Mender's Tale

by The Rhombus

Based upon a roleplay with Historian1912 and set in the Seven Hunters continuity. Mender has the reputation as being the best healer in the Mysterious Beyond, helping all who require it, but that was not always the case. Follow Mender as she recalls how a lowly fastbiter eventually found her place in life once she met a most unusual pack. This is Mender's Tale.

42. Chapter 34b: The Sheer Cliffs (part 2)

-v-

And now for the conclusion of chapter 34... enjoy!

---

Chapter 34: Part Two

On the land below the bluffs:

Mender checked the various plants that she had stuffed in the vines wrapped around her then checked them again. Did I forget anything? I think I got it all. Better check if everyone else does, too. "Are we missing anything?" she asked.

Cynnil was the first to respond. "I have no-pain leaves, blood-sap, vines, and… does anyone have our supply of the Orange Death antidote?"

"I got it," Buse affirmed as he handed her some of the distinct-looking leaves, "We are just packing the stuff for battle injuries, right?"

"I hope so; I only have so much room on my back!" Orchid muttered, which made Buse snort. Against his purple feathers the vines and carefully stored leaves stood out like a female fastrunner in a desert. It was a good thing none of them were going for stealth in this operation.

"Does anyone have any of the thick mud?" Mender asked, "I don't want anyone getting injured because someone panicked and tried to slash us."

Orchid patted himself down, momentarily concerned. But then, with a bit too much force, he removed a covered handful of clay. "Got it!"

"Yep, we have all packed that," Cynnil noted, "It has been a long time since we had to prepare for healing after a battle."

"Yeah, ever since we responded to the aftermath of the mountain packs bashing heads," Buse noted.

Okay, so it sounds like we're ready as far as healing plants go. What else is there? I checked the eggs again a little while ago, and they seemed fine. We've got our plants. Cynnil and Buse look like they're ready to move forward if they need to. Orchid... Oh, boy. I better go talk to him. Mender glanced back towards the eggs again. I guess I can check them again one more time after this.

"Hey, Orchid?" Mender asked.

Orchid nearly threw the clay which was in his hands before regaining his composure and hastily stowing it back under the tightened vines on his back. "M-mender?"

"Are you alright?" Mender asked, deciding to be direct, "We're not going up to the fighting itself, Orchid."

The fastrunner appeared unsure for a moment before nodding. "I know… it's just. Well, I've never done this before. Well, besides, you know…" He rubbed his crest awkwardly at the unspoken implication. Besides that time we thought you were dying.

"Yeah, I know," Mender replied. I'd love to know what you guys actually did, though, because it worked really well. "You'll do fine. We'll be dealing with the injured ones that can walk back here. Buse and Cynnil will help the ones that can't get back here on their own."

Cynnil walked beside her, fixing Orchid with a reassuring smile as he looked at her and Buse with concern. "And we will be fine. We have some defenders who will be with us."

"Some of the ankle-biters?" Buse asked with concern.

"No, don't worry." Cynnil snorted with amusement. "Haven and Ponder volunteered to cover our backs, and they can also help hold on to any jerking limbs."

Buse calmed down slightly. "Good. Being ripped open would really ruin my day, you know?"

"So would getting hit by a spear, so please pay attention when you're out there," Mender said.

"We will watch one another's back, as always," Cynnil replied with perhaps more bravado than she felt, "But we shouldn't keep Haven and Ponder waiting. It's time for us to move out."

"Good luck," Orchid affirmed with an almost solemn demeanor.

"Best of luck to you two as well. If Fate is on our side, then we will just have to stop a few bleeds," Cynnil affirmed before she and Buse proceeded to walk towards the assembled mob of fastbiters some distance away.

Mender watched as the two hidden runners left. Stay safe. Once she couldn't see them anymore she walked back to where the eggs she'd been guarding remained somewhat hidden. Good, they're still covered. Nothing's disturbed. One less thing to worry about. At least until they hatch. But what kind of world are they going to hatch into? She glanced concernedly in the direction Buse and Cynnil had gone. I've got a bad feeling I'm about to find out.

---

Some distance behind the two footers:

"You ready for this, Frono?" Oron asked with a sideways glance at his sister.

"Of course I am, tails-for-brains! These hidden bastards aren't so scary when they have a stick in them."

Though Verant was not looking at Oron, he could deduce that he was rolling his eyes at his sister's antics. They're not that scary when you know where they are, Verant thought, It's finding them before they hit you that's the problem.

"I appreciate the spirit, pack. But let's keep focused. We need to make sure we stick the enemy and not our allies," Leap suddenly interrupted in a voice that was equal parts reassuring and cautionary. Verant was not surprised when the green fastbiter stopped right before he reached Verant's side. "Seeker reports that everyone is in position. Spotter has some of the allied flyers running interference in the skies. So we should not have any aerial surprises."

"You sound concerned," Verant said.

Leap sighed. "My mate is one of the volunteers for the healer escorts. It is one thing to have her in a pack group, but quite another to be going solo with a healer. Ponder is also volunteering."

"Well, that's better than what we're about to be doing. The fight should end up moving away from them since they should only be worrying about the injured," Verant said, "And if the fight won't move on its own, we'll just have to make it happen."

Leap nodded. "Well, hopefully there will be no surprises. Should I continue the briefing, sir?"

"Unless you expect me to do it," Verant said jokingly, "Any idea where the hidden runners are at the moment?"

Leap snorted in amusement before stepping forward until he was right behind Verant. He then pointed at something past the two-footers. "Soar said that some of them are retreating into the jungle, but several of them are sneaking towards the two-footers."

"Then we should go out and meet them!" a young biter's voice called out.

Leap looked at the young biter with a bemused expression. "Someone did not pay attention to the meeting." He then looked at Verant apologetically. "Should I refresh them, or you?"

"Only if you think they'll do something stupid otherwise," Verant said, "They should be fine."

Leap looked around for a moment. "Besides youthful enthusiasm, how are things here at the tip of the sharpened stick?"

"Surprisingly dull, actually," Verant said.

Leap shook his head. "Probably not for long."

Of that I have no doubt, Verant thought.

Caw!"

Leap and Verant shared a look. That was the signal to prepare to ambush.

"Alright, everyone. Move up to the tall grass, quick and quiet," Verant ordered, "Stay between our overly large friends."

---

Grimace's group:

Come on… we aren't going to get the prey if we are staring at one another's ass!

The grey fastbiter's eyes were barely visible through the tall grass as he peered with all of his might through the front line of his "hunting party". Though he could not argue with Grimace's logic in sending him and some of the others to the back, it still gnawed at his tail.

This is a stealth mission, lads, and we are going to be treading through grass. Best to have the green ones up front.

