could heal the wounded and that she was good at it. He had seen her save many of his comrade's lives after being attacked by the woodlanders and he was impressed enough to risk asking Sathe to join him and the others. Seabane knew of Sathe's discontentment, and he needed a healer if the band of vermin was going to start again on their own. Sathe loathed being the designated healer/entertainment for the horde but was hesitant in leaving due to the thought of being captured. Seabane told Sathe of his plans, then lied and told her that if captured her punishment would be less than the others. Because as Seabane said, "Zidar can afford to lose a few horde beasts, he can lose a talented seer." That was good enough for her and she agreed.

As Sathe begrudgingly made a solution to put the awake weasel kit to sleep Seabane wondered to himself how and why some beast became a seer. The mysterious beasts tended to act like the morning mist, appearing and then quickly vanishing, hating to be in the public's eyes. They saw themselves as much higher than the common vermin and didn't hesitate to let all know, which is something that got on every beast's nerves. He hoped that Sathe's pride wouldn't be too much of an issue to deal with. They already have enough to worry about.

Seabane heard a splashing sound and tightened his grip on his cutlass. Turning towards the river he could see the outline of Muckfur, Bloodclaw, and Herrik the mad, greedily downing the water at the river's edge. Bloodclaw and Herrik kneeled in the water soothing their travel-weary paws, dunking their heads in to quell their thirst and calm their nerves. Muckfur kneeled carefully on the river's edge, cupping his paws together and lifting handfuls of water to his dry lips.

Muckfur was a small dark-furred weasel. He was a good sleuth and could move virtually undetected even on nights when the moon was full. In addition, he was great at trapping small game so he would be a necessity to the crew if they were to live off the land as Seabane hoped. He wore green trousers and carried a dirk at his waist which he effectively used to slide between unsuspecting foes' ribs. He had gone back into the camp after most of the deserters left to retrieve Sathe who was taking far longer to leave. In addition, Muckfur had also gone back to kill Bileguts, the stoat Lieutenant who had been tormenting Muckfur ever since he joined Zidars horde. Muckfur had proudly announced his revenge once he and Sathe had joined the deserters outside the camp. Seabane would try to remember to throttle Muckfur if they escaped for being a fool! They needed to escape undetected, and a dead Officer was something that warranted attention. One thing about Muckfur is that he does an excellent job of getting under every beast's fur. He did this exceptionally well with beasts that have a higher sense of purpose, such as Sathe. Muckfur had made plenty of enemies within the horde so when the offer to leave presented itself with Seabane he gleefully took it.

Bloodclaw was a young red fox. He wore a green and black checkered kilt and a green rough spun tunic which was the same color as his eyes. Bloodclaw was barely old enough to join in on raids and smaller than his fox counterparts but boasted that with his ax he would "cleave the heads off all the flea-bitten woodlanders!" On his first raid, an otter hit him with his rudder which threw him into a tree and knocked him out cold. He affectionately earned the name Ruddy from that experience. In the next raid, Ruddy happened to be with Seabane going after the same otter troop that knocked him out. The vermin attackers had caught the otters preparing to camp for the night and fell on them. However, due to the general incompetence of their leadership and the resilience of the otters, the surprise attack began to quickly fall apart. Through the chaos of the retreat, Seabane spotted Ruddy rooted to the ground in terror as he watched an otter spearman pin two of their comrades to a tree. After cleaving the pined vermin's heads off with his sword, the otter turned to dispatch Ruddy. The sight of a gore-splattered beast mad with bloodlust was more than enough to paralyze the young fox. Seabane could see the tears well up in Ruddy's eyes and the look of horror on his face as the otter charged him. He would have joined his comrades in the Dark Forest if Seabane didn't pull him out of the path of the killing blow and dragged him all the way back to the camp. Ruddy furiously claimed that he didn't need any help and that he would have avenged their fallen comrades, but he never strayed too far from Seabane after that. Seabane enjoyed Ruddy's company, he liked to tease the young fox about his inexperience, and it was always fun seeing him all worked up. When Seabane asked Ruddy if he wanted to leave with him, the fox immediately said yes.

Seabane quietly to himself as he surveyed the ragged group below him. Then addressed the vermin with authority. "We need to keep moving, they've must have noticed we've been gone by now."

"We've gone far enough. Let's rest and go before dawn." Said Bloodclaw. The soaking wet fox looked exhausted.

"They'd caught us by now with all za ruckus that our healer made leavin'" chided Muckfur, ignoring a hateful glare from Sathe. " 'cides Silvertoungs cut 'er paw trying to carry the young'uns across the rocks."

