((I'm sorry this took so long to get up, I was having a battle of wills with my characters that, unfortunately, they won. I fought with trying to make the original plot work for a couple weeks, then refused to write on this at all out of spite, and then, finally, had to come up with a new plot for this chapter and change the rest of the plot to accommodate it. So, now, I do not like this chapter, and I'm not that thrilled with any of my characters right now, so if they seem to be acting a bit strange in this chapter, please just ignore it. I might have been subconsciously trying to make them look stupid or something.

I imagine this next chapter and the chapter after that will be very slow getting up, because I don't write quickly what I don't like, and, believe me, I'll hate the next couple of chapters. I'm not going to tell you what will happen, though, because that'll ruin the surprise.

Oh, yeah, warnings about this chapter…there pretty much are none, just mental anguish, physical strain, some weirdoes, and a little bit of Root's past. And, by the way, I have finally put a real bio up after about a year and three months, lol. And I didn't really edit this, so if you see any mistakes, tell me, ok? Thanks.))

It was driving him crazy, that nagging voice in the back of his mind pleading for him to run away, but he could not silence it or ignore it, so he just had to bear it. Root had decided to free the wildcat first, because, of the three of them, Darkclaw was the least likely to run off if they arrived. The wildcat knew his only chance for survival was in the slight bit of clearing that he was currently hanging above. In the forest, the wildcat would be slaughtered before he could get seven paces south.

Not that Redsplash and Fatefiend were taking happily to this choice of Root's. In fact they were complaining, at the top of their lungs, about being left to hang while Root went about trying to free Darkclaw, and they were refusing to quiet. Root, trembling and terrified, was trying to ignore them, but they were making it difficult. The squirrel had scaled the tree the wildcat was being held from, and was searching for something. He didn't know what it was, exactly, that he was looking for, but knew he would recognize it if he found it.

"They've developed their trap. You'll have to cut the string." Darkclaw's tone was too close to sounding anxious for comfort. Even the otter and ferret quieted for a second, confused by both the tone and the message, before immediately beginning to ask questions.

Root didn't understand, but he knew what Darkclaw was talking about. A strange feeling of anger, a hatred so deep and irritated that Root was momentarily paralyzed, struck him and, after perhaps a second or so, he found his paw shooting out and gripping a small, nearly invisible, string that was attached to the net Darkclaw hung from. He stared down at, realizing the trap. If that net were relieved of the weight of Darkclaw's body, then the string, which was tight, would become slack. Root followed the string up the tree, scurrying easily up the trunk. At the very last stable branch he found a strange contraption. It was shaped like a bell, but was built of what looked like bone…almost like a skull. Strange, though, Root had never seen anything that could possess bones that big, let alone a skull.

The string pulled the bell forward. If the string were cut, the bell would ring. Bad…

Root practically flew back down to Darkclaw. "There's a bell-" he started.

"I know there's a bell, and so do you." Darkclaw snapped moodily. "You're just going to have to cut the string and then keep it from ringing."

"Someone tell me something!" Redsplash bellowed.

"How do I-" Root began.

"No, tell me! Tell me!" Fatefiend shouted.

"Cut-" Root continued.

"Don't tell him anything!" Redsplash shrieked.

"The rope without-" Root started again.

"What's going on?" Fatefiend questioned at the top of his considerably powerful lungs. Unfortunately, Redsplash attempted to say something at the same time, and, soon, they were both yelling to be understood and neither of them was making any sense. The whisper for Root to flee became a screaming, unrelenting, forceful roar in Root's mind, driving out everything else. He tried to violently shake the deafening sounds out of his mind and Darkclaw roared, the first serious roar Root ever remembered hearing, and, once more, the roar in Root's mind grew even louder and he panicked.

"All right, Root, listen closely." Came Darkclaw's very irate voice. "If you do not let go of the tree limb and cut the rope so the bell doesn't ring, I will personally pry your eyes out of their sockets and eat them."

"Dark, I don't think that's helping." Fatefiend berated the wildcat dryly.

Root had been clutching the tree limb next to the bell as if it were the only thing anchoring him to the living world. After Darkclaw's roar, the otter and the ferret had quieted for long enough for the wildcat to explain their predicament. They had been trying to get Root to let go of the tree for at least five minutes now, and the squirrel, eyes closed and jaw clenched, refused to even answer them. This was not helping Darkclaw's temper much, which, in turn, was not helping Fatefiend's anxiety or Redsplash's irritation.

