Hey there! I finished Chapter 4 rather quickly, I have so many ideas! Thanks everyone again for all your great reviews, that's what keeps me writing!
Also, please ignore how horrible the names are in this fic. I suck at creating names.
December 31, 2004
Chapter 4
Martin blinked. How could Azalea know Grumm? I thought Grumm lived his entire life in Noonvale, he thought. If Azalea had been to Noonvale, she would know Rose! Martin's heart skipped a beat.
Azalea laughed lightly at Martin's bewildered expression. "Don't worry, you'll learn me whole story after we get you settled in, yup yup." She jumped to a higher branch, smiling down at Martin. "What, ya never climbed a tree before, eh? What kind of warrior are ya!"
Martin was still holding the tree trunk tightly. He had climbed a mountain while being chased by wild squirrels, rescued a baby pigmy shrew from an angry seagull mother and defeated Badrang the Tyrant, but climbing trees was not one of Martin's specialties. Just the thought that at any moment the branch he was standing on could snap and send him plummeting to the ground didn't sit well with him. He had never told anyone of his fear of being in trees, for he was supposed to be the fearless leader.
"Martin, there is a rope."
A sigh of relief escaped from the mouse. He wouldn't have to jump to the other tree branch. Scaling the rope rather tentatively, Martin reached the limb on which Azalea was standing. To his surprise, there was a small blue door embedded into the trunk of the tree. However, there was a knob painted onto it, but no real know to turn.
"You like it? The squirrels taught me this, yes they did. It's to keep out intruders." Azalea said.
While Martin pondered why anybeast would look for a door up in a tree, Azalea began tapping the door in a very strange way. She tapped three times at the top center, twice in the left corner and five times at the right corner. With a gentle shove, the blue door fell forward to reveal a carved out room inside the tree. Azalea smirked, "Welcome to my humble abode."
The entire tree trunk was carved in from the branch they were standing on to about three mice high above them. It was a very spacious dwelling, complete with a bed, eating table and larder. There was a small pail full of water in one corner and a very small armory in another. Lying on the shelves were corsair daggers, rapiers and swords. A medium-sized squirrel's bow and an arrow, donned with cardinal feathers, hung from a peg in the wall. A shell collection littered the walls, glued on with strong pine sap. Some plainer ones had been painted with bright dyes. It gave the shelter a homier look. The entire place smelled of a pine tree, due to the fact that it was in a very large pine tree.
"You have quite a collection of weapons here, Azalea," Martin said, clearly amazed by the assortment of blades. "How come you don't carry any of these with you?"
Azalea, who had been busy sorting through ingredients in her larder, stopped to answer him. "Well, for three reasons," she said, twirling a whisker around her paw. "For starters, luggin' that lot with me everywhere would only slow me down. And another, it's taken me quite a long time to collect all those, yes it did. I don't want to risk losing any of those. And lastly, I prefer me own teeth and claws during battle, yup yup."
Martin nervously smiled. He had met several strange warriors before, but Azalea was definitely somewhere at the top of the list for strangest. How could anybeast enjoy biting their enemies to death? The mouse would much rather use a sword any day.
"You can take a seat at the table, Martin." The chipmunk said. "I'm just going to put away some vittles and then I'll be getting some din-din together, yup yup."
Martin knew what was coming next. He didn't want to look and forced himself to stare at the swirl-like patterns on the wooden table. Curiosity won that night. The warrior took a sideways glance at Azalea and immediately regretted it. After fighting the urge to run and upchuck out the window, Martin lost any appetite he previously had for "din-din".
Azalea laughed at the slightly green-looking Martin sitting at her table. "You'll have to get used to me emptying me pouches, I do it everyday." She placed her food in a pail and began washing them off. "It's only normal vittles with a bit of saliva, ya know." The chipmunk sighed at the expression she received from the wide-eyed mouse.
"So, would you like to hear me story then, would ya?" She said after a few minutes of awkward silence.
Martin nodded vigorously, "Oh yes, please."
"Well, I'd better talk while making us our din-din; it takes quite a bit of tellin'."
On that brisk autumn night, the young warrior mouse sat inside a pine tree, listening to the chipmunk tell her tale.
"I was born way out west, near the beach. I don't know if the place was an island, or a very large landmass. (A/N: This is Azalea's way of saying North America. Thanks for the tip Vanilla Breeze!) Me tribe never explored much. We pretty much kept to ourselves, yup yup. We didn't know of any other creatures living in our area. The whole lot of us lived on the cliffs, in secret burrows in the rocks. We made a decent living, finding food and entertaining ourselves with song and dance. We never bothered nobeast, and in turn nobeast bothered us.
