"Eula, we have to be ready t'march in less than an hour and we haven't eaten! Hurry y'self UP!"
The pleas fell on deaf ears. Eula's paw ran lightly over a desk, a thick layer of dust being collected into a pile as she did so. She was in one of the dormitories in the living quarters of the mountain.
Hesitantly, she opened a drawer and rummaged through it. She extracted a brown-bound journal from within. She stood there silently for a few moments, staring at it. Almost wincing, she flipped it open, gazing at the inscription on the front inside cover.
Memories are deceiving. Your own words can't lie. -Nate Contarelle
Eula flipped through the pages, surprised to find the journal only half-full. She knew Nate had several, and he always filled them up. Then it occurred to her what that meant.
This is the journal he kept right before-
"Eulatia Kimmanae Contarelle! Come out THIS BALLY instant, or on m'life, I shall come in and DRAG YOU OUT BY YOUR EARS!"
Startled, Eula quickly slapped the booklet shut, turning abruptly to the door, where the handle was jiggling fiercely. She didn't even remember ever having locked it...
"All right, all right, keep your shirt on," Eula muttered, using her footpaw to close the drawer she had opened. Drawing her eyebrows together, she stared at the journal in her paws. Quickly making up her mind, she clutched it in her paws and headed for the door. No reason to let a perfectly good journal go to waste, right?
She met a very disgruntled Del outside the room. "Don't s'pose you could'a taken any longer, wot?"
"I'm sure I could've if I tried," Eula retorted. "And if you ever, Delphina Nasturtium Wilderfinch, use my full title again, I'm sorry t'say I'll be forced to kill you."
Del smirked, amused by the shared sense of humor the younger haremaid possessed with herself. "Point taken m'fine young quipster. What've you got there?"
Eula looked down at the journal in her arms and shook her head a bit. "Nothing important," which was code for 'None of your business.' Del took the hint. Eula swept a bow as she extended an arm down the hall, inviting Del to go first. "Age before beauty."
Del adopted an expression of mock insult. "I'm not so very much older'n you, wot!" She exclaimed, pushing Eula along between her shoulder blades.
Eula tilted her head back and grinned at Del as she was pushed along, having to get her last word in. "Then don't refer t'me as young when you're addressing me, old companion o' mine."
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Colonel Buttespur was pacing yet again before his loyal regiment, every sharp eye and every well-tuned ear fixed conclusively on his every word. Amongst the tension, there was a buzzing of unmistakable excitement.
This was what the Long Patrol was for. This is what all of them lived for... And what many died for...
He stopped, fixing his intense gaze on the Long Patrol. There was a long pause as he seemed to be sizing up every individual in the group. He nodded once. "I'll save my thematic monologue. Today, we march."
It seemed only seconds later in Eula's dizzied mind that the fighters were ordered to turn, and the side markers led the march to the northeast.
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It was dark when they made their evening camp. They were all given permission to set about somewhere in the open field they'd stopped at. There wasn't much worry about their location, as an ambush on the fighters was highly unlikely.
It had been a long, tedious day. All the first time campaigners were busy rubbing sore footpaws and resting stiff, overworked legs. Not a single one of them would dare confess their fatigue, and would sooner die than let an officer see any of sign of distress from them. After finishing a meager meal (in hare terms) many fell quickly to sleep on the cold ground.
Eula sat a bit apart from any others, trying to shake out the incessant sounds of the officers' voices in her head. She still heard their barking commands, their jibes to keep the company moving. Sitting sideways to a nearby crackling fire, she glanced about her and withdrew her newly acquired journal from her rations pack. She brushed a paw the cover before opening it. Before she could even finish reading the first sentence, a voice made her jump. As if she were doing something wrong, she snapped the journal shut and hid it behind her back.
The violet eyes glanced sharply up at the intruder. She immediately eased at the familiar sight of Thatcher's friendly smile. He squatted before Eula, lifting a brow at the younger hare. "And I find you all alone again," he speculated.
"Don't s'pose it ever occurred to you that I'd like to be alone?" She cheekily inquired.
"Nope, didn't occur to me." And with that, he surprised Eula be sitting down and making himself comfortable.
"So what'd y'shove 'hind your back when I came?"
With only a moment of hesitation, she withdrew the journal, showing Thatcher. "Oh, plenty o' chaps keep journals. Nothin' to be ashamed of."
"Oh, it's not mine!" Eula said quickly, as if wanting to dispel any notion that she'd keep a journal of her own.
"You're reading somebeast else's? Well, that, m'gel, would be wrong."
"It's my brother's."
"You stole your brother's journal?"
"I didn't steal it. I mean... I wouldn't... it's just..." She blinked, trying to wrap her tongue around what she was trying to say. "I mean -- he's dead..."
Thatcher bit his lip, feeling foolish. His brow creased in a frown. "Sorry," he mumbled, now looking off in a different direction.
Eula sighed. "Not your fault."
There was a long uncomfortable pause in which Eula sorely regretted mentioning her brother. This was always the reaction. Looking down at the journal in her paws for what seemed like endless minutes, she was relieved when Thatcher broke the silence.
"So what's your favorite color?"
Eula grinned appreciatively, setting the booklet on the ground beside her as she lazed back on her paws. "Green."
"That's funny. Same as mine..."
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Eula hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep when she was woken by a prodding at her side. Rolling over and not being able to contain a groan of exhaustion, she forced her eyes open to see Jamie standing beside her. He knelt, speaking softly.
"Eula.... Eula, wake up."
Propping herself up on her elbows, she realized it was still dark out. Only a thin sliver of light could be seen from the east.
"A group of vermin have been seen less than a league off. You've been assigned a run."
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A/N No excuses. Shame on me. Happy Holidays everyone! Please review!