The Lowly
...Are smarter then they seem. Just because somebeast is low in rank, in reputation- just because they haven't received their fair share of something- it doesn't mean they're stupid.
Prologue: An Opportunity
... In which there is a beginning involving an opportunity and treasure.
- -
"It's an amazing opportunity, Smiffy." stated the fox, eyes probing him for emotion.
Smiffel was very good at remaining emotionless, however, and the fox's action was wasted energy. The lithe weasel leaned back in his chair, paws clasped together. He closed his eyes, deep in thought for a moment. "Not really." replied Smiffel, getting up and pacing around, "What would my dear brother, Seeker, play in this?"
"You could take him along." said the fox, with a shrug. "I'm just offering you the opportunity to come on my little treasure hunt. You don't have to accept." he finished with a sly smile.
Frowning deeply the thin weasel tapped his footpaw against the ground for a few seconds, "Fine. I accept this offer. I'm just going to ask my brothers and my sister if they want to come along."
The fox blinked, "You're joking, aren't you? That little hyperactive nutcase who believes she wields a flaming sword of doom?"
Smiffel glared at the red-furred fox coldly, "Yes. Her. You better not say anything like that in front of her, she might get upset. You know what happens when she gets upset, Ertil."
The fox nodded glumly, "Yes. I do. Are you sure you want to take her?"
"I'm sure she won't bother you that much, Ertil. Surely you can ignore a weasel? You're supposed to be a clever fox, after all." said Smiffel with a grin.
"I can ignore a stupid, unimportant little weasel." muttered Ertil, viciously.
"Good for you, Ertil. Well, I shall to go to each of their homes now. Rather tiring action, by the looks of it. I'll meet you here again tomorrow. How does that sound?" questioned the weasel.
"Fine." muttered the fox. He noted the weasel leaving and hollered after him, "What time?"
"Oh... Hmm, early in the morning. I'm not good with specific times." said the light brown weasel with a shrug, a smirk grew on his face, "Fare thee well."
"Fare thee well." muttered the fox.
The weasel disappeared out the door, into the blinding winds and the cold snow.
Ertil ordered another drink.