Seabane looked at Silvertoung. At first glance, you couldn't see the blood pooling around the mother weasels right foot paw but then again in the darkness you couldn't see much of anything. Sathe had applied dry moss to the wound to soak up the blood and tied a torn piece of cloth around it to keep the pressure on the wound. The bandage was already becoming soaked through.

Sathe started, "If we didn't 'ave these kits to burden us down then maybe we'd be south of Redwall by now!" Silvertoung glared venomously at Sathe.

"If we knew we were leaving before dinner we might have had more time to prepare." Retorted Crooksnout. "This feelin' of doom you have Seabane better not be gettin' us killed."

Seabane stared disappointingly at Crooksnout. Crooksnout was a weasel with crimson fur who stood slightly smaller than Seabane. He had a sword strung to his hip and wore a long-sleeved undershirt and a brown vest overtop. He had a tattoo on his right paw which matched with his mate Silvertoung. The two looked very similar in fact, their fur color, eyes, and tattoos matched. The biggest difference was that Silvertoung wore a rough green full body skirt, and her nose wasn't set at the awkward angle that her mates was. Crooksnout was the first vermin Seabane had befriended (as far as vermin could befriend) when he first joined the horde. Originally from a vermin tribe that Zidar had forced to join his horde, Seabane trusted the weasel enough to tell him about his premonitions of impending doom. Crooksnout was the first vermin Seabane wanted to join him in deserting the horde, but he was adamant in bringing his mate and young along. Seabane wasn't excited about the three weasel kits escaping with them, but he was desperate to leave and needed to have someone trusted by his side.

The weasel's teal eyes bore into him as he continued. "Silvertoung can barely walk so someone's gonna have to carry the littluns."

"Ruddy 'ill do it," Seabane stated.

"Why me!?" Responded Bloodclaw with a sour look on his face. "And don't call me Ruddy!" the fox's pride was hurt.

"Because you're the youngest and can take the extra weight… and because I said so."

Bloodclaw was going to express his displeasure but before he could Herrik shouted in a panic "Footsteps! Footsteps! Footsteps! Fast! Fast! Fa-"

"Quiet!" demanded Seabane and they were silent. It looked like Herrik had been useful after all.

Herrik the mad was just that, mad. The stoat could always be found in some corner of camp wringing his paws and chattering to himself about ridding his pain. His shaggy cream-colored fur was covered in scars and his two forepaws looked like they had been torn apart and put back together. Older horde beasts say that he was crazy when he first joined Zidars horde but when he first saw Zidar, he lunged at him and tried to tear his throat out thinking that he was a badger. Herrik quickly realized that was not the case and tried to beg for forgiveness, stating what he thought he had seen. Zidar was amused by this. He let Herrik know of his amusement, while he tore open with his back with his claws. Zidar also promised to let Herrik the first shot at a badger when they met one. That seemed to shake the stoat to the grave. Herrik had made many enemies in the horde due to his antics. He followed Seabane around like a lost young'un because he treated Herrick slightly less animosity than Sathe. Slightly. Seabane didn't want Herrik to come along with them as he already would have enough fighting between Sathe and Muckfur. But Seabane felt pity for the poor stoat, and Herrik had good hearing which is how he overheard of the plan to escape.

All the vermin got low and strained to hear some beast moving through the forest. Those who were in the river moved to the bank and the darkness that protected them. They heard nothing for a minute. And then waited for another. And before Seabane could tell them it was clear a hulking white form shot out from the other side of the bank, hovered in the air for a split second, and then crashed into the water below. The white form began quickly moving towards them from under the water. Picking up speed and strength until it looked like a rogue wave was approaching them.

"Run!" shouted Seabane and the vermin dashed up the riverbank and into the trees.

"Follow me!" Seabane half-shouted behind him. Seabane began to panic. How could they have caught up so quickly? He had to escape! He couldn't go back! There was no other option but death! He had seen how Zidar and his officer had ravaged vermin who fled from battle. He would be sure that he would be torn apart by Zidar in front of the whole camp! He must escape! He had to! He felt the stinging of branches hitting his face as he ran. He was hoping that whoever Zidar had sent to apprehend them was busy dealing with one of the vermin behind him which gave him time to flee. His lungs were on fire and his legs felt like were made of iron. He looked behind him and he saw the scared faces of all but Bloodclaw and Silvertoung. When he spun his head around, he saw a flash of white and then ran full force into it. Seabane bounced backwards and straight into Muckfur and collapsed in a heap. The two vermin lie dazed and tangled on the ground. When Seabane regained his senses, he looked up into the piercing red eyes of Marrow.

Seabane's mouth was agape. He heard a whimper from Sathe and a cry from Herrik. The hulking white mass of Marrow stood looming over top of him. The white rat dwarfed every one of the deserters by at least a head. His muscular chest was scattered with scars from his many victories, and his grey trousers barely went to the length of his knees and were held up with a simple cord of rope. Tucked into his waistband was a singlehanded war hammer. The insignia of Zidar the Mauler was tattooed on his back. Under both of his arms, he held Bloodclaw and Silvertoung white with fear.

