6
Time dragged on, yet Shadow pushed on through the great Mossflower Woods. GrimpawÕs feet were aching and he didnÕt hesitate on complaining to his annoyed leader. ÔCÕmon Shadow, letÕs stop and rest awhile, me paws are killing me.Õ He wailed. ÔAnd thereÕs no use dragging these three fools along either. Why donÕt we just leave Ôem for the birds or use Ôem for target practice, what do you say?Õ He cast a scornful look at the three captives and then at his leader pleadingly. Shadow shook his head in annoyance. ÔLeave the prisoners alone, you fool.Õ He sneered. GrimpawÕs eyes narrowed into evil slits. He was not used to being adressed with disrespect. Shadow ignored him for his mind was elsewhere. If he wanted to get the treasure stashed away deep inside of Salamandastron he would need a powerful horde. He lost precious fighters in their last encounter and the raid on Stella was nearly a complete waste of time besides the thrill of killing innocent creatures. Either then that, there hadnÕt been a trace of decent fighters. At least they brought back a couple useless creatures to torture if they got bored.
Chains from the slaves shackles dragged on the floor as the trio walked reluctantly, frowns of misfortune plastered on their faces. In the lead was Crud, the searat who had been with the two wildcats since they murdered Prowler. Behind him was Friar Barnacle from the ruined village of Stella, and finally, bringing up the rear was the pretty ottermaid Sabrina. She, along with the friar, was badly bruised from getting the occasional kick from Grimpaw who wasnÕt very fond of her. Her face was barely recognizable from falling into the mud. The only place on her face which wasnÕt completely dirty were her cheeks where her tears had washed away some of the mud. Friar Barnacle was in similar shape. He limped along with his eyes rooted to the ground where he could avoid looking at Grimpaw in case he decided he had looked at him the wrong way. If he had, it would have earned him a couple of extra kicks in the gut. He, too, had been been crying and his fur stuck out at odd angles in wet strings which were mingled with mud. Crud who was marching in front wasnÕt doing any better then the other two, but was enjoying their company because he could bully them around a bit when the two wildcats werenÕt looking.
At this particular moment they happened to be paying attention to the road ahead, and Crud decided to test his newly found scrap of authority. Taking a last glance at the two killers ahead of him, he stuck out his footpaw. Friar Barnacle who wasnÕt paying attention to him, tripped on it and fell like a log with a heavy thud. Crud sniggered openly. ÔWhatch where youÕre going you stupid mouse or youÕll end up like youÕre old friends.Õ He moved his paw in a slicing motion in front of his neck. This was the last straw for Sabrina. She helped the friar up to his feet who silently nursed his jaw, and without warning she launched herself at the laughing Crud. Taken by surprise, the rat fell hard on his back with the ottermaid ontop of him knocking the wind out of his chest. She then began striking him angerly in the snout with her shackles until he squeeled with pain. ÔDonÕt ever pick on defenseless creatures again you heartless slimeball!Õ She punctuated each word with a blow to the ratÕs face.
ÔWhatÕs the hold up?Õ Shadow hissed, distracted from his thoughts. He moved toward the maid but Grimpaw got there first, not missing a chance to inflict pain on the prisoners. In a flash he roughly kicked Sabrina off of the unfortunate rat and lifted him above his head. Sensing that Grimpaw was out of control, Shadow kicked him aside and Crud fell on his chest, yelping in pain. ÔWhy did you do that you foolish girl?Õ He questioned, ignoring the scowling Grimpaw. Tears were now streaming openly down SabrinaÕs face. ÔHe started it.Õ She said, her voice hoarse. A smile played along ShadowÕs lips. ÔGet up. LetÕs move along.Õ He said, trying to sound as gentle as possible, and began walking again. Sabrina lifted herself up but didnÕt move from the spot. ÔIf he lays another foul claw on me or my friend IÕll strangle him with his own shackles and you canÕt stop me.Õ Shadow faltered and was about to turn around but ignored her threat and continued forward.
ÔYeh shouldnÕt have done that,Õ said Barnacle, still nursing his jaw. Ô ItÕs a flippinÕ miracle that youÕre still alive!Õ Wordlessly, the ottermaid continued walking alongside her friend. The unusual party continued marching all save for Grimpaw. He was fuming with anger. The angry wildcat vaulted up and drew one of his favorite knives. He licked it, testing the edge and lifted it as if to hurl it at ShadowÕs unprotected back. Nobody has ever treated Grimpaw like that, not even his leader. Taking a deep calming breath, he lowered the knife and placed it back in itÕs slot inside the mousefur vest. He dared not attack Shadow for he was no ordinary creature. A move like that and Grimpaw knew he would have been wormfood. He spat angerly and continued marching behind the black cat. One day. One day he would get him. Grimpaw smiled. He would bide his time. Without looking back, Shadow sensed that his messmate began thinking straight again and he let go of his sword hilt satisfied. It would have been a shame if he had to murder him on the spot.