White Eye took a deep breath. It's like I am reliving being taught how to hunt! I have better not be stuck staring at Grimace's ass this entire time! What kind of pack name would that earn me? Tail Biter?

"Stop worrying," a crimson-colored fastbiter whispered at White Eye, "We're going to surprise them and win the fight all by ourselves."

White Eye rolled his eyes. "You might have to eat your way through chunky's ass up there to get a chance at this rate, Bloodsnout." He not so subtly gestured with his snout at the large fastbiter a few body lengths ahead of him.

"We'll get our chance. Remember, we're the ones that got the special job. Would you have rather been stuck nest-sitting the two-footers?" Bloodsnout asked.

White Eye tilted his head a bit as the group cautiously moved forward through the grass. "True. I wonder who Verant pissed off to get that job."

"I don't know, but whoever it is is stuck with him," Bloodsnout said with a shudder.

White Eye couldn't help but shudder as well. Well, this could be worse, I suppose. At least I am not that guy.

"Chirr-up"

White eye and everyone else came to a sudden halt and fell to the ground upon the barely hissed command. It was one of the first lessons they had learned from their commander: how to interpret this nondescript flyer call as a message. A message which meant only one thing: stop and hit the dirt.

White Eye forced his tail to not curl into a possible stealth-ruining tail-smile as he gripped his spear forcefully. Maybe things are finally about to get started!

It only took a split second for Grimace's gruff face to peer through the grass at his troupe of young biters. "Basher and I will try to spot the hidden runners' location. You all need to stay put and keep your ears and eyes open." And then, with a nod to someone White Eye could not see, Grimace's disappeared into the grass once more.

White Eye suppressed a sigh. More waiting… but at least the hunt was in sight.

A soft groan could be heard to his right, which made White Eye give his neighbor a look. The grey hide of a mountain pack member greeted him. "It is odd waiting for the consensus of one for a hunt."

White Eye could only blink at him.

"What's so odd about it?" Bloodsnout asked, "You can't have everyone deciding what to do on their own."

Oh, White Eye thought, so the mountain biter was talking about Grimace delaying. Why couldn't he just come out and say that? "One leads; such is the way," he finally offered reluctantly.

The mountain biter merely shrugged. "I suppose that is the way of the lowlands."

This made another biter glance at the mountain biter. Though his eyes conveyed curiosity, the slight tremor in his tail conveyed anxiety. "And how do your people do it?"

"We take turns. If someone is not fit to lead, then they are not fit to be with us."

"Your loss," Bloodsnout said with a shrug.

White Eye put the conversation out of his mind as he shifted his focus back to the task at hand. Weird or not, the mountain biter is ready for this… I just hope the others are stronger than they look. He glanced at the blue biter to his left as he continued to shake slightly.

"They'll be fine. They're just nervous. I can't say that I'm not, either," Bloodsnout admitted.

White Eye nodded as he heard his friend's whisper. "As am I, my friend. I just hope they can do what needs to be done." He then turned to face Bloodsnout. "We already know what we are capable of… but these are new pack."

"To them, we are new pack," Bloodsnout reminded his friend.

This made White Eye nod as he gave the slightest hint of a tail-smile. "True… I guess we all have a lot to prove, huh?"

"Chirr-up"

All conversation quickly ended as Grimace's call could barely be heard in the distance. Was this…

"Chirrrrrrrr"

White Eye narrowed his eyes as he gave both Bloodsnout and his mountain biter counterpart a reassuring nod. It was now time.

Happy hunting, pack.

Without a word the young biters began to move forward.

---

Nearby:

"Why, look at those tricky fuckers!"

The hidden runner peered over the grass to see what the scout had noticed. Despite his speed he could not see anything out of the ordinary besides some swaying grass in the distance. Perhaps his counterpart was being a bit jumpy?

But that was when he saw the slightest hint of red through the verdant carpet of grass. Ah… an ambush from that direction? Well, time to change plans then!

The only warning Varon had that the plans had changed was when his father's fist collided with his shoulder. "Father?"

Karifon smiled. "Fate has chosen a new target for us. Get our comrades to the other side of the herd and chase them towards our company."

Varon blinked as the other hidden runners froze in confusion at the sudden disruption. But, then, noticing the look in his eyes, he nodded slowly and put his hand on his father's shoulder.

"Happy hunting, father."

Karifon merely nodded in a slow action towards his son, conveying in one motion what he dared not communicate through words. A gesture that everyone present would understand: my son is now my legacy, and he is now your commander. Then, without wasting any time, he charged into the tall grass… with a red fastbiter on his mind.

When Fate chooses a runner's time, it directs him to the proper place.

And he knew that he would not be entering the Great Beyond alone.

---

Grimace's group:

Keep your eyes focused ahead… your packmates are covering your sides…

Grimace's voice echoed in Bloodsnout's mind as he forced himself to walk forward at a steady pace, neither overtaking the packmate in front of him or the packmate behind him. Though all that could be heard was the pounding of his excited heart in this moment and the gentle rustling of the grass, Grimace's voice almost sounded real as opposed to a memory.

A deep exhalation from beside him made him aware of his own breathing as he forced himself to take in a deep breath. Azure's nervousness from earlier now made a lot more sense. He could only hope for the sake of the hunting party's left side that he kept his wits about him.

To his right, he knew, walked White Eye. Though he could not spare his friend a glance without neglecting his duties, he knew that his other side was as good as secure. Which meant, as Grimace had said during training, he could focus on his task.

Being careful to not nick his comrade in front of him, Bloodsnout held his sharpened stick no more than a head-length to the right side of his counterpart. The logic behind this was simple, if more than one hidden runner tried to slip through then there was another spear ready to meet the enemy, but if his counterpart needed to swerve to evade a strike, then he had some room to his left. The important part of the task before them was to behave as if the pack were a spiketail… and to maintain the ability to strike from all sides. Once the ambush was on then they would have more support.

Bloodsnout tightened the grip on his spear. I'm sure we will take care of the hidden bastards before Verant's group is done chasing their tails.

Suddenly a horrific shriek not unlike that of a dying tiny biter split the air. Its high pitched wail was complemented by a low growl that seemed to vibrate Bloodsnout's bones.

The pack crouched down immediately, keeping their spears at the ready.

What the fuck was that?"

He was answered by a sharp hiss from in front of them. "Up! They're trying to spook us or the spiketails. Keep moving forward!"

Grimace's voice seemed to make the courage that had previously resided in Bloodsnout's chest again peek through its hiding place. Hesitantly, the pack arose once more and began to move forward once again. Though this time it was with some noticeable shaking in their spears.

This was different than last time.

