((Thought I was dead, did you? Well, sorry, no such luck, apparently. Not that there haven't been attempts by passing trucks and a couple rabid sheep-frogs. Gotta watch those rabid sheep-frogs…
Anyway, yes, I'm back. I don't know if I'll be able to update quickly at all, but I will try. Promise. Yes, this is the sequel for Vengeance Born, so I suggest reading that one before this one. I have a feeling this story might end up being a bit longer than Vengeance Born, and there'll be at least two parts I've got plotted out that are definitely not going to be happy chapters. So, if you're looking for something light and delicious, I suggest you go find a Three Musketeers bar, because there is no light deliciousness here.
I've also started revising Vengeance Born, because when I went back to reread it, there were a few parts that made my realistic side shudder (not that I care that much about my realistic side anyway) so I figured I might as well try to fix it up a bit. I'll try to keep it so that you can still read through it with it making sense…well…as much sense as I can make.
So, go ahead. Read on.))
The squirrel had been moving since dawn. So had the foxes, but that was a completely different matter. They were not carrying two huge sacks of food and other assorted items. They would never do such physical labor, not while the squirrel was around to do it for them, and especially not in this type of weather, where the humidity was powerful enough to make it hard for the squirrel to breathe.
Neither of the foxes was very smart, as opposed to the reputations their race possessed, but they were strong enough to contain a half-starved squirrel. The squirrel often thought, while watching the foxes engage in incredibly idiotic behavior, that their mother must have been the stupidest fox ever to curse the beloved earth with her existence, and their father must have not exactly been an amazing thinker himself. Passing on their stupidity to their sons, the foxes must have had to split whatever intelligence they could have once possessed. How else would they be stupid enough to do half the things they attempted? Even the squirrel knew better than to try to find sanctuary under a tree during a lightening storm like they had done twelve nights ago, and many times before that.
The squirrel glared his hate at the twins, known as Gan and Eitan, before quickly dropping his gaze back towards the ground. He could take another beating, yes, but what was the point in defiance? It had given him only bruises and blood. So had slavery, but defiance and slavery were pretty closely linked if you thought about it as long as he had. What would be the point in defying if you weren't enslaved in some way? What would there be to defy against? Nothing, that's what.
The slave heard something rustle in the forest beside the wandering beaten path he was plodding along on. Weary, but curious and bored, he glanced towards the sound, dulled leaf-green eyes searching for the source of the odd noise. He barely managed to swallow a startled yelp when he saw the outline of an otter in the foliage, keeping pace easily with him. The otter's face, hidden in shadows, turned to look towards him, and white teeth flashed in the darkness, before the beast suddenly speed up and dodged away from the path, disappearing into the darker depths of the overgrown forest. The squirrel came to an abrupt halt as he squinted into the forest, searching for the beast he had just seen. It was possible it had all been a trick his eyes were playing on him, but he doubted it. His eyes had not played such tricks on him for at least a season now. But no matter how much he squinted, he could not find the otter.
"Squirrel!" Came the angry and whiny voice of Gan, accompanied with the whispering sound of a flying rock, which soon hit the squirrel's delicate left ear. The squirrel hissed at the pain and whirled around, almost losing his balance as the packs that weighed more than he did shifted on his scrawny back. "No time for rest! Keep moving!" Snapped the fox, and turned back around to stomp back down the path.
The squirrel lowered his eyes, and started walking again, ignoring their snickers. He wondered if it really had been his imagination playing tricks on him that had caused him to see something in the forest. For his own sake, he decided not to look again for a while. He didn't exactly need the foxes' anger right now, or ever for that matter.
The sun was nearly setting when there came another noise from the forest, this one like a sharp hiss of breath, meant to catch attention. Startled, the squirrel looked back over at the forest, to find another dark shape keeping pace with him in the forest. This one, though, looked almost like a ferret. The squirrel bit his lip, disturbed by this turn of events and hoping the otter was safe, and directed his gaze back on the ground. He heard what sounded like muted laughter, and when he looked again, the ferret was gone.