Time dragged on, yet Shadow pushed on through the great Mossflower Woods. GrimpawÕs feet were aching and he didnÕt hesitate on complaining to his annoyed leader. ÔCÕmon Shadow, letÕs stop and rest awhile, me paws are killing me.Õ He wailed. ÔAnd thereÕs no use dragging these three fools along either. Why donÕt we just leave Ôem for the birds or use Ôem for target practice, what do you say?Õ He cast a scornful look at the three captives and then at his leader pleadingly. Shadow shook his head in annoyance. ÔLeave the prisoners alone, you fool.Õ He sneered. GrimpawÕs eyes narrowed into evil slits. He was not used to being adressed with disrespect. Shadow ignored him for his mind was elsewhere. If he wanted to get the treasure stashed away deep inside of Salamandastron he would need a powerful horde. He lost precious fighters in their last encounter and the raid on Stella was nearly a complete waste of time besides the thrill of killing innocent creatures. Either then that, there hadnÕt been a trace of decent fighters. At least they brought back a couple useless creatures to torture if they got bored.
Chains from the slaves shackles dragged on the floor as the trio walked reluctantly, frowns of misfortune plastered on their faces. In the lead was Crud, the searat who had been with the two wildcats since they murdered Prowler. Behind him was Friar Barnacle from the ruined village of Stella, and finally, bringing up the rear was the pretty ottermaid Sabrina. She, along with the friar, was badly bruised from getting the occasional kick from Grimpaw who wasnÕt very fond of her. Her face was barely recognizable from falling into the mud. The only place on her face which wasnÕt completely dirty were her cheeks where her tears had washed away some of the mud. Friar Barnacle was in similar shape. He limped along with his eyes rooted to the ground where he could avoid looking at Grimpaw in case he decided he had looked at him the wrong way. If he had, it would have earned him a couple of extra kicks in the gut. He, too, had been been crying and his fur stuck out at odd angles in wet strings which were mingled with mud. Crud who was marching in front wasnÕt doing any better then the other two, but was enjoying their company because he could bully them around a bit when the two wildcats werenÕt looking.
At this particular moment they happened to be paying attention to the road ahead, and Crud decided to test his newly found scrap of authority. Taking a last glance at the two killers ahead of him, he stuck out his footpaw. Friar Barnacle who wasnÕt paying attention to him, tripped on it and fell like a log with a heavy thud. Crud sniggered openly. ÔWhatch where youÕre going you stupid mouse or youÕll end up like youÕre old friends.Õ He moved his paw in a slicing motion in front of his neck. This was the last straw for Sabrina. She helped the friar up to his feet who silently nursed his jaw, and without warning she launched herself at the laughing Crud. Taken by surprise, the rat fell hard on his back with the ottermaid ontop of him knocking the wind out of his chest. She then began striking him angerly in the snout with her shackles until he squeeled with pain. ÔDonÕt ever pick on defenseless creatures again you heartless slimeball!Õ She punctuated each word with a blow to the ratÕs face.
ÔWhatÕs the hold up?Õ Shadow hissed, distracted from his thoughts. He moved toward the maid but Grimpaw got there first, not missing a chance to inflict pain on the prisoners. In a flash he roughly kicked Sabrina off of the unfortunate rat and lifted him above his head. Sensing that Grimpaw was out of control, Shadow kicked him aside and Crud fell on his chest, yelping in pain. ÔWhy did you do that you foolish girl?Õ He questioned, ignoring the scowling Grimpaw. Tears were now streaming openly down SabrinaÕs face. ÔHe started it.Õ She said, her voice hoarse. A smile played along ShadowÕs lips. ÔGet up. LetÕs move along.Õ He said, trying to sound as gentle as possible, and began walking again. Sabrina lifted herself up but didnÕt move from the spot. ÔIf he lays another foul claw on me or my friend IÕll strangle him with his own shackles and you canÕt stop me.Õ Shadow faltered and was about to turn around but ignored her threat and continued forward.
ÔYeh shouldnÕt have done that,Õ said Barnacle, still nursing his jaw. Ô ItÕs a flippinÕ miracle that youÕre still alive!Õ Wordlessly, the ottermaid continued walking alongside her friend. The unusual party continued marching all save for Grimpaw. He was fuming with anger. The angry wildcat vaulted up and drew one of his favorite knives. He licked it, testing the edge and lifted it as if to hurl it at ShadowÕs unprotected back. Nobody has ever treated Grimpaw like that, not even his leader. Taking a deep calming breath, he lowered the knife and placed it back in itÕs slot inside the mousefur vest. He dared not attack Shadow for he was no ordinary creature. A move like that and Grimpaw knew he would have been wormfood. He spat angerly and continued marching behind the black cat. One day. One day he would get him. Grimpaw smiled. He would bide his time. Without looking back, Shadow sensed that his messmate began thinking straight again and he let go of his sword hilt satisfied. It would have been a shame if he had to murder him on the spot.