For the next several moments Bloodsnout was again greeted with only the sound of the tall grass rustling as they walked through it, and his still racing heart. His snout also did not help with the claustrophobic feeling of having no place to run or hide against this unseen enemy. The only thing he could smell right now was everyone's fear.

For my pack I will fight to the end. My pack brothers are my brothers, and my pack sisters are my sisters. I resolve to die worthy of my pack name.

Bloodsnout's breathing began to slow as he remembered the pledge that he had heard as a youngling when a newcomer joined his family pack. Though he was not yet of pack name, he now realized what it meant. Whether he got his name as a victorious fastbiter or as a corpse, he resolved to be worthy of his.

He rubbed his hands across the shaft of the sharpened stick as he reaffirmed his grip.

An enraged roar erupted an indeterminable distance in front of them, only confirming that they were approaching the spiketail herd… or the herd was approaching them. The roar was quickly followed by a yell, which then terminated suddenly. There was no doubt that they had heard the final exclamation of someone.. Whether it be friend or foe.

"Keep forward…." Grimace muttered as the pack continued on. What had frozen them in fear earlier now seemed to propel them forward. The despair of the unknown had turned into the acceptance of the inevitable.

The battle was coming, one way or another.

"I think I've got something," White Eye said, pausing for a second to take a better sniff of the air, "They're getting close."

Before Bloodsnout could relax Grimace made another imitation flyer call. The meaning was obvious: be prepared to attack any movement. Even if any of them had any intention of being disgraced and fleeing, that chance was gone now. They had to fight.

Bloodsnout allowed his eyes to trace any potential movement in the relatively short range that was his responsibility. He was an extra spear and an extra pair of eyes to his comrade in front.

He barely had time to process the flash of green in front of him before he instinctively let out a warning screech at his counterpart up front. Before he could even finish the screech, however, the hidden runner appeared in all of his glory in a headlong, suicidal charge. The complete lack of self-preservation was so horrifying that it almost made Bloodsnout forget his training and freeze in terror.

Almost.

The hidden runner's eyes did not lose focus on Bloodsnout as he seemingly willingly ran straight into both his and his counterpart's spears, impaling his own body before anyone could even manage an offensive move. Bloodsnout was so transfixed by this horrific scene that he barely had enough time to swerve out of the way of the hidden runner's released spear.

Several terrified gasps could be heard as the pack processed what had just happened. They were soft sounds compared to the raspy, choked gurgles that were coming from the now impaled and elevated corpse that now resided on two spears.

"New sticks!"

Bloodsnout acted on instinct at Grimace's order as he dropped the hidden runner and his old spear to the ground. Without a word he grabbed the new stick that someone placed into his hands. It was only now that the moment of terror had passed that he could process what had happened.

That was way too close…

"Looks like you will get a good scar out of that, Bloodsnout!"

Bloodsnout was quickly shaken out of his battle-imposed stupor as he turned to look at what Azure was noticing. Sure enough, there was a distinct streak of blood on his right flank. Though it was jarring that the pain only was noticed once he saw it, the injury itself was nothing severe.

Bloodsnout turned back to the front. "Eh, just a scratch."

White Eye, on the other hand, tapped his counterpart at the front with a double-tap on the tail as he moved to look at something on the ground.

"What's this?" White Eye asked, noticing some odd coloration on the wood below the point. He stood up suddenly, eyes wide in panic. "We need a healer up here now!"

Bloodsnout was ready to tell his friend to calm down. After all, in a battle far worse injuries than a cut in one's side was possible. But there was something in White Eye's voice and mannerisms that told him that something was seriously amiss. As such, when someone else tapped him twice on the tail, he did not hesitate to let them take his place on the line.

It was only when he turned around that he noticed what White Eye was gesturing at; the spear was covered in a distinctly orange substance.

White Eye remained in the rear-guard position when the pack started moving again, as everyone realized that the only way to get their injured packmate to a healer was to move towards the healers, and therefore towards the enemy.

"Hang in there, Bloodsnout! We will all get through this fight!" White Eye soothed as the line moved forward with their injured comrade in the middle. Though for Bloodsnout the possible end of this battle was far more than an abstract threat.

Bloodsnout merely focused on putting one foot in front of another as they advanced towards the unseen enemy. All the while he tried to ignore the growing pain in his flank.

---

Near the two-footers:

"Dumb hidden runners. They can't even hunt right."

A loud snort emanated from the massive purple sharptooth as he fixed Grunt with an annoyed expression. "Grunt, you do realize they aren't hunting, right?"

"Then what are they doing, Purple Ass?"

"They are trying to get the spiketails to stampede towards us. Maybe we will finally get to see your 'famed' hunting skills after all?"

Down below the towering carnivores stood four much less conspicuous forms. Two hidden runners that, unlike the others in the tall grass, no one was actively waiting to attack. Beside each of them stood a fastbiter, one pink and one green.

"If that's what they're trying to do, they're making a mess of it," Buse muttered to himself, trying to ignore the bizarre conversation the two-footers were having, They're going to end up driving them away from here from what little I can see. One less problem for us, I guess.

"I am not sure that is what they are doing, because if they are then they are not doing it," Ruby noted, "It looks like they are trying to spook them in the other direction."

"That is not good, oh no no no. Our flyers need to warn them," Ducky lamented.

"And tell them to do what, exactly?" Ruby asked as the spiketails began to move in a steady trot as their collective mentality began to roll in one direction, "The herd is too big to evade, and they can charge for longer than we can sprint."

Ducky nodded. "But we can run faster. So if Grimace sends them to the bluffs now, then they might have a chance!"

Caw!

Both fastbiters looked up at the same moment as Soar sent out a stampede alert above where they believed Grimace's pack to be. Despite the severity of the situation they both seemed to calm down.

Ruby sighed. "Well, it is up to Grimace now. Hopefully he has enough sense to do the sensible thing."

Buse, meanwhile, looked at Cynnil with concern. "But what do we do if they end up with injured?"

Cynnil gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Buse. We have not gotten an alert from them, so we will just follow the other packs until they meet up with Grimace's. If Grimace does the right thing here, then I think most of the injured will be with the others."

Buse looked at her with an exasperated expression. "Yeah, because that means the hidden runners with murder sticks are coming our direction, right? That's reassuring."

This made Ducky laugh openly as she looked down at the hidden runner healer. "Well, there are a lot of nice fastbiters with murder sticks backing us up, Buse, so it isn't that bad."

Buse glanced up and noticed that Soar wasn't heading towards the bluffs. Wait a moment. If Soar isn't heading towards the bluffs, that means that Grimace's pack isn't there. Which means he didn't retreat.