When the sun had finally set and the foxes were talking to each other about resting for the night, the squirrel looked up hopefully, and a brilliant flash of green caught his eyes. Two bright green eyes, glowing unnaturally in the fading light, stared out at him from the forest. The squirrel made a strange half-scream half-yelp noise, and the eyes disappeared. The foxes, far from disappearing, looked over their shoulders at the squirrel and scowled.
"I thought squirrels were brave." One muttered to the other.
"And I thought we were going to stop for the night when the sun set." His twin snapped back.
"Fine, fine, you weakling. We'll stop." Replied the fox known as Gan. He turned to the squirrel, "You! Stop walking and make us something to eat. Quick!" He picked up a rock and waved it threateningly.
The squirrel stopped obediently and carefully selected a place to start a fire. Unlike the foxes, the squirrel had noticed the dryness of this land. The last thing anyone needed was a forest fire that would kill everyone. Though, the squirrel thought bitterly, if it killed the foxes, he was not so sure he cared if he had to die, too. What stopped him were the others he had seen today. He did not want innocents to be slaughtered simply because he wanted some revenge.
"Hurry it up, will you, squirrel?" snapped one of the annoyed foxes, accompanied by a familiar whistling noise. The squirrel would have jumped to the side and avoided the rock, but his reflexes had been slowed by a long day of labor. Instead, it hit his left side, thumping against the skin right below his ribcage and, momentarily, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped in air as he continued starting the fire. The foxes would only hit him with more rocks if he tried to even see if any real damage had been done. More rocks was just more pain, and that was just more than the squirrel needed right now. Kneeling carefully the squirrel began to pile small bits of wood onto the growing fire.
If there were anything in his life that the squirrel enjoyed, it would be the fires. He wasn't mad with it, like some were, but he did like it. It was controlled and manipulated just like he was, but unlike the squirrel, fire was still dangerous, even when confined. Beasts feared fire, while the best the squirrel could manage was a slight bit of intimidation, and not even that for seasons now. The squirrel sighed inaudibly, and began cooking the foxes' dinner. He wondered idly if he would eat tonight. He knew the foxes would have to feed him soon, as he hadn't eaten for at least three days. They would not risk him collapsing and them having to carry their own bags.
Not long after the squirrel began putting random supplies into the pot, the scent began to waft all over the place. His stomach rumbled in agitated protest, and the foxes behind him grunted back and forth to each other about it smelling good. But the squirrel expected that. What he did not expect was for a female otter, with numerous scars all over her pelt, to suddenly come walking out of the forest and plop down right across the fire from him.
"Whatever you're cooking smells rather nice, don't you think, Fate?" she asked, but by the end of the sentence she was not speaking to the squirrel anymore; she was speaking to something over his shoulder.
The squirrel turned to find the most interesting sight had believed he had ever seen in his life. A gigantic, brawny, wildcat had Gan pinned to the ground easily, one foot paw resting in gentle threat on the foxes throat. Gan's brother was unconscious on the ground, a ferret sitting easily on his stomach. The ferret had a wide, mischievous grin on his youthful features, and he looked ready to pull some painful trick on the nearest beast. However, the nearest beast being the wildcat with arms about the size as the ferret's head, the squirrel doubted seriously that the ferret would attempt it.
"I do think, Red, more than you know, you know." The ferret responded to the otter's question. "I don't suppose you'll mind sharing, will you, squirrel?" The ferret's wickedly gleaming blue eyes traveled over to the squirrel, who was still gaping at all of them.
"I don't think he's got many brains, but it's the food that matters anyway." The otter said with an apologetic shrug, "Oh, and Dark, knock that thing out so it'll stop trying to plead. It's really annoying, you know."
The wildcat glanced over at her and his upper lip drew back in displeasure to reveal sharp, strikingly white, teeth. "It continuously astounds me how you think I care about your personal comfort." The wildcat said in a smooth, educated voice. The fox's strangled pleas could barely be heard over the fire's destructive crackling, but the wildcat did as the otter requested. With a simple kick to the forehead, the fox was unconscious, and the squirrel swallowed hard, unnerved by all of this.
"What…do you want?" The squirrel asked, not used to speaking. His voice was rough, and it creaked like a rusty door.