Marrow was one of Zidars strongest warriors. Nearly unstoppable in battle Seabane had seen him tear through countless beasts with his hammer. He is best known in the horde for tearing off the door of a cottage where a joint force of Long Patrol hares and an otter troop was stationed. Slaughtering all but the two commanders, he returned to the horde with his two prisoners. After an interrogation, Zidar ordered Marrow to crush the heads of both the otter and hare in front of the whole horde. It was an awesome sight to behold. He reports directly to Zidar the Mauler himself and he was personally sent to kill the deserters.

Seabane was terrified. He couldn't move his eyes away from the white rat. The beast never spoke as far as any were aware of. His actions spoke for themselves. He was a monster, and one of Zidar's best. None of them were getting out of this alive.

"Put her down!" It was Crooksnout. His voice was shaky and strained. Seabane turned his head to see the stoat had put the two kits he had been carrying down and drew his sword trying to put up an air of confidence. His sword shook in his trembling paw. For as long as Seabane had known him the weasel had always been a terrible swordsman. His singular talent was with the lute. He knew the weasel family would slow their escape, but it was just Seabane's luck to find the one vermin father that cares about his kin. Too bad it would get him killed.

To the surprise of the vermin, Marrow gently placed Bloodclaw and Silvertoung down. Silvertoung quickly skittered over to hide behind her mate. Bloodclaw holding the other kit, lay completely still green eyes begging Seabane for help.

Seabane stammered, eyes wide and mouth agape. "W-Wh-What do you want? You can't stop us!" He hoped that he sounded somewhat confident, not that it mattered.

Marrow said nothing but moved his deadly glare from Seabane to the rest of the vermin. Seabane could feel the fear and hopelessness radiating from vermin as the eyes of Marrow passed over them.

When Marrow's eyes got to Sathe, he threw out his claw and pointed at her. The ferret maid collapsed in a sobbing heap and pleaded for forgiveness.

"Please, please, please have mercy on me! Tell Zidar I am his faithful servant, I was tricked! Please I don't want to die!" She wailed. Sathe knew she would not be spared.

He then jutted out his other claw at Seabane. Seabane thought he would die as well.

"Up." Said Marrow, although it was more of a grunt than a word. Seabane quickly did what he was told, Sathe was slower to follow.

With his claw still pointed at Seabane the white rat continued. "Leave. Horde." It was difficult to understand him.

Seabane didn't know how to respond. He couldn't lie to the rat as Marrow clearly knew of their plan but the truth would be a death sentence. Seabane just stood in silence moving his mouth trying to form something that would save them from death. Instead of saying anything he just nodded his head in shame.

With his eyes trained on Seabane the white rat pointed towards himself "Leave. Horde."

There was a pause. Again, Marrow repeated the guttural words gesturing towards himself.

"What?" Seabane stammered. Marrow was loyal to Zidar, right? He has the hordes emblem tattooed on his back. Why would he want to leave? They were well beyond what any horde hunting party could have traveled, so he had to be alone. Then the thought occurred to him. Marrow only wanted Sathe and Seabane, he would have killed the rest if he wanted to return to the horde. Bloodclaw and Silvertoung should have been dead, but Marrow spared them. What if he wanted to leave?

Before he could ask himself anything more, Crooksnout lunged towards Marrow.

"Die you monster!" The weasel shouted. Crooksnout had his sword raised above his head and was preparing to bring it down on the white rat.

As quick as a flash the white rat side stepped Crooksnout, stepping on Bloodclaw in the process. Crooksnout slashed down and contacted the dirt Marrow was standing on a split second ago. Before the weasel could react one of Marrow's claws grabbed the hilt of his sword and the other wrapped around the weasel's neck. Realizing his mistake Crooksnout released his grip on his sword and attempted to do what he had always done when an attack failed, beg for his life. As he opened his mouth to plea for forgiveness, the claw around his neck tightened and lifted him off the ground.

The chaos of the attack by Crooksnout jerked Seabane from his thoughts. He had to do something to save himself and his new crew from this monster. He just hoped that he wasn't crazy when he thought Marrow said he wanted to leave.

"Stop, that's enough!" Seabane shouted and freed his cutlass from its sheath. The steel shook slightly as he pointed it at the fighting vermin. Marrow stopped raising Crooksnout but kept his grip on the weasel who was now struggling for breath at eye level with the giant albino. He turned his head to look at the brown rat.

"Ya want to leave the horde with us?" Seabane asked praying that his ears weren't playing tricks on him.