"What the heck is he doing?" Ruby muttered, as if confirming his thoughts.

He couldn't help but cringe when he heard the next alert call from Soar. This can't be good.

Cynnil clicked her beak in exasperation. That was the urgent healer call.

"Alright, one of us needs to stay here for the other packs, but the other…"

Buse interrupted her, "I'll go."

Ducky and Cynnil both looked at him in surprise. But whether it was the certainty in his voice or the lack of time, neither of them protested. Instead, Ruby pounded the ground twice with her foot to confirm that she was ready for the imminent run.

"Let's go, then," Buse said to Ruby, sounding more confident than he felt.

I am so going to regret this.

"Oh, this is not good."

"Let's not make it worse," Verant said before Leap could say anything else, "Everyone stay where you are. With the spiketails rushing, there's not much we can do. Wait until we can get at the hidden runners."

Leap nodded and affirmed the directive before anyone could protest. "Those are your orders."

Frono quickly closed the mouth that she had just opened.

Leap, meanwhile, gave Verant a look. "What if they retreat after causing the stampede?"

"Then we go after them once the spiketails aren't right in front of us," Verant said, "There's no point in trying to kill the enemy if we get crushed before we even get near them."

Leap could only silently nod at this as the sounds of the growing stampede erupted all around them.

---

Grimace's group

"We don't have time to get to the bluff! Stay together and advance!"

Spears which had been arranged shaft to shaft were now instead aimed upwards as every fastbiter tried to keep pace with their comrades. What had been a steady trot now turned into a sprint as the horrific screeches from earlier faded into memory. What now stood in its place was a steady, indistinct growling that seemed to come from the ground itself. A growl which now began to vibrate White Eye's legs from the bones outwards. A growl which made Grimace's commands fade into the background as if they were of no consequence.

All the while, the struggling form of his friend filled his vision. His legs were sprinting forward, but his head was no longer steady. It was as if he could collapse at any moment.

This idiot is going to get us all killed, White Eye thought, The spiketails are just going to run right over us.

"Let's let the spiketails know we're here," White Eye all but ordered, hoping to encourage those around him.

There was no immediate reaction as the growling became a steady roar, being felt more than it was heard. It was as if everyone were running more out of fear than anything else. All the while Bloodsnout began to sway to the left...

White Eye quickly extended both arms while dropping his spear, smacking his nearest packmates with unexpected force. This sent both of them hurdling into their counterparts, causing his line and the rear guard to fall over themselves. It was a miracle that no one was impaled.

"They're going to run us down if we keep this up! Raise your spears and make some noise!"

Though he was initially greeted by confused stares, those soon disappeared as his words registered in their minds. Without any objections or further hesitation his comrades grabbed their spears and began to jump up and down, letting out horrific roars in the process at the yet unseen stampede.

White Eye finally caught his breath in that moment as the reality of the situation hit him full force. He had just disobeyed his assigned deputy, the stampede was still coming, and Bloodsnout…

He barely had time to react when he saw his friend collapse to the ground.

White Eye rushed to help his friend, ignoring the approaching spiketails. Where are the healers?

Nothing answered his unspoken question, not his screaming comrades, nor the roaring rampage of death that was rapidly approaching their location. Instead the only being that seemed to notice him was the twitching fastbiter underneath him. As White Eye looked into the face of his friend all that he could see in terms of understanding was the expression in his eyes. An expression of pure, unadulterated terror.

"You're going to be fine," White Eye said, "The healers are coming. You're going to be fine." The flyers should notice what's going on and get the healers. Now if they'd just hurry. Why didn't Grimace keep a healer with us?

---

By the two-footers and Verant's group:

"Still with me, Buse?"

The pink fastbiter did not bother to look back as she maintained the fastest speed that her legs could sustain. Something between a trot and sprint.

"I'm... right... behind you," Breeze panted, falling a step behind with each word.

"Just follow me and the bluff's edge!" Ruby reassured as she swerved to avoid an outcropping in the rock wall to her left. "If we can avoid the tall grass, then we can avoid an ambush! We can't help anyone who is dying if we are dying!"

Buse glanced towards the bluff's edge and realized where Ruby was trying to go. Between the tall grass and the edge was a decently large area with grass that was too short for a hidden runner to hide in. Not wasting any time he shifted his path towards the conspicuous rock wall that split the ground for miles around. There was no missing the Sheer Cliff Bluffs, but he could only hope that the enemy missed him.

He ignored his burning lungs and tired legs as he pushed himself forward, going relentlessly on.

"Slow up!"

Buse nearly tripped as he tried to slow down. He belatedly realized Ruby was no longer in front of him and frantically started to look around.

Which was quickly aborted when the fastbiter put a hand on his shoulder, making his jump in panic. That was when he noticed her outstretched hand.

"You see that?"

Buse quickly followed her gesture to the stampede ahead, which looked little more than spiketail silhouettes against a backdrop of unleashed dust. A sight which a hidden runner like him would be running away from as opposed to advancing towards. However, something odd was noticeable about the stampede.

"Yeah. Why are the spiketails doing that?" Bused asked, confused by the herbivores' veering to either the left or right of a seemingly random spot up ahead.

"Some spiketail must have fallen. And if I were Grimace I know where I would send my injured," Ruby noted solemnly, "I think that is where we should go."

"With the spiketails out there?" Buse asked worriedly.

Ruby shook her head. "Once they pass. We can't do any good if we are trampled."

Can't argue with that, Buse thought, I hope the others get out in time.

---

By the remainder of the pack:

"Here comes Spotter, sir!"

Littlefoot nearly knocked Taunt over as his counterpart alerted him to the arrival of the flyer. Within mere seconds the freshly-landed flyer was confronted with the pack leader.

"What happened out there, Spotter?" Littlefoot kept his voice even, but despite this it still radiated with tension.

"The hidden runners did what we feared. Spiketails stampede toward Grimace, and he not go to bluffs!"

Taunt gave his mate a concerned look as she nodded in silent agreement with his unsaid assessment. Someone seriously messed up here.

Littlefoot took a deep breath. "Any sign of the hidden runners?"

Petrie opened his beak to speak, but then quickly closed it.

"We can't help Grimace now, Spotter! The best that we can do is fight the enemy so they aren't snooping around when we find his group again."

Taunt sighed before looking behind him and raising his spear twice. At the quick reminder, several of the assembled fastbiters again resumed their ready stance. Just in time as well, as the remaining deputies quickly looked over to make sure their lines were in formation.

Fear is contagious. We need to get these biters in battle before they get second thoughts.

It was at this point that Taunt paid attention to the conversation once more.

"It look like they waiting on stampede to wipe out Grimace's group. Then they finish up what remains."