"Food, mate." The ferret said as he loped on over and settled down the ground to the otter's right. "And you're cooking some, Red's gone all moral on us, and Dark's hungry for fresh meat. All works out for the benefit of us. I get edible food I don't have to cook, Red gets to silence her conscience, and Dark's got two whole corpses to devour. Oh, and you're not a slave anymore. Ha. Amazing how that works. So, when'll the food be ready?"
The squirrel gaped at him, showing more teeth than he was aware he owned. "What?" he managed after several seconds.
"The food, mate. You know, that lovely stew you're cookin'. When'll it be ready?" the ferret said and shared a long look with the otter that clearly said both of them thought the squirrel a bit dumb.
"You'll be lucky if you don't kill this one, too." The wildcat remarked darkly as he sat to the otter's left, but with enough space between them to show he did not exactly enjoy the otter's company.
"Dark, that was completely not my fault. The mouse was old. Freedom just was too much for her. It was not my fault at all." the otter snapped back, frowning at the wildcat.
"Fell face first into the fire, and went up in flames. Would've been marvelous to watch, of course, but the screaming was a bit much." The ferret confided to the squirrel across the flames.
"That's…terrible." The squirrel said, astounded by this new horror.
"What's terrible is my hunger." The otter corrected, "Now, how long, did you say, it would be before dinner?"
The squirrel decided that until these beasts were fed, there would be no understanding a word they said. Hopefully, after they got some food down their throats, they would make more sense. "In a few more minutes." He said distractedly, trying hopelessly to figure all of this out.
The wildcat leaned over the fire and stared into the pot where the stew was cooking. Upon noticing a carrot floating in the stew, the wildcat stood up and stalked towards the unconscious foxes with a disgusted sniff. "I'll go skin one. Don't put out the fire when you're done, squirrel." The wildcat snapped over his broad shoulder.
"Oh, Darky, aren't you forgetting something?" the ferret called out in a sugary voice that made the otter wince.
"Don't make me kill you, ferret, really, I just don't have the energy right now." The wildcat replied darkly as he picked up Gan's unconscious body and began hauling it off.
"But you've gotta kill the fox first, Dark." The ferret shouted after him.
"Would damage the meat, ferret." The wildcat replied in a moody, dark voice.
"Ouch. Bet that'll be a rude awakening." The ferret remarked to the otter.
"Eh. I've had worse." She replied.
"Oh, really? I bet you haven't." the ferret remarked.
"A bet, you say? How much?" the otter looked truly interested in something besides food since the first time the squirrel has seen her. Tilting her head towards the ferret, and narrowing her eyes slightly, she waited.
"Half my portion of stew goes to you if I loose, and half of yours comes to me if I win." The ferret replied calmly, never batting an eye.
"Deal." The otter said and they shook paws, both, apparently, trying to crush the other's paw while they were at it. The squirrel just gaped at them, unable to comprehend their strange behavior. The squirrel had led a very isolated life, it was true, but there just couldn't be many like these two and their dark companion. If there were, than the world was in much more trouble than the squirrel had bargained on.
"Now, what's this awakening you've had that's worse than waking up to being skinned alive?" the ferret demanded, crossing his paws across his chest and glaring.
"On the way back to the Nameless One's castle, on that ship, after Wello died, I was awakened by the deranged sounds of those idiots singing. Singing, do you hear me? I was about to tear my owns ears off." The otter said, returning the ferret's glare.
The ferret's angry stare, though, melted into one of friendly commiseration. "Ooh, ow, and you were seasick too. You're right, you've had a worse awakening then that fox's undoubtedly getting right about now." The ferret remarked with a solemn nod.
"I really hope Darkclaw will have the courtesy to gag this one. We'll be trying to eat soon, after all." the otter replied, rather lightly for someone talking about something like this, and turned her attention back on the squirrel, "Shouldn't you be stirring, or something?" she asked, with a strange little paw gesture thrown in, like her paw was a spoon and she was trying to show him exactly how a spoon was supposed to work.