"Squirrel!" Redsplash yelled suddenly, standing up, in a sense, in her net and jumping up and down. For a second Fatefiend did not understand why Redsplash was jumping and then, as his net began to sway, he realized. She was shaking the tree, which didn't, when he thought about it, seem like a good idea. If she scared Root any more, it was likely the squirrel would go running off and never return. And if that happened, they would all be killed, if Darkclaw were to be believed.

Of course, Fatefiend was the only one present that didn't think about what swaying the tree would do to the bell. Darkclaw shouted something unintelligible that sounded a great deal like a muddled death threat compressed into half a breath, and Root flew like a bolt of furry lightening to bell, which he hugged like a long lost best friend to keep it from ringing. Panting madly, the squirrel held onto the bell for several seconds after any threat of ringing had passed. Then he flew down the tree, without shaking it once, dropped to the ground, grabbed hold of Redsplash's net with one paw, and began shaking the other paw furiously as he bellowed at her.

"Do you have a death wish? You're gonna get us all killed! Stupid, arrogant, she-otter!" And with that he let go of the net, took in a very deep breath, and bellowed like a dying badger at the stunned Redsplash. It was a wordless, angry roar that caused Fatefiend to wonder if the squirrel was, in fact, completely insane. And not insane in the way he and Redsplash were, but in a very sick, very twisted way that made Fatefiend very nervous.

"You don't react well to stress, do you?" Redsplash questioned mildly as the squirrel finally silenced himself, her tone a bit meek.

"Poor dear." Fatefiend forced out half a second after Redsplash's sentence registered with his mind. Funny to the end, they were.

"Squirrel." Darkclaw's voice was calm, again, cold even.

Root, eyes amazingly wide, turned to look at him blankly. "What do you want?" He demanded, his tone almost sullen.

"If you do not wish to die, get up the tree and muffle the bell, because I am going to cut myself out of this net right now." And he meant it, because he lifted his sharp claws to the rope.

Root was obviously a very quick beast when he needed to be, because he was up the tree and muffling the bell before Darkclaw's claws even finished cutting through the rope. When the rope gave and the bell began to ring, Root reached inside and stopped it, feeling his left paw seem to shatter. Screaming, he reacted to the pain and jumped backwards, very nearly falling out of the tree. Certainly, if he had possessed an insane resistance to pain, the bell never would have tolled. As it was, he reacted like anyone but a masochist would have, and his scream rivaled the bell for pure volume. Darkclaw, who was free, was not happy.

In second, he freed Redsplash and Fatefiend and threw them violently in the direction of the setting sun they could barely glimpse through the trees. "Go!" The wildcat roared and the otter and ferret, amazingly, complied without a single complaint at being tossed. Root, crippled now that his left paw was hurting so badly he could barely think at all anymore, threw himself out of the tree, hoping that, for some reason, a fall from this height wouldn't cripple him anymore. Because, if it did, he wouldn't be able to walk and they would get him.

For some strange reason, instead of letting him fall and likely break his neck, Darkclaw reached up into the air and caught hold of the squirrel. "Next time, try not to get maimed in the process of failing." The wildcat growled and set the squirrel down in the dirt before setting off after the otter and ferret, who, though they did not know where they were going, were setting a pretty breakneck pace. Letting a mewl of pain and a grunt of irritation pass his lips, Root staggered to his foot paws and doggedly started after them, holding his left paw to his chest.

Redsplash got perhaps a minute into her breath-stealing and energy-draining sprint when the dart hit her shoulder. Instinctively, she ripped it out, and a muted shout of pain ripped from her as the long needle-like dart was ripped out of her flesh. She stared at it as she ran, frowning in incomprehension. And then, the air was filled with them. They dug into her, one narrowly missing her right eye. The otter saw Fatefiend trip and fall, so full of the darts that he looked like some kind of mad porcupine. Darkclaw was roaring again, and, for a second, everything still seemed survivable.