"In that case waiting here as bait is not an option. They called our bluff, and now we need to protect our own," Littlefoot affirmed.

Petrie nodded slowly. "Seeker, there are healers…"

"We have to risk it, Spotter," Littlefoot affirmed in a tired voice, "We either risk them getting speared by accident, or we risk them being faced with those hidden bastards when the stampede ends."

Littlefoot then looked at the dust cloud in the distance. Though Taunt could not see his face from his vantage point behind him, he had no doubt what he was doing. Even in a hopeless scenario he had no doubt that his pack leader would still seek out the possibility of victory, or at least to protect those he loved.

"Give the attack call," was all Littlefoot said in the end.

---

Verant's group:

Caw!

What is Seeker thinking? Verant wondered, Does he even know where the hidden runners are?

"Spears forward!" Leap called from just behind Verant. As if on cue spear tips promptly appeared around and between Verant and Leap, forming a solid wall of sharpened sticks. It was only then that Leap stepped forward to join Verant.

"Where should we advance? This is not part of the plan," Leap noted.

"Head for Grimace's group. Something is happening over there," Verant said.

It was then that Verant noticed that one of the two-footers was moving forward.

"What are you doing, Grunt?" Chomper's gruff voice inquired.

"If you tail-chasers want to stay put, that is on you. But I plan on getting fed today!"

Grunt then continued forward in a steady cadence, leaving Chomper and Astar behind. As Astar took a few steps forward, however, Chomper shook his head.

"All it takes is one stick, and we go down. We need the ankle biters for this."

It was just then that Frono's voice mocked the proceedings. "So that one is bait then?"

The sounds of raucous laughter greeted Verant as some of the nervous tension was broken despite the severe situation. Nonetheless, as a leader, he had to nip this now so that his warriors could focus on the fight ahead.

"That's it! Let's use him as bait!"

"Use him as what?" Verant asked, surprised and confused by Leap's suggestion. How do you use a two-footer as bait?

"They will go after the big guy and that is when we can strike!" Leap exclaimed as he gestured at the Sheer Cliff Bluffs, "We cover our rear and right side, and then wait for them to go after Grunt!"

"That'll get us closer to Grimace, anyway," Verant said, "and maybe make things a bit easier for him." It was then that he saw Ducky and Cynnil rushing towards them.

"Follow us and stay close," he told the two healers, "Pack, form lines and move up."

Without another word, Ducky and Cynnil moved to the group's left, the side which would be shielded by the Sheer Cliff Bluffs. The group, meanwhile, began to move forward as if united by a single mind. Gone was the playful banter of earlier.

The time for talking had ended.

---

Grimace's group:

"They're almost on top of us!"

"We're going to die!"

The fearful cries of the young fastbiters barely registered over the constant deafening roar that appeared to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The stampede was almost upon them.

"Go for the neck of the closest one," Grimace ordered. If we can kill one we can use it to avoid the other spiketails. If we can't, hopefully it'll cause enough chaos to make them avoid us anyway. The only problem with his plan was that the dust cloud in front of his pack made it difficult to identify any particular spiketail to focus on. The spiketails became more distinct as they got closer, but as the distance decreased, so did the time the pack would have to react.

"There's so many of them!"

The roaring only rose in volume as the exclamation of his packmate faded into incoherence. Within a few more seconds, the pack's spears and Grimace's own bones began to vibrate with the rhythm of the coming disaster. It was then, at this late moment, that Grimace had a horrifying realization.

No time to give orders, Grimace thought. Hurriedly, he threw his spear at the nearest spiketail, aiming for its neck. As if the very passage of time had slowed to a crawl he could see his spear arch in the air before beginning its terminal trajectory towards its target… only for Grimace to realize too late that it was going to miss its target.

Luckily it was at that moment that three other spears embedded themselves into the spiketail's side, while another embedded itself in the beast's left eye.

Yes! We got 'im, Grimace thought.

The spiketail then arched its neck at an impossible angle as a deafening roar erupted from his throat. Then, as several of his comrades collided into his back, the beast entered into an uncontrolled roll, sending him careening into the ground and rolling towards the pack.

Grimace watched the spiketail come to a halt then bolted towards it. "Get behind the spiketail now!" he ordered.

He was unsure if it was his order or his actions which actually registered with his comrades, but within moments several of them joined him as they huddled beside the dying herbivore. All around them, meanwhile, spiketails moved through the grass like a rampaging wildfire. Though instead of ash it left a blinding cloud of dust.

Grimace quickly started counting his packmates. He was relieved to see that none of his front line was unaccounted for, as they looked intact apart from frayed nerves and panicked scents. This relief quickly turned to panic, however, when he began to count the middle line and had to stop at two bodies. I'm missing half my pack. "Where's everyone else?" He started looking around, but he didn't see any sign of them. It didn't help that the spiketails were all around them.

Grimace could only swallow hard as the realization hit him. Much of his group had probably met their end. Not in battle facing the enemy, but at the feet of the spiketails. All because of a hidden runner trick.

He closed his eyes solemnly. I will avenge you.

---

White Eye's group:

"I think I see them!"

Ruby did not bother to respond as the sight before them spoke for itself. The last of the spiketails were clearing out of this section of the grassland, sparing the bluff face and much of the surrounding area of their continued assault. In place of the previous parting of the spiktails now stood a small section of grass which was not trampled and several colored forms which were waving spears.

"Make sure they see us!" Ruby cautioned as she slowed slightly. Then waving her arms wildly, she awaited any kind of response from the fastbiters which were now about four longneck-lengths away.

One of the fastbiters looked in Ruby's direction then seemed to be saying something to another fastbiter behind him. He then waved his spear in a gesture that was unmistakably waving them in.

"Alright, here we go!" Buse affirmed as both fastbiter and hidden runner rushed to the agitated fastbiter. As they did so several things came into focus very quickly. First, this was not all of Grimace's group and they were making a wide berth around the fastbiter. Second, and most worrisome, the fastbiter was gently stroking the head of a fallen fastbiter.

Ruby slided to a stop, not wanting to slow down for even a moment. "Can you tell us what happened to him?"

Buse, meanwhile, was quickly glancing over the fastbiter, looking for any visible injuries.

"He got hit by a spear with orange death on it," White Eye hurriedly explained.

"Tail hit!" Buse affirmed as he gestured at a gash on the fastbiter's tail.

Ruby, meanwhile, tried to look at the fallen fastbiter's face to see if there was any sign of consciousness. What she got in response was muted murmurs and a vacant look that only focused on her after a few seconds.

"Okay, I need some of you to help me hold him down as I get the antidote into him!" Ruby ordered as she intentionally sat on his forelimbs and got out two strange looking weeds. "It's okay… I'm a healer. I need you to try to swallow this, okay?"