"I was a few seasons old when I remember the large ship sailing in. This was the first time a ship landed on our shores since the founding of our chipmunk tribe, yes it was. It turned out is was a vermin's ship, called the Deatheye, as I recall. Captain Wolfbane, a murderous red fox, decided we would make great oar slaves. We were not warriors, and he practically rounded us up and herded us into his ship. That was the last I saw of me original home.
"I spent many long, hard seasons aboard that damned ship. Constantly rowing, I was, with my back bent under the whips of the guards, yup yup. Slavery didn't suit me well, especially since I was just a liddle tyke at the time. Most of the members of me tribe died from exhaustion, starvation, or physical assault. I'm surprised I even lived through the whole ordeal meself.
"After about three seasons, we finally reached land. We were now very far east. (A/N: Yes, that is Europe.) I guess the ship anchored on a certain vermin tribe's so-called land and trouble brewed. Wolfbane's crew got in a battle with these other fellas, yes they did. During the scuttle, several slaves saw this as a chance for escape. Me parents had perished while we were out at sea, so I had no reason to stay. I left with them, yup yup.
"It was me n' three others, Ruby and Topaz, two big, burly female hedgehogs, and Noah, a young mouse like y'self. We stole out into the night, promising the other slaves we would come back for them after we found a decent hideout. We found a perfect one, completely hidden by a big rock and in the middle of a forest. Noah went back to the shore to rescue the other slaves, yup yup. He came back alone, with a sad look in his eyes. He told us that Wolfbane and his crew had decided to leave in haste after they realized they were outnumbered. That meant that the ship and slaves were gone, with no way of finding them again, no there wasn't.
"So, me friends and I wandered along in the forest, until we came across that path over yonder. That's where I first met Polleekin, yup yup."
Martin, who had been silent that entire time, couldn't help but interrupt. "You know Polleekin?"
"Of course, Azalea smiled, "she's our common mole friend. She told me your whole story, yes she did." The chipmunk continued her tale.
"We encountered many different creatures on our journeys and had many adventures. After awhile, though, we came to this here spot in the forest, yes we did. A large group of squirrels lived here. They weren't a family, or a tribe, just a community sorta thing. They welcomed us eagerly and taught us the squirrel life. They taught us how to climb trees, use these secret doors, even how to fight and use weapons, yup yup. That's how I became the warrior I am today. I lived right here in this tree, and Noah lived in a dwelling above me. He became my best friend; we saw each other so much."
"One night, the squirrels were having some sort of celebration or another. I decided to skip the festivities and get some shuteye, 'cause I wasn't feeling me best. I awoke the next morning to find everybeast gone, not a trace left from anybeast. They would never have left without informing me, so I assumed they were captured. Me guess is Badrang the Tyrant, or whatever his name is, yup yup. Since then, I've lived me own solitary life, right in this here pine tree. I was never brave enough to go huntin' me pals down. I sometimes stay away from home a season at a time to roam, but I always return. That's where I've gotten all me shells and blades. I always think about me friends, though, especially Noah. I wonder if they ever escaped from slavery and where they are now." Azalea took a long drink from a beaker of strawberry cordial.
Martin was in awe. He had thought Azalea a little dense and odd, but she was really a brave warrior like himself. He began to think to himself. "You say that your friends were probably kidnapped by Badrang?" he finally asked. The chipmunk nodded. "Now, I know of no Ruby, Topaz or Noah, but I did know some squirrels. Were some fellows by the names of Barkjon and Felldoh part of that community?"
It was Azalea's turn to be surprised. "You knew ol' Barkjon and his liddle son Felldoh, eh? Please, tell me how they're doing! Where are they now?" Her eyes were alight with suspense.
Martin wished he didn't have to tell Azalea the news. "Barkjon is alive and well, living in a peaceful place called Noonvale. Felldoh, however…" his voice trailed off.
Azalea's eyes saddened. "It's okay, Martin, you can tell me."
"Felldoh…gave his life so others could be free. He was a brave warrior and a true friend, one of the best I have ever met."
The chipmunk nodded. "I knew that liddle tyke was a fighter as soon as I laid me eyes on him, yes I did." Rising from her chair, she walked over to her armory. "C'mere Martin, I want to show ya something." She lifted the bow off the shelf and pointed to a small signature carved into the handle. Barkjon, it read. "Ol' Bark was a skilled craftsman, 'specially with weapons. He made this for me as a token of our friendship."
Martin smiled. "I told myself I would never tell anyone about my friends, but since you already know my story, I guess I can make an exception."
"I'd like that, yes I would." Azalea replied.
Martin had no idea when he finally got to sleep that night. The two friends stayed up late into the darkness, telling tales of the lives they had touched in their pasts.