"Oh, yes. Right." The squirrel said and began to hastily stir the stew. Without looking at them, he knew they were sharing that deep, doubtful look they had given each other moments before. It annoyed him slightly to have another beast think he was stupid, not even the foxes had been that ignorant, but there wasn't really all that much he could do about it. He doubted the two of them would respond well if he whapped them over the head with the spoon, and if he went defensive and tried to convince them he was smarter than he seemed, they would probably just think he had lost whatever sanity he had once possessed.
"It'll be done soon?" the otter asked hopefully, leaning dangerously far over the pot, as if it had never occurred to her in her life that leaning over boiling, bubbling liquid was not the brightest idea.
"Very soon. You could eat it now, if you wished." The squirrel responded quietly, shrugging. He preferred to let the stew simmer off on it's own for a while before digging in, but these two, with their stomach-ruled existences, probably wouldn't want to wait.
"Oh, and I do wish." The otter said with a huge, predatory grin. "Fate, where's the bowls?"
"How would I know?" The ferret demanded, a bit annoyed by the question. "Maybe Dark took 'em with him to carry the intestines around in."
"That's sick, Fate." The otter observed, not at all sickened by the idea.
"Right." The ferret said with an exaggerated eye roll. "I'll go get your little bowls, like a good little servant." His tone was incredibly sarcastic.
"Good." The otter replied with a nod. "Hurry up."
The ferret's expression was a strong mix of exasperation and shock. He gaped at her for a while, and then sighed. "Red, all our things are way back where we left them." he whined.
"Oh, what? It's three steps away, Fate. In the bushes, over in that way." The otter waved her hand towards a lump of poison ivy.
"I'm not that stupid, Red. I know what that is." The ferret snapped.
"Damn." The otter replied, "You didn't use too." She pouted.
"Well, about the sixth or seventh time, I caught on." His tone was dark, annoyed.
"Look." The squirrel said and pulled out three bowls from the bag nearest him. He tossed two at the creatures across from him and kept one to himself.
Without even waiting, or asking for any kind of silverware, the two dug their bowls into the stew and began promptly squabbling with each other while gulping down their food, never once mentioning the bet they had just made barely a minute ago. The squirrel stared at them, eyes wide and mouth dangling, as they managed to devour their bowls full of stew in what seemed mere seconds, and go back for more. The problem came when there was about half a bowl left, and they both reached for it. It became a full-blown wrestling match in seconds, involving insults bellowed at the top of their lungs the squirrel wouldn't have ever even said aloud. Noticing the level of stew left, he quickly scooped it up and gulped it down. By the time the others noticed, it was gone.
"The fiend!" shouted the ferret, which currently had the otter by the throat.
The otter slapped his paw away and sat up, frowning. "Well, I suppose since he cooked it, it's only right he get some." She said after a moment, but didn't look like she was pleased with this idea.
"You've gotten all soft-hearted, Red. It's sick." The ferret informed his seemingly near-constant companion with a look of complete disgust on his face.
"Soft-hearted?" the otter snapped, "Soft-hearted?" With a sudden, unexpected jerk, she shoved the ferret forward, towards the flames.
The squirrel reacted quickly, lunging to his feet and pushing out a paw, feeling the heat of the relatively small fire. He caught the ferret by the forehead, and shoved him back. The ferret landed sprawled on his back, safe from the flames. If the squirrel hadn't caught him, the ferret would have at least lost an eye.
"Fate!" the otter said, more angry than concerned, but definitely concerned. She kicked him, still sitting, and then pulled him to a sitting position with the front of his tunic, before punching him hard in his left eye, and sending him falling backwards again. "Idiot!" she seethed, "You're supposed to be able to defend yourself and you can't even deal with me?"
"Well, I'm sorry Redsplash, but I don't expect assassination attempts by beasts who recently broke into the Nameless One's castle and went completely nuts in order to save me." The ferret said, his voice a bit nasal too. Apparently, the otter's fist had connected with his nose.
"I did not break in, I broke out!" The otter shouted.
"Who cares? My nose is bleeding." The ferret replied. "You promised you wouldn't hit it again! You pwomised!"
"Oh, well, I'm sorry. I was aiming for your eye." The otter said, sounding a bit calmer now, and a bit smug too.