And then hundreds, if not thousands, of gray-garbed beasts were surrounding them. There were so many that, abruptly, the forest-green was no longer visible. Everything was gray, and moving, and dangerous. Ferrets, badgers, otters, rats, and mice stared at them all with blank, but oddly accusatory, stares as they threw the darts at them, without ever blinking or seeming to aim. If they had been baring their teeth, or even laughing, Redsplash would have understood, but this…how could you fight something that wasn't even awake? How could you kill something that wasn't even alive?

Everything seemed to slow down to a strange crawl, and Redsplash had time to take it all in, to try to understand. Fatefiend was on his knees, trying desperately to pull out all the darts, with blood spurting out of him like he was some kind of freakish fountain. Darkclaw, littered with the tiny darts that couldn't seem to penetrate his heavy fur like they could Fatefiend's, gave a mighty shake and the tiny darts went flying like demonic bees. Root, eyes wide and teeth bared in what could only be called absolute terror, held his left paw to his chest protectively and ignored all the darts flying at him and those that had already embedded into his flesh.

The gray-garbed beasts were many, but they seemed to be running out of darts, at last. A whole group of them, scattered among the endless crowd, were standing there listless, as if they did not know what to do next. Blank eyes stared at the air in front of them as if waiting for it to tell them what to do. They were silent, too, never making a sound as they threw their darts. In fact, the only sounds were the screams and roars of Redsplash and her companions. It was a strange peace these beasts brought, but it was peace.

And then time was going fast again, and Darkclaw was roaring. He reached out with his gigantic paws and swiped at the darts in the air, bellowing at the top of his considerably powerful lungs. Fatefiend was receiving most of the darts, now, and it was strange that, after all he had gone through, it was this that looked the most like it was going to kill him. Coughing up blood and weakly pawing at the darts, he had fallen onto his back now and seemed to be trying to crawl towards a bush. Redsplash lunged towards the ferret, pushing him towards the bush so that it covered most of him and then placing herself in between the rest of the darts as she attempted to tug them all out of the ferret. Everything seemed to be glimmering oddly, and Redsplash realized the darts had some kind of poison on them.

It was, of all beasts, Root that saved them. Screaming that same insane scream of his again, he flew at the solid line of gray-garbed beasts and began to send them flying through the air with a strength that seemed to Herculean for a squirrel his size. The dart-wielders were confused, as if this had never happened, and stood surprising still with an intent look on their faces as if listening to something far away. And then they turned around, all at once and all as one, and ran away. Root, shaking violently from fear or an attempt to get rid of all the darts, stood with a mouse clutched in his paws, screaming at the empty-eyed creature as if he could kill it with a scream.

"Root." Darkclaw said, his tone distracted, lightly confused. The squirrel did not even quiet a bit. "Root!"

The squirrel grabbed one of the darts out of his own shoulder and stabbed it straight into the mouse's neck, before dropping the twitching and gasping beast on the ground and turning around. For a second he looked furious, almost like Redsplash had when the bloodwrath had taken over her mind, but then he blinked, and everything changed. Furious eyes turned blank and pleading, and, as if in shock, he turned to stare down at the now-dead mouse. He trembled and shook and whimpered, unable to believe what he had done. The others just stared at him in blank surprise as he denied, in tiny little mutters that could hardly be heard much less deciphered, that none of this was real.

Root wasn't a killer. He didn't want to kill anything. Killing was wrong. Killing was murder. Murder was a crime committed only by those who could deal with the guilt of killing something alive, of ending a future that could have held hope, and Root could not bear that kind of guilt. The squirrel did not know the mouse he had killed. It could have not been the mouse's fault that she was wearing gray and had no life behind her eyes and that she had tried to kill Root and the others. Perhaps the mouse was forced into it. No, the mouse had not deserved death. No one deserved death. No one, but, perhaps a murderer. A murderer like Root.

He hadn't meant to do anything but curl into a ball and die. That's all he had wanted to do. But then that whisper-like instinct had become a roar and, suddenly, the whisper was Root. The instinct had taken over and he had watched, a spectator, as he flew at the empty-eyed beasts and ripped at them, tearing and pushing and screaming…screaming a scream that was more terrible than, perhaps, everything else. Root didn't want to be insane, but, with a voice that took over your body and a scream that practically rang with insanity, what could he be? Perhaps, if you were insane, you couldn't help murdering people…but, no, Root wouldn't excuse himself for what he had done. Murder was murder, and death was death. He couldn't argue with something like that.

