Screams and cries echoed through the southwestern fringe of Mossflower wood as the invading vermin showed no mercy. The squirrels put up as good a fight as they could, but they had been taken off guard, and already many were slain.
Madrin had been one of the first to fall. His son listened closely, blinking back tears, as his father gave last instructions.
"Go... warn the Strongpaws. Maybe... they can escape... in time," he said.
"Yes, Father," the young squirrel replied.
He bounded off through the nearby trees, heading in the direction of the clearing where the Strongpaws lived. As he flew through the trees, he smelled smoke and dared not think of what must be happening to the dreys.
He dropped to the lower branches, coughing slightly. He suddenly felt a piercing pain in his thigh that caused him to lose his balance, sending him toppling even lower. He grasped a flimsy branch with his paws and quickly looked down. He had been shot; an arrow through his upper leg.
He struggled to get atop the branch and heard vermin down below.
"Got 'im!" one cried.
"On'y the leg, idiot. Finish 'im off!" the other growled.
Panicking, the squirrel finally managed to climb painfully on top of the branch and scurry up to higher branches. His leg screamed in protest, but he didn't stop. An arrow whizzed by.
He climbed higher.
Arftail and Hawkeye searched the trees for the squirrel that escaped them. Hawkeye saw him first.
"There!" he said, pointing.
Arftail drew his arrow and sighted the flash of pale fur. The squirrel moved again, causing the arrow to miss. He grabbed another arrow and sighted quickly. He released and watched the squirrel fall, draped over a branch, with an arrow to its side.
Perfect, he thought to himself. He was one of Sinew's best archers, and Hawkeye one of his best scouts. They had been paired to pick off escapees. The squirrel didn't move any more.
"You reckon it's dead, Hawk?"
"I would 'ope so. Anyways, I'm not checkin', and it looks outta arrer range, eh?"
"Aye."
"We've done our job, now let's look fer any others."
The squirrel painfully rose from the branch after he was sure the vermin were gone. He gritted his teeth and pulled the arrow from his side, clapping his hand over the wound so the blood flow would lessen.
After a quick look at his leg, he decided it would be safer to leave the arrow in, for it was staunching the blood flow nicely, and he wasn't sure he had the strength to break it anyway. The thought of pulling it out the same way it went in made him even more lightheaded then he was already.
The loss of blood from the side wound made him dizzy and weak, but he continued through the trees as fast as he could, numb to the pain, and thinking, Strongpaws. Get to the Strongpaws and tell them to run. He had enough wits to keep to the high branches and watch for vermin as he headed toward where the Strongpaws lived.
Er, so... first chapter of my first story...
Read and Review, please, so I know what to make better!
THANKS!
InChrist-Billios