"I'm sure you were, you big fat liar." Fatefiend whined.
"Here." The squirrel said, tossing him a cloth. "Don't lean back like that. The blood'll run down your throat into your stomach or lungs. You'll be hacking the blood up later, and it'll only make you sick."
"You know medicine?" the otter asked, looking interested in him for the first time.
"I've had a lot of bloody noses." The squirrel responded.
She laughed at this and looked like she was about to say something when the wildcat came crashing back through the undergrowth, carrying what looked like what it was: a skinned, bloody corpse of a recently deceased fox. The squirrel swallowed quickly, and turned his eyes up to the wildcat's face, knowing better than to tempt himself to throw up the small portion of food he'd managed to salvage.
"Oh, lovely, Dark." The otter said, scowling, and leapt to her feet. "I'm gonna leave before you try to get me to eat any of that."
"You liked the shrew." The wildcat said with a shrug.
"I've never had shrew!" Redsplash snapped. The ferret was gagging now, but that might have been because he had not responded to the squirrel's advice.
An evil smile settled itself smugly on the wildcat's features, "Not that you know about." He responded.
"There it goes, Dark." The otter said, seeming more irritated than disgusted. "Any trust I once had in you is gone. Hope it was worth it."
"Oh, definitely." The wildcat responded.
The otter rolled her eyes grabbed the ferret's left paw, dragging him up. "Come on Fate, and you, squirrel. Let's go somewhere else."
"There's a stream to the east, not very far. You could use a bath. You've been scaring away all the edibles." The wildcat commented lightly.
"Edibles?" the squirrel finally managed to squeak something out.
"Don't get him started. He'll only make you regret asking." The ferret said, with the urgency of one who's made that mistake before.
"Oh…all right…" the squirrel said, quickly jumping to his feet. As much as he did not trust the otter or the ferret, the wildcat just plain terrified him.
"What's the matter squirrel?" The wildcat asked with a lazy tone and a wicked grin as he began cooking the skinned fox meat, "Don't want a piece of your enemies?"
"It's only poetic justice, ya know." The otter remarked, "They ate away at your life, you eat away at their flesh."
"Aw, come on Red, you're gonna make it vomit." The ferret complained, glancing at the squirrel who was feeling about ready to submit his meal to the dry grass. "Come on, mate, it's time to get this lovely layer of…stuff…off your fur." The ferret said, grabbing the squirrel's arm and dragging him along.
"We'll be back later, Dark. Don't forget about the other fox." The otter said as she moved to rejoin the other two.
"Never fear. I don't forget things like that." The wildcat said with another of his sadistic grins.
"I bet you don't." the otter remarked darkly over her shoulder just as she caught up with the ferret and the squirrel as they ventured into the forest surrounding the clearing
"So, squirrelly, how do you like Dark?" the ferret questioned, finally letting go of the squirrel's arm.
"I think he's a demon." The squirrel replied truthfully, glancing skeptically at the otter who was sniffing the air like she was sniffing out food.
The ferret laughed, "More poetic than that, actually. He's the exiled prince of the Warheart family venturing through this great world of ours with a disturbed otter and a useless ferret as sidekicks."
"Useless?" the squirrel asked, able to ignore the name Warheart for now.
"Just being humble. I'm actually strikingly handsome and possess enough brilliance to get us out of any scrape." The ferret remarked with a grin.
"That you always get us into." The otter observed darkly and suddenly turned to the right. Without a single question, the ferret followed, and the squirrel, with nothing better to do at the moment, turned with them.
"Not true. Who got us into that fight with all those mice, hmm?" the ferret demanded.
"They were shrews, you idiot. And that all started when they hit me back." The otter snapped.
"Who are you?" the squirrel burst out suddenly, unable to keep the question back any longer.
"Well, I'm Fatefiend, and that's Redsplash." The ferret said, pointing at himself first and then waving a paw at the otter who had changed directions once again. "Who are you?"
The squirrel blushed a bit, "Um…I don't have a name." He said.
"So make one up." The otter remarked distractedly. "I made my new one up, and Fate's working on a last name."