"Fatefiend, are you all right?" Redsplash's voice was distant, somehow, as if sounding from very, very far away. Someone, or something, groaned painfully in reply.

"Squirrel." Darkclaw sounded angry, and anger was not a good thing. Too much anger could upset your stomach, Root noted distractedly. Someone should really warn the wildcat about too much anger. "Squirrel, will you stop looking like the mouse had a life to loose?"

They feel pain… "They feel pain." Root mimicked the whisper like a good little puppet, staring blankly at the mouse, whose empty eyes looked more full of life now that she was dead than they had when she had been throwing darts.

"Of course they feel it, but, to them, it doesn't feel bad. You know they love it. Stop acting like an idiot. We've got to leave before they bring the Blacks, or even the Whites, out."

"The what…?" Root asked quietly, beginning the draining process of dragging himself back up to the surface of reality.

"You know." Darkclaw replied morbidly, and Root did.

Swords and spears and poison…you will become a Gray. Run. Leave them behind…go, now. But Root was far too spiteful towards himself to care if he could be killed or turned into one of those grab-garbed maniacs. He wanted to wait for them, to let them drag him off and kill him. That's all he wanted. Death or to be turned into a complete puppet, rather than one allowed to taste freedom except when someone needed to die.

"Fatefiend, you idiot, why'd you never learn to dodge?" Redsplash demanded bitterly.

"Hard to dodge…" Fatefiend sounded as if all the breath had been taken from him and he was speaking on the last exhale he had. "When there's a hundred of the damn things flying at you at once."

"Oh, please, like that's an excuse!" Redsplash snapped fiercely back at him.

"We have to leave now." Darkclaw commented and turned. Root turned with him, as if there were invisible strings attaching the two. Fatefiend was standing slowly, and swaying dangerously. He looked drunk, and Redsplash looked only a little better. Confused, Root wondered how he knew the darts were poisoned if the poison was not affecting him, and why, if his paw had hurt so much before, could he not feel it at all now?

"I don't know if Fatefiend can run." Redsplash replied darkly. "He looks a bit…unstable."

"Oh, take your unstable and-" At this point, Fatefiend fell completely over, depriving the three of them with the end to his remark. With a growl of agitation, Darkclaw scooped the ferret up in one paw, turned in the direction of the setting sun once more, and lunged into a sprint that seemed too fast for the otter and the squirrel to even think about matching.

Practically emitting anger and confusion, Redsplash leapt past him, following the wildcat with a speed that was surprisingly quick. Root stayed where he was, frowning softly as he continued to drag himself up out of the pit his real self had been buried in when the whisper had taken over. He was almost himself again, when he heard it. The whisper. Again. Turn to the left…Obediently, Root turned to see a female squirrel with aristocratic and fierce features, dressed a strangely designed blood red dress, step out from behind a tree and take several quick paces towards him.

"Have you returned, then?" Came her voice, clear and questioning. A smile, quick but unsure, crossed her lips, though it did not reach her steely blue eyes.

"No." Root hadn't wanted to reply, but, here he was, a puppet again, his real self being shoved out of the way once again. "I promised never to return, and, rightfully, I should not be here."

"You can't leave." The squirrel said, her blue eyes wide and abruptly tear-filled. She reached out as if to touch his face and he drew back with a light growl. "Please, don't leave us again." She pleaded tearfully.

"Your kind is full of failure. I will not stay here, and I have no intention of ever coming back again." At least this part was true, though Root regretted the tears now falling down the other's face. He didn't want to kill anybody, and he didn't want to make anyone cry. What kind of a monster was he?

But she was not crying for very long. Abruptly, she stopped crying and bared nightmarishly pointy teeth at him. "If you will not stay willingly," she growled, "We will bury in a coffin and force you to!"

"Better a coffin than a cage." Root growled back, turned on his heels, and practically flew after the other three.

Darkclaw knew what was happening. The fact that the squirrel wasn't with him or the otter told the wildcat that there was reunion going on behind him that had to be less than pleasant. So, he was running as fast as he could with the extra bulk of the ferret carried carefully but less-than-graciously in his large paws. As fast as he could, anyway, without letting the otter fall behind and get herself lost. Of all the things he didn't need after all this, losing the otter was at least in the top seven on his long and bitter list.