A couple of fastbiters moved to pin their wounded packmate down.

Buse handed her a soft-water sweet without asking. It was not pure water, but it would have to do to wash down the caustic substance down his throat. Then, not wasting any time, she cracked open the soft fruit as she pried open the biters mouth. Then, in one motion, she put the fruit and the leaves into his mouth. The reaction was immediate as Bloodsnout began to spasm violently.

"What's happening to him?" White Eye asked, sounding both angry and panicked at the same time.

"I know it looks bad, but the orange death is worse! The healing plants for this tastes very, very bad," Buse retorted as he struggled to hold the biter's tail.

Ruby, meanwhile, kept her focus on his eyes as she kept his mouth shut, "Easy… easy… you're going to be okay…" She kept the doubt out of her voice. "What is his name?"

"Bloodsnout," White Eye answered.

"It will be alright, Bloodsnout, we are here to help…" Ruby soothed as she stroked his head. The spasms were dying down now. She could not help but notice, however, that the eyes were still not focusing. "Where are the others? Are they injured?"

"We got separated," White Eye explained.

This made Buse look up with concern. "Then we are exposed."

This made Ruby look at White Eye with concern as she continued to hold her patient down, "You need to reform some kind of the line! We might have hidden runners coming in!"

"We will help Bloodsnout. You watch our back." Buse clarified.

"Alright," White Eye replied then started gesturing at his packmates, "Rear line to my left, middle line to my right. Don't let anyone through!"

Within moments the fastbiters had secured their weapons once more, forming a crude half-circle around their stricken packmate and the healers. It was only when the fastbiters were now occupied with their defensive mission that Buse gave Ruby a questioning look. He didn't even have to say anything to get an answer to the obvious question in a hushed whisper.

"I don't think so. Besides Mender I've never seen one this bad off recover."

Buse could only sigh at this as he hastily looked towards the makeshift defensive line to make sure no one had heard them. Upon not seeing any obvious signs he took out another soft-water sweet and proceeded to cleanse the fastbiter's tail. Futile or not, they would do their best.

---

Seeker's group:

"Front lines keep spears out! Middle lines, be prepared to throw!"

As soon as Littlefoot uttered those words Taunt could see the spear to his right grow more rigid in its movements. At the same time he could practically sense the spears behind him all being primed for eventual release. He could only hope when they were thrown that the young biters remembered to keep a good grip. A sharpened stick in the back would really ruin the flow of my day.

"Rear line, be prepared to replace the middle line if they throw!" Taunt then looked at the obviously nervous counterpart next to him, a blue fastbiter that his memories told him was named Cyan. "And remember to throw in a big circle, we don't want sticks in our backs!"

This earned Taunt a few chuckles which at least broke through some of the tension, though it still hung in the air like fog on a spring day. Much like a certain two-footer's ass.

Taunt looked up at the offending posterior as Grunt lumbered slowly forward well ahead of the assembled fastbiters. Biting remarks about two-footer stupidity aside, Grunt's bone-headedness did present them all with an opening. He would be the most inviting of targets for a hidden runner, and with Verant's pack ahead of them, and the other packs bringing up the rear, any hidden runner foolish enough to take the bait would soon regret it.

Not to mention, Grunt was not the most charming personality. It would be nice to see Grunt dropped down a notch.

Great, now I am thinking like my mate. Time to get your head out of her feathers, Taunt, and to focus on the point at hand.

Taunt quickly nudged the spear to his left to the side before it could accidentally smack him in the face. "Steady!"

"Taunt?"

Taunt blinked once before rushing to Seeker's side. "Sir?"

Littlefoot glanced over to give him the slightest of nods, "I've sent the flyers out to find the others and to fly circles if they find them. As soon as that happens we will need to speed up into a trot."

Taunt nodded as the implications were obvious, "That's when we will join our lines."

Littlefoot and Taunt both quickened their pace which, after a brief delay, made their particular battle group speed up as well. It only took a glance to the left and the right to confirm that the other groups were now moving at a similar speed. It was a solid wall of spears with few breaks in the line. And, for what few gaps remained, low flying flyers confirmed that no breaches by hidden runners would go unnoticed.

Thank goodness the fish-munchers owed us from last Warm Time, Taunt thought sardonically.

"You take the rear; keep the back line in order. I will move into my place." Littlefoot affirmed.

Taunt gave his friend a look which communicated volumes. After all, Littlefoot's place was in the first line. Good luck, Seeker.

Taunt then carefully extended his arms to tap on the two spears to his left and right, which were each held by two members of the front line. In response they quickly raised their spears, which made the middle line and the rear do the same. All Taunt had to do then was slow slightly, and the three lines overtook him, leaving him right behind the rear line. Though he mockingly considered his task now as being the "commander of the asses", as he was greeted by nothing but several tails in front of him, he knew that his task was quite serious. He would need to keep the rear line steady so that the three lines did not split apart. And, of course, there was the other task that he did not want to think about.

If Littlefoot was speared, then he would have to take over the battle group at the front.

Taunt took a deep breath. "Steady! Keep pace with your line!"

---

Thump… thump… thump…

There was something about the steady motion of trotting feet which spoke to every fastbiter's instinctual hunting instinct. A fastbiter running with others was a fastbiter in control. It was the hallmarks of what it meant to be part of a pack. Once one was in this mindset, the urge to flee could not be any further away.

Which was the plan that no one else could see. Well, no one besides Taunt.

Thump… thump… thump…

Grass flew by them now, pack-leader and follower alike. It was like a gigantic verdant blanket that brushed against Littlefootr's feathers and his comrades' scales. Both reminding him of the closeness of potential enemies and their inability to see them in advance. It was a thought so horrifying that only the overriding of instinct could subdue to the terror. Only the thrill of the hunt could pacify the desire to turn back.

"Sprint!"

Upon Littlefoot's barked command the entire front line doubled the speed of their run. It had been a technique drilled into them during the trek to this place, with the three unified lines being the only innovation. Now it was time to put it into action.

Caw!

The next few moments appeared to go in slow motion for the brown fastbiter as the front line reacted to the flyer's alert call. Without hesitation, several of their number lowered the aim of their spears to the height where a hidden runner's chest would usually be, whereas the other lines kept their spears at shoulder height, resting their hilts against the shoulders of their comrades to the front. It was then that he heard Taunt shout.

Stick!

Screee!

The scream left no doubt that one of the younglings had been speared, but this made their task all the more obvious. "Kill Kill Kill!"

Upon Littlefoot's cry the line continued to advance without any hesitation. The only sign of disruption was to his left as two fastbiters quickly filled in a sudden hole in the front line.