"You don't have a last name?" the squirrel asked Fatefiend, the ferret.
"Well, I suppose you can say that I do. I mean, my mother did, but my father doesn't have a name, and he doesn't want one. Just walks around, orderin' beasts about, and they're just like 'Yes, Nameless One' or 'Go to-"
The squirrel jumped away, "You're the Nameless One's spawn?" he shouted.
"Well, spawn's a rather hurtful word. I prefer 'son.'" Fatefiend said, actually sounding a bit hurt.
"The Nameless One's son?" The squirrel practically screamed.
"What? You thought Darkclaw was the only exiled prince in our company?" Fatefiend asked, blinking slowly at him. "Exiled loyalty travels in packs, ya know. Red here might even by royalty, but she won't talk about her past. Has got to be all dark and brooding and violent all the time, so while me and Dark are talking about the good old days executing underlings, Red just sits there and glares at us."
"As much as I love gossip, Fate," Redsplash said darkly, "I prefer when it's not about me."
"You liar." The ferret said with a roll of his eyes, "You love being talked about. It's why you've gotta tell every creature we meet along the road your name and see if you're reputation's traveled this far yet."
"You just wait. One of these days I'll be infamous." The otter swore.
"Yes, and all your little species'll take it upon themselves to attempt to kill me an' Dark, kidnap you, and try to figure out which one of us brainwashed you. Never knowing, that you're the bad influence on us, but do we ever get to be kidnapped? I don't think so." The ferret said, sounding disgruntled.
"I can't help it if I was born an otter, Fate. Destiny and all." the otter said.
"Right." Fatefiend muttered darkly.
Suddenly Redsplash, in the middle of taking another sharp corner, tripped over a root. She nearly went sprawling, but managed to regain control just before tipping over by grabbing onto Fatefiend's tunic and shoving him down instead. Fatefiend, who landed flat on his face in the mud, stayed there for several seconds as if unable to get up. When he finally did, his face was smeared with mud and various other things that belonged on the forest floor, and should have stayed there. With an expression filled with hate and irritation, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Redsplash.
"So, heh, squirrel, have ya come up with a name yet?" Redsplash asked, attempting without any measurable success to keep the laughter out of her voice, as she kept her green eyes locked on the ferret.
"Huh? Oh, sure." The squirrel said, his voice incredibly sarcastic as he searched for a word. "Root." He announced, remembering what had just caused the previous fiasco.
"Well, that's an idiotic name." Redsplash said, glancing at him, "Why not Rinak or Renist..or…something?" the otter demanded, losing her momentum halfway through and then regaining it on the last word.
"Uh, because those two choices sound like sneezes, or maybe some last muffled scream of a choking duck." Fatefiend snapped. "I think Root's fine, I mean, he's obviously no intellectual wonder. Why should he have a name he can't even spell?"
The squirrel rolled his eyes, "Look, I wasn't serious-" he started.
"No, it's fine." Fatefiend assured him, "I'm sure Redsplash over here will realize someday that her name isn't that much of a masterpiece. I mean, just think about it. Red. Splash. Whoa. I bet that took entire seconds of deep thought."
The otter just glanced at him, obviously annoyed. "You're dirty, Fate. Go take a bath." She ordered.
"In what, you idiot? The mud?" Fatefiend returned.
"Where there's mud, there's water, ferret, and we've just found it." Redsplash said and jumped forward, shoving the ferret back. With a scream that made the squirrel wince, he flew backwards, and his scream ended with a gigantic splash that signaled that the otter was right. There was water nearby.
Redsplash stood there, smiling smugly, while the squirrel just gaped at her. Finally, nearly a minute later, there came a voice full of injured pride and frustration, "Red." Fatefiend said, "I think I really hate you right now."
"I think you hate me all the time." Redsplash responded and walked forward, pushing aside the bushes lining the creek, and then stepped right into the water. "Very shallow." She observed.
"Yes. Remind you of anyone?" Fatefiend demanded venomously, glaring at her.
"Not really. No." Redsplash said, and turned to look at the squirrel. "You. Squirrel. Root."
"Uh…yes?" the squirrel responded slowly.