Darkclaw knew, when he saw the squirrel suddenly appear beside the otter, that things were about to get very dangerous. So, he sped up. The otter shouted for him to slow down, but Darkclaw knew better than that. If she wanted to live, she would have to run faster than that. The poison was probably what was slowing her so drastically, but, really, she could be trying a bit harder to fight back the affects of it, or she could die. Besides, the squirrel knew where they were going, and, if she really did get lost, Darkclaw doubted the squirrel would simply leave her. Though they did not seem to have the most wonderful relationship, the squirrel seemed sentimental…he would never leave anyone to die.

"I'm gonna kill him!" Redsplash growled vehemently, as she watched Darkclaw disappear.

"Run, Redsplash. Run!" Root replied, sounding suddenly very breathless. Redsplash looked up at him, and then followed his gaze, glancing back over her shoulders. There were the gray things again, only, this time, they were mixed quite heartily with black and, occasionally, white-garbed beasts. Weaponry glittered morbidly, and darts flew at them. Fortunately, they were so far ahead of the empty-eyed beasts, that the darts did nothing but drug the forest floor. Still, it gave Redsplash incentive to follow Root's suggestion, and follow it quite heartily.

Time seemed to bunch together in long seconds that lasted for hours, and then flee from them making hours last minutes. It was strange, how one could never really tell what one's limits were until there were really tested. Root, at this point, was not entirely thrilled about his life, and was not sure he even wanted it to go on…but it was amazing how attached you got to your life once someone tried to take it away. They ran for what seemed forever, and then they kept running. Eventually, just breathing was more torture than pleasure as they stumbled onward, with the gray-garbed beasts always gaining and never tiring. Both of them stumbled more than once and the other reached down and pulled them back up, with neither of them saying anything. It was hard to understand their own thoughts, when all they could think about was the pain in their lungs, ribs, and legs.

It was getting harder to remember to breathe, and even harder to force his body to take the air in, when he remembered to breathe, anyway. He couldn't feel his paw or his legs, and it was a strange feeling to be running but not feel the ground at all. Redsplash did not seem to be in any better condition, if the strange mixture of a gasp, a curse, and a hiss that was her current system of breathing was any sign of how she really felt. Things were getting desperate now, because he could not even remember why he was running. All he wanted to do was fall, faint, or fade away. Just a bit of rest, so he could catch the breath that seemed to be actively fleeing from him. That's all…just a bit of rest…

And then, abruptly, they were out of the forest. This barely registered in Redsplash's harassed and numbing mind, and she just kept going with the same staggering-stumbling steps. For a full fifteen seconds she kept going and then, suddenly, Root's faint and harsh voice reached her ears. "Stop…Stop, Redsplash…they won't follow…can't leave the…" And then the squirrel fell over, unable, it seemed, to stand up any longer.

Redsplash wearily turned around, glancing first at the squirrel and then at the forest, deciding that she was not going to take another step. If those creatures had pursued her this far and were still intent on killing her, then they could have her carcass, as long as they killed her so she could get some rest. Wearily and slowly, she looked at the forest and her eyes focused very slowly, and her mind took a compressed eternity to understand the image her eyes sent her. The thousands of gray, white, and black-garbed beasts were standing at the very edge of the forest, staring at the two of them quietly. For several long haunting seconds, the empty-eyed beasts simply looked at her and then, as if answering an unheard call, turned around disappeared into the forest. And then, Redsplash fell over.

It wasn't that she decided to fall, it was that her legs refused to hold her any longer. Something shifting and warm caught her and she lay there, gasping desperately and futilely. She had only barely begun to get some air in her empty lungs when she was forced to roll over, support herself on shaky arms, and vomit up of every single morsel of food in her gut. And then Root did the same. Redsplash crawled away from the evidence of the stomach's surrender, and curled into a gasping ball in the warmth of whatever was on the ground.

It was possible she stayed there for a year, or maybe just a minute, but it was over all too quickly. A gigantic shadow fell over her and Redsplash knew that her break was over. "If you stay like that, it will get better slower. Get up, and follow." Darkclaw's apathetic rumble was less than music to the otter's ears, but she knew it was right. Never before had she been so out of breath, but that really didn't matter. She had survived, and that mattered. Now, she needed to get rid of the pain and get some sleep.