Marrow nodded silently.

Seabane felt a wave of relief wash over him, but he still had to save his new crew.

"Then you will listen to me and do as I say. Drop the weasel."

Marrow released his grip on Crooksnouts neck, as he landed hard on his rear. Marrow kept his grasp on the sword and jerked it out of Crooksnouts claws. Crooksnouts eyes were wide and bleary as he gasped to regain his breath. His paws went to his throat to try and open his windpipe. Marrow stuck the sword into the ground in front of the sniveling weasel.

Seabane gained confidence. "Now get off the fox and throw me yer hammer."

Marrow did what he was told without emotion and tossed the hammer towards Seabane.

Seabane turned and motioned to Muckfur, who was lying where Seabane fell on him, to grab the hammer which lay at the brown rat's feet. After hesitating the dark-furred weasel scurried around Seabanes legs and collected the hammer, before returning to hide behind the brown rat.

Seabane relaxed but continued, "If ya lay a claw on any one of these beasts like ya just did to Crooksnout, I will cut you apart and leave yar gizzards to the crows!" He hoped he sounded threatening; he wasn't sure he could stop Marrow even if the giant rat was unarmed. Still pointing at Marrow, Seabane turned to the rest of the vermin and addressed them.

"Any beast who attempts to leave Zidars horde is no enemy of ours. He knows what happens if we get caught and yet he wishes to leave. We're all deserters now." His words hung in the air; the silent night engulfed them.

"An what iv he decides he wants to go back to the Zidar with all of us in tow? Then what?" Cried, Sathe. There was still fear in her eyes.

"He hasn't killed us yet, a-" Seabane started but was cut off by Silvertoung.

"Yet! Is that the best excuse you've got for us? First, you tell us to leave everything behind because you feel a wee bit of danger" The mother weasel was clutching her young with fiery tears in her eyes. "Then you drag us out here to be hunted down and killed. He's already strangled my mate an he'll do far worse to the rest of us!" Silvertoung sobbed.

"Horde is Dead."

Every beast's eyes whipped to Marrow. It was the clearest thing any of them had heard him say.

"Many Woodlander southwest. Badgerlord coming." For the first time in history Marrow looked scared.

Any mention of badgers chilled the vermin to their very being. To them, the Badgerlords of Salamandraston were unstoppable and bloodthirsty. Glistening in their armor no weapon could touch them, and they could kill you with a glance. Even Zidar the Mauler couldn't stand a chance against the armies of the Badgerlord.

"How do you know?"

Marrow gestured to his eyes and ears. "See. Hear."

A desolate silence fell over the vermin. It appeared that Seabane's premonition had been correct. He smiled, he liked being right even if it meant impending doom.

"Looks like none of us have a choice." Solemnly said Seabane. With a renewed vigor, "All of you on your feet, we're moving!"

The various vermin scrambled upright and collected their bearings. Bloodclaw quickly scampered towards Seabane.

"Are you sure we can trust him? He did just try to kill Silvertoung and me." Bloodclaw was still holding Crooksnouts young, more for his own protection than anything else.

"We're too far from the horde for him to have come with others… And if he meant to kill ya, all but Sathe n I'd be dead now." Seabane saw Bloodclaws scowl deepen and continued. "I think my hunch was right to leave when we did. If the badgerlord is heading north…" Seabane shook his head. "Then there isn't much to go back to."

"Do you think we might run into a badger?"

"No, of course not. They wouldn't bother with us" Seabane lied. "Besides, Ruddy he wouldn't kill ya he'd leave that to the Otters." Bloodclaw bared his teeth and turned to leave.

"Thanks for carrying Silvertoungs kit." The fox paused then walked to Crooksnout, who was still struggling to catch his breath.

Seabane approached marrow and sheathed his blade. He hadn't moved from when he threw his hammer to Seabane. Seabane stopped when he was less than an arm's length away and looked directly into the rat's red eyes. He put on his best commanding tone.

"If we even think yar gonna betray us I'll gut you like a fish!" He paused looking for an acknowledgment of understanding from the beast. "I'll hold on to your hammer until we trust ya, and yar gonna cover that tattoo on your back. Can't have you causing more attention than needed." Again, no response.

In a hushed voice so none but Marrow could hear, "How do you know the badgerlord is heading north?"

"Zidar." That was the only response.

Seabane sighed he didn't want to stay here any longer. He didn't know if he could trust Marrow, but his premonition saved him from death on The Damnation and if the badgerlord and his armies were heading north to destroy Zidars horde it might have just saved them all again. Whatever their fate maybe they had to keep moving south, and hopefully, they wouldn't run into any woodlanders or vermin who saw them as their enemies.

The vermin band with its new companion regained its bearings and then trudged southward into the dark of night.