I hope you are alright, whoever you are.

In the moments that followed Littlefoot had to fight the urge to lose himself in the moment of battle. The rhythmic movement of his feet, the pressure of one of the middle line's spears resting on his shoulders, the need to avenge whoever just fell… it was all so compelling.

But he had a battle to lead.

"Trot!" Littlefoot roared as the line slowed slightly. This allowed the line to reform into its previous linear form, but it also did something else as well. It allowed each individual fastbiter to have time to assess what was in front of them.

"Tails to necks!" Taunt's voice barked out from somewhere behind Littlefoot. The only sign that anything changed was that the spear from the middle line on his shoulder now seemed to be extending further out as the rear line moved back into position. We must have been more disorganized than I had thought.

A screech erupted from the left flank of the line and was quickly silenced by what sounded like feet smashing into mud.

"Replace!" two fastbiters suddenly screeched, which provided clear confirmation of what had occurred. Littlefoot couldn't help but give a slight tail-smile. A hidden runner had been speared, and now the middle line was replacing the successful killers.

Littlefoot, meanwhile, kept looking ahead.

The grass was taller in this area as they gradually approached where the stampede must have started. In the trampled grass, he knew, there would be little room for the enemy to hide. But here in this sea of green the enemy could be in front of his snout, and he would not know until the last moment. As such, he followed the same training as the others. Keep the tip of the spear forward and move it to the left and the right. If you hit anything, stab until it stops moving.

Littlefoot's eyes scanned the grass in front of him, as the spears of his comrades swayed in time with his. Against the grass they acted like a second wind, causing it to sway.

That was when his spear hit something.

The grass in front of him appeared to heave forward out of its own volition as a green beak and feathers appeared between the blades. Before he could even think or process what he was seeing, Littlefoot propelled his spear forward out of instinct. Much to his horror the spear landed with a thud as it refused to embed itself in the enemy's flesh.

"Seeker!"

Time appeared to stand still as the hidden runner's spear advanced towards him. Though his muscles were tensing for an immediate dodge, some part of his startled brain was aware that it would be too little too late. All the while the spear moved closer and closer to Littlefoot's chest.

That was exactly when another spear collided with the hidden runner's unguarded neck, causing the predator's face to contort in a mixture of pain and surprise. All the while the spear's forward motion proceeded on its way with gruesome inevitability.

In the end, Littlefoot felt his body hit the ground before he felt the pain in his shoulder.

And then everything descended into chaos.

"Seeker's hit!"

"We need a healer!"

I'm hit? No, the line needs to keep going, otherwise...

Littlefoot was vaguely aware of a blue fastbiter keeping him pinned down as Taunt's orange form rushed to the front, giving his pack leader a horrified look.

"Keep them moving!" Littlefoot barked as Cyan rushed to dismantle some of his vines.

All Littlefoot could see as Cyan continued his work was Taunt giving the slightest of apologetic nods before sending out a screech into the air. Then, without their pack leader, the battle group continued to move forward with the others. Once more, Littlefoot's heartbeat matched the cadence of the advancing fastbiter.

Thump… thump… thump…

---

Verant's group:

Oh, great. The two-footers are moving towards the things trying to kill them, Verant thought, noticing the trio advancing roughly in the direction he knew the hidden runners to be. I wonder why the other two are keeping some distance from Grunt? Or is it the other way around?

It was at that exact moment that Grunt let out a deafening roar that actually made Verant's front line slow. This was followed by Grunt sniffing at the grass.

"Come out, you worthless cowards!"

Verant relaxed a bit when the other two two-footers moved behind his line. Now if only Grunt would stop making himself a bigger target than one of Staza's tiny biters making a mating call.

It was then that Leap carefully tapped on Verant's shoulder. "Should we advance or wait?"

"Stay low and take half around one side of our friend here," Verant ordered, "I'll take the other half around the opposite side. Keep it slow and steady."

Leap merely tapped him once on the shoulder to confirm the order and then he proceeded to tap on the spears of the front line on his side before gesturing them in that direction and making an exaggerated imitation of a fastbiter walking while ducking.

Verant motioned for the fastbiters still with him to follow. Looking back to make sure they were copying him, he was gratified to note that the other lines were splitting up on their own and following the ones in front of them. If we keep this up we'll be just fine.

It was at exactly that moment that Path's voice roared out. "Come on, Greenies!"

"Cowards!" Astar offered with equal venom. Though, unlike Grunt, they both stayed behind the hidden line of fastbiters.

Where are they? We can't attack what we can't find, Verant thought. He started thinking of ways to flush out the enemy.

The sudden appearance of an orange fastbiter above the grass line was not one of them.

"Make some noise! The hidden shits need some encouragement!"

"Taunt, what the heck…" Cera's voice called out from somewhere to the distant left.

"Just do it!" Taunt affirmed before turning around and shaking his posterior at the unseen enemy, "Bring it, hidden runners!"

It was this that finally did it as Taunt's line rose from the grass and began to wave their spears in the air. All the while letting out a horrifying cacophony of insulting roars. A few seconds later, Cera and Loosejaw's groups did the same.

"Stay quiet," Verant hissed, "We need at least one group that can still surprise them if they attack the others."

Though Leap must have guessed Verant's orders in this matter, it was obvious that the other groups were now fully behind Taunt's confusing strategy of totally giving up the element of surprise. Now the enemy would know exactly where the two main lines were. The plans for the envelopment, as hastily hashed together as they were, were now totally ruined.

Wait a moment... this might actually work, Verant thought, If they hit Taunt's line they won't know we're here, but we'll know where they are and have a chance of surprising them. Taunt, you're either insane or a genius. He froze, startled at the thought. Oh, boy... This is either going to work perfectly, or it's going to end in disaster.

Verant held still, watching for any hint of motion. There was no way he could hear what was coming with all the shouting going on nearby. Every twitch of grass was scrutinized. If I'm seeing danger every time the wind moves the grass, what are the younger ones thinking? He didn't dare look away from the grass in front of him to check.

"There!"

In an instant two of his line rushed forward and extended their spears, while another released his spear in a short arc.

Scree!

More commotion then arose as shouts emanated from Leap's line and then the sound of swooshing and thuds. Pained gasps confirmed yet another hit.

Well, they know where we are now, Verant thought. "Advance!"

With the exception of the two with spent spears, who wisely took their place in the back, the others advanced in a broken line, following Verant's lead. The sound of footsteps to the left confirmed that Leap was following the command as well.

"Alright, run em' out!" Cera cried. This confirmed to Verant that all of the lines were now moving. If the hidden runners did not flee into the trampled grass now then they would be enveloped and exterminated.