The otter and the squirrel stumbled listlessly after the wildcat as he led them, across what Redsplash finally noticed was sand, towards a grassy area that was ten minutes to far for Redsplash's liking. They passed several small groupings of tree, which would have served as decent camps, but none of them wanted anything to do with trees after being chased past millions of the things. When they reached the grass, they found Fatefiend stirring away at something that smelled rather good. Without bothering to say anything else to them, Darkclaw wandered away with his large pack of dead fox meat and, just in sight of the other three, began hungrily devouring the well-preserved, but what had to be rather cold, food.

"Thought you two would be showing up right about now." Fatefiend told them in an oddly raspy voice. "Decided you'd be hungry."

"No." Redsplash breathed. "Thirsty, though. Very thirsty."

"Here." Fatefiend said and kicked a jug of water over towards her. "Don't drink too much. You'll be sick."

"Mmm. To late." Redsplash remarked as she gulped down several mouthfuls and then, reluctantly, passed the water to Root, who also took a drink before passing the water back to Fatefiend.

"I'm going to go sleep." Redsplash said. "If any more of the monsters show up, tell them to kill me quietly so as I don't wake up." And with that she stumbled perhaps seven paces away and then simply fell over. Seconds later the sounds of her gentle snores could be heard in the death-quiet of still evening.

"What can I say?" Fatefiend asked with a grin. "Near-death experiences always make her sleepy."

"I'm hungry." Root replied, rather bluntly. "When will that be ready?" He gestured at the pot of whatever it was.

"Now, I suppose." Fatefiend answered, and cleared his throat. "Find yourself a bowl."

So Root did, and it was while he was devouring what turned out to be soup, that he noticed Fatefiend's eyes seemed a bit red. "Are you all right?" He questioned, concerned and, yet, still hungry. It was odd that Fatefiend was the one being polite while he, the moral one, was rudely demanding food and slurping it down without thanks.

"I will be." Fatefiend replied with a sigh. "Turns out I'm allergic to the poison. You should have seen me an hour ago. My whole face was puffy. I looked almost as hideous as my father."

"I'm sorry." And Root was, genuinely, sorry.

"Me too." Fatefiend sighed and then shrugged. "Don't suppose it matters though, it'll fade in time. I just hope most of the swelling goes away before Redsplash is awake enough to notice…she may not mean it, but her jests can be rather harsh on one's ego."

"You don't think she means it?" Root questioned quietly as he refilled his bowl with soup.

"I don't think she means much of what she says, actually." Fatefiend responded, "Though if you say that to her, she'll try to hurt you."

"She's got a very…unique personality." Root commented as he ate.

"Course she does…why else do you think we'd get along?" He shrugged and looked over at the dreaming figure of Redsplash. "She my best friend, though."

"I wasn't aware you had any others."

Fatefiend snorted. "When I was a prince, I certainly did. Or there were several that wanted to be my friend. But, real friends? Those were very hard to come by. In fact, in my life, I've only had two. Redsplash and Adthe."

"Adthe?"

"Yes. I grew up with him…I haven't seen him since I fled my father's castle. I wonder if he's still alive…"

"Strange friendships…when you have to wonder if the other is still alive."

Fatefiend laughed at that, though a bit bitterly. "Strange life, when you have to wonder if your father is still hunting you or not."

"I imagine he is, if any of the stories I have heard about his stubbornness are accurate." Root replied ruefully, remembering the whispered memories the foxes had used to share with each other across the many fires Root had been forced to create for them. They had fought against the Nameless One when he first arrived on the shores but, after the first battle or two, they had deserted their doomed army, and, after hearing the stories, even Root could not blame them.

"Stubborn? My father? No…my father is no more stubborn than Redsplash is insane…" Fatefiend said with a wide grin and bitter shake of his swollen head.

"Odd, that most think that your father is stubborn, and that I'm thoroughly convinced of Redsplash's insanity."

"No, my father is not stubborn. He is smart. He knows very well that if he lets me or Redsplash continue with our freedom, he will look weak, or at least weaker than before. And if he looks weaker, then he has to deal with more rebellions and insurrections, and the like. Not that he cares, or that he could be defeated, but it would be a waste of time to him." This was said bitterly, and Fatefiend seemed to hate his father far more than he hated anything else. It was strange, Root thought, that one could hate someone in their own family so much, but, then, Root couldn't remember his, so he supposed he had no right to judge.

"Oh."

"And, as for Redsplash, she isn't insane. She has no common sense, that's for sure, and so much pride she can act insane sometimes. I think she's afraid, really, but I don't know what of. Her life, as much of it as I know, has never been what anyone would call easy or peaceful, so I think peace makes her uneasy. She doesn't like to trust and she doesn't like it when others trust her."

"Do you know anything about her past?" Root questioned mildly, remembering Fatefiend joke about the fact that Redsplash, too, could be exiled royalty.

"Only that she was enslaved as cub, before I even arrived at my father's castle. Her family was never enslaved with her, so I always supposed she was taken from them…but when I asked if she wanted to search them out last season, she said we would only be searching for graves. That makes no sense, though, because the Nameless One always needs more slaves. If she was taken as a cub, then her family must have been adults when they found her. They would have taken them too. I think she was lying about that."

"Why? What else could be the truth?" Root asked curiously. He did not think of Redsplash as much a liar, though, considering that it was Redsplash they were talking about, he didn't suppose there was much Redsplash wouldn't do to ease her own life.

"Well, she could have been stolen from her family, as I originally thought, or her family could have simply abandoned her. There is another possibility…that her own family sold her into slavery, but I doubt that. I've never been able to figure it out, and she gets violent whenever I bring it up." Fatefiend admitted with a shrug.

"Redsplash violent. Oh, how my imagination stretches just to picture that." Root remarked bitterly with a roll of his leaf-green eyes.

Fatefiend snorted. "Eh, so she's a bit violent. Doesn't mean she's not a good friend."

"I don't think she's a friend at all." Root answered.

Fatefiend scowled at that, the humor draining from his face. "Watch that, mate. Redsplash may not be brilliant, or even all that nice, but she is the best friend I've ever had, or ever deserved. She's saved me more times than I care to count. Now, granted, she was always rather rude to me and called me vicious names while she was at it, but it's the principle of the thing that matters. No, she's not perfect, but, of all the creatures I know, Redsplash is the one I trust most to save my neck if it's ever in danger."

Root took this in silence, and then nodded mutely. For a long time he was silent and then, his tone more apologetic than anything, finally spoke. "I don't imagine I've seen the same side of her you have."

"Probably not. She's not overly fond of new acquaintances." Fatefiend answered, his tone light once more. So that was how they apologized in this little cult of theirs, Root observed, by apologizing properly it at all.

"I'm surprised you survived so many of the darts, if you're allergic to it." Root said quietly after several seconds of oddly companionable silence.

"Are you joking? It takes far more than a bit of sharpened sticks with poison dribbled on them to kill me. I'm invincible, you know."

"Are you?" Root asked, wondering if Fatefiend really thought he was.

"Oh, yes, right up until the day I die." The ferret answered with a wide grin, and then, suddenly, the grin was replaced with a curious look. "Why didn't the poison bother you?"

Root's mind snapped back to the squirrel maiden dressed in white that he asked him if he had come back. The squirrel hadn't really thought about it, had been actively avoiding that, actually, but now the entire scene replayed in his mind. He would have liked to ponder seriously on that for a very long time, but the ferret was sitting there expectantly, waiting for an answer, and so Root, much to his shame, lied.

"I dunno. Maybe I'm just immune to it, like you can be immune to some diseases." Root answered uneasily, forcing his eyes not to shift back and forth uneasily.

Fatefiend stared at him, his facial expression saying quietly obviously he knew the squirrel was lying. "Oh, all right, mate. If you say so."

"I think I'm just going to get some sleep." Root said, and practically jumped to his feet.

"Goodnight then, and if you feel a screaming nightmare coming on, gag yourself." Fatefiend answered with a yawn and began the process of the killing the fire.

Root did not feel that deserved an answer, and so he bounded several paces away, dug into the sand a bit, and then collapsed into it, unable to believe, suddenly, how completely tired he was. He did not even have time to ponder deeply the meeting in the woods.