"Are you planning to just stand there?" she demanded.
"If I go into that creek, I'm afraid one of you will try to drown me." The squirrel responded. "And stop calling me Root."
"It's you name, you idiot. And we won't try to drown you, though it could be an unfortunate coincidence." The otter responded with that wide evil grin of hers.
"Look, mate, she's not gonna drown you. She's lazy." Fatefiend remarked with an eye roll.
"I prefer trees to creeks, I really do." The squirrel responded uneasily, glancing back and forth between the two of them.
"Oh, please," Redsplash muttered, "If I climb a tree, will you go get that lovely layer of grease off your fur? You really, really stink."
"You climb trees?" the squirrel demanded.
"She's got this thing about being the opposite of what an otter's supposed to be. If you ask me it's gotta link back to some traumatic incident in that past of hers that she refuses to mention." The ferret revealed his opinion in a moody tone as he climbed out of the creek and began trying, with very limited success, to wring the water out of his tunic while still wearing it.
"Oh. I see." The squirrel did not see. In fact, he had no idea whatsoever was going on in the mind of the she-otter, but he was pretty much certain he wanted to pluck all his fur out and go about bald more than he wanted to take a peek into her brain.
She seemed to realize what he was thinking and smiled a feigned-innocent smile as she jumped out of the water and scampered easily up the nearest tree. Due to the way it had grown, and the pressure from the other trees near the bank, it went nearly straight up about twice the squirrel's height, and then flattened out and grew out over the stream. The otter perched on one of the thinnest branches, kicking her foot paws and staring down at the creek that ran along below her.
"No, go into the stream, chipmunk." The otter said airily with a kick of her left foot paw towards the stream, and an arrogant gesture of her right hand.
"Chipmunk?" the squirrel screeched, very gravely insulted, "What did you call me?"
"Ignore her." The ferret suggested. "She's only trying to bait you. She calls me a weasel all the time. Doesn't bother me."
"But I'm not a chipmunk!" the squirrel shouted.
He had met a chipmunk once, and the idiotic thing had nearly driven him insane with it's constant blinking, tail twitching, and attempts at speech. It had been rather stupid, but must have been able to understand that all the words coming out of the squirrel's mouth were pretty much insults, because it not only glared at him, but it chunked a nut at him. The squirrel had lived with the bump on his head from that unjustified attack for several long days.
"I somehow doubt she cares about that half as much as you do." Came the ferret's ironic reply as he finally gave up trying to dry the tunic and gave a heavy sigh, sending a look of reproach up at the grinning otter.
"Me too." The otter agreed. "Now, in the water with you. You promised."
"I-I did not!" Objected the squirrel, more shocked than actually irritated. As far as he could tell, these creatures were dangerous only because the things they did, they did without thinking about the possible consequences. They reminded the squirrel of children, barely able to understand right and wrong and doubting that they mattered in the first place. The otter, especially, seemed as if she didn't care about morality. The ferret, at least, seemed to realize it existed. They were harmless in an odd way, and the squirrel was sure he could stand them for more than around a day or so. Much more time spent with those two after that, and he would probably go insane with their strange way of thinking.
It was, again, the wildcat he did not trust. Something about the way the Warheart cat's eyes followed the squirrel around, with a lazy threat hanging from his very posture, made the squirrel want to climb up the tallest tree in the world and hide there until the cat was safely locked behind the Dark Forest's Gates. He hated the way the wildcat seemed to treat his two companions with the kind of indifference only one completely at ease could use. Anyone at ease around these two was either way too powerful for the good of all other beasts, or completely insane. The squirrel was not sure what was more frightening than the prospect of a completely mad wildcat, but he knew better than to try thinking something up.
"-go already?" The otter sounded irritated as she burst through the squirrel's thoughts.
"Fine. I'll go. Just stop complaining." The squirrel responded grumpily as he stepped into the creek.
It was cold. Colder than he had thought it would be, but it was not cold enough to be uncomfortable. In fact, it was more refreshing than anything else. He walked unsteadily out to the center of the creek and sank unto his knees, craning his neck back to keep his head above water. He did not like the feeling of the water moving past quickly, urging him along. It was like the creek was trying to make him go with it, trying to control what he did. The squirrel had had enough of being controlled long ago. Still, as long as he did not have to stay like this long, it was kind of nice in a way.