Let's hope there's no more surprises this time, Verant thought, I've had enough of surprises.

The line moved forward as if it were a unified organism, with each part knowing its role. This was much different than the first battle. It was something much more organized and deadly. It was the beginnings of a proper pack. It took them only a moment to reach Grunt.

Glancing away from his front for just a moment, Verant noticed a spear suddenly fly out of the grass and hit Grunt in the foot.

The result was instantaneous as Grunt roared in anger. Then, before Verant could throw a spear of his own, the two-footer brought down its mouth on the successful thrower and jerked. The broken body was sent flying out of Verant's vision as the spear remained embedded.

That was when he saw two beaks appear through the grass.

Gotcha. Verant hurled his spear and was rewarded with a pained scream from his target.

The other hidden runner did not flinch, however, as it ripped through the grass with surprising speed. Dodging another spear throw from one of the pack, he slid over to the two-footer's foot and retrieved the now bloody spear. Then, barely missing the two-footer's lunge, the hidden runner sprinted off.

What was that about? Verant wondered, incredibly confused by the hidden runner's efforts, Bizarre but impressive. "Keep moving," he encouraged. Let's see if we can catch that overly brave hidden runner.

The line did not have much further to advance, however, before the tall grass gave way suddenly to what was a clearing of the hidden runner's own manufacture. For it was here that the spiketail stampede had crushed grass underfoot for a long distance. It was then that Verant caught sight of five hidden runners sneaking back towards the jungle where they still had cover. If there was to be a further battle it wouldn't be here.

They had taken Sheer Cliff Bluffs.

---

The jungle:

"You got the two-footer!"

Varon merely held the spear horizontally in both of his hands, as if inspecting the bloody instrument of destruction. "No, Bratus did and met his end. But what he has achieved for us is a sign of our honor."

The other hidden runners were obviously still ready to continue fleeing, but they nonetheless bowed slightly at the bloody spear. It was a symbol of their collective efforts, but also of what had been sacrificed by them. Such was the test. Such was the way of the Outsider packs.

"I will now supplant my brother and ensure that the families of our fallen are rewarded for their bravery… and that my father's domain is correctly ruled." Varon looked at the other four with a slow, deliberate appraisal. "Are you ready to return home, my deputies?"

This caught the others by surprise as they looked up in shock.

"Of course you are my deputies. Do you think I would trust anyone for that honor but those who risked their blood with me?" Varon smiled. "So let's leave the rest of this sorry battle for the river packs. Our home awaits!"

There was no disagreement as the group of five hidden runners disappeared into the deep vegetation. Leaving only their handiwork behind.

---

"Um… so what now?"

Orchid could only stare in the general direction that the chaotic sounds of battle were emanating. But, with the tall grass covering the distance between them and the battle lines, he was confronted with the same view as always. He would suggest moving forward… but with the three eggs behind them he already knew how that suggestion would go down.

While Orchid continued to stare, Mender checked and rechecked the piles of various leaves and roots she and her packmates had left nearby. "We make sure we're ready for whatever we need to help with," she said, finally answering Orchid's question, "Why don't you check those piles over there?"

Orchid looked surprised for a moment but then walked over dutifully to one of the said piles. Al-alright, it looks like… we have six of the orange rot root. Part of his mind added that this was for knocking out a patient that was in serious pain or belligerent. Um… is that going to happen? I'm not sure I can hold down an angry fastbiter without losing my head!

Orchid closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Calm down, Orchid. You are not the one doing the fighting… it is time to do your part. It took a moment, but his breathing finally calmed down to a more appropriate level of mind-numbing terror.

"Are we short of anything?" Mender asked, having finished checking her last pile.

"Uh… unless we have to knock out more than six we should be good," Orchid answered with a bit more confidence than he felt. He then looked back towards the commotion of the battle, "Wasn't the main line supposed to let the enemy come to them?"

"That was the original plan, but plans can change. Let Seeker and the others worry about it. That's their job," Mender said.

Orchid could only sigh at this. Mender's words were true, but that did not change the fact that he had a really bad feeling about this.

That was when the sound of movement in the nearby grass became audible over the distant sounds of screeches and roars. I think that's our signal…

"I'm fine, Cyan; it's just a scratch…"

Orchid blinked. That's Seeker's voice! He gave Mender a look.

Mender looked towards where she heard Littlefoot's voice and tensed, preparing to rush to help if necessary.

"Seriously, I'm…"

"We need a healer over here!"

That was the signal as Mender and Orchid both ran towards the blue fastbiter who had made that pronouncement. Almost at the same time the rather annoyed form of Littlefoot could be seen with the vines around his chest and shoulder removed.

Without a word Orchid held up the antidote for the Orange Death so that Mender had ready access.

Mender hurriedly started examining Littlefoot's injury, hardly noticing Orchid's action.

Littlefoot sighed. "I got a little scrape from a sharp stick, but the vine got most of it."

"Most of it or all of it?" Mender asked.

Littlefoot groaned before presenting his left shoulder. "Most of it."

It was now that Orchid caught sight of the shoulder. There was no obvious sign of blood from his vantage point, but it was clear that a few feathers were out of place. But that was when he noticed it. "Mender, look!"

"Hold still, Seeker," Mender said, peering closely at the spot Orchid had pointed to, "It looks like you got very lucky. I'm not seeing any cuts or anything else that would let the Orange Death in."

Now it was Littlefoot's chance to take a closer look at his shoulder. "Wait, what?"

Orchid wordlessly handed Mender a yellow treesweet.

Before taking the treesweet, Mender carefully used a leaf to remove all the Orange Death she could see from Littlefoot's shoulder. "Tell me if this stings," she told Littlefoot.

Littlefoot did not obviously react as Mender rubbed the sap under his outer feathers.

It was only now that Cyan breathed a sigh of relief. "I think you are good, sir. I'm sorry, I..."

Littlefoot cut him off. "You were just doing your duty, Cyan. If it had gotten through, then this would have saved my life." He gave Mender an appreciative nod. "We should get back to the line."

Caw! Caw! Caw!

Orchid cringed at the loud screeching call. What is it now? But that was when he caught sight of Littlefoot and Cyan's reaction. They were both tail-smiling.

That was when victorious roars could be heard in the distance.

"Check that; let's see if anyone needs help," Littlefoot finally ordered before both he and Cyan disappeared without another word.

Orchid blinked. Did that just happen?

"You okay there, Orchid?" Mender asked.

Orchid jumped. "Y-yes! It's just… that was weird." Gee, way to stay calm, Orchid. "I guess the enemy decided to go after the big guy."

"I guess. You did good responding to it, though," Mender said.