He sighed and leaned back, slowly settling under the surface. He marveled at the strange kind of ominous peace there was under this creek's surface, before hearing, or actually feeling, something heavy enter the water with him. He twisted, opening one eye slightly, to see the otter staring at him, upside down. She grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back up the surface.
"No testing our lungs in this creek, all right?" the otter said, sounding a bit breathless and aggravated.
"I was only under the surface for a few seconds." The squirrel replied reproachfully.
"Red, get him out quick. It's lookin' pretty interested in what you're doin'." Fatefiend said, sounding as irate as the otter, if not more.
"Come on." the otter said and tugged at his arm, "Get to shore quick. We've attracted some unwanted company."
"We've done what now?" the squirrel asked and glanced upriver, confused by this strange behavior. A very large fish was swimming towards them idly, almost as if it was just bored and searching for something to entertain it. Though he was not sure what exactly the fish deemed as entertainment, the squirrel knew better than to stick around to find out. With wild, waving movements that probably hindered him about as much as they helped him, the squirrel shot towards the shore in bounding, less-than-graceful leaps, that sent him, finally, flying out of the water and nearly ramming straight into the tree. The otter and the ferret laughed uproariously at the squirrel's behavior, even while Fatefiend leaned down to help pull Redsplash out of the stream.
"What are you two laughing at? That thing could've killed me!" The squirrel said, profoundly offended by their loud and openly mocking amusement and vaguely embarrassed that he had panicked while the two other beasts had remained completely calm.
"Maybe if you held still and let it nibble at you for a couple seasons." Redsplash remarked sarcastically, still giggling on and off, as she shook herself violently, sending water droplets flying all over Fatefiend who had just managed to get relatively dry. He sent Redsplash a disapproving look, apparently drained of all amusement by this new crime, and shook his head, mouth drawing into a frown.
"It was huge!" The squirrel insisted, throwing his paws out to emphasize how big it was, at least in his imagination, eyes still wide and heart still racing.
"Oh, please, mate," the otter said in a slightly patronizing, but somewhat friendly tone as she threw a paw around the squirrel's shoulders and began directing him back in the vague direction of the wildcat, "You'll see fish at least ten times that big when you travel with us. We're going to Salamandastron, you know. You'll love it."
"Fish get bigger than that?" The squirrel demanded in a quietly awed voice and then the meanings of the rest of the otter's words sunk in, "Wait, I'm going with you three?"
"Of course. Do you have anywhere else you were planning on going?" Redsplash asked, with the type of tone that said she really did not care if he did.
"Get away, Root, while you can. She'll get you trapped so you can't leave. She's evil and manipulating, she is." Fatefiend muttered darkly as he plodded along behind them, again trying to wring water out of his tunic.
"Oh, just ignore that one. He's just moping." Redsplash said, sending the ferret an aggravated look over the squirrel's shoulder.
"I am not moping." Fatefiend snapped, "You make fun of me, you throw me into creeks, you drench me with water, you try to kill me, and you expect me to jump for joy when some poor soul is about to fall into the same trap I did? I don't think so you bloody, ignorant, smelly pig of an otter!"
"See, we're great to travel with. Very close knit and all." Redsplash said, amazingly managing to look and sound sincere as she lied through her mostly white teeth.
"Uh…all right…" the squirrel said, agreeing reluctantly, though he had no idea to what.
"Great!" Redsplash said, "Now, how about another batch of that stew of yours?" she suggested with that same evil grin of hers back on her face.
Wondering blearily if he had any choice at all, he nodded. He'd make some more food and then get some sleep. He had no idea what was going on in his life, or who these strange creatures were, but he was pretty much certain he preferred their company over the foxes who were now dead and being devoured by a sadistic wildcat. Following the other two as they bickered pettily back and forth, the squirrel shook his head from side to side nearly constantly, attempting, it seemed, to shake the other three out of his mind because, currently, they seemed to be making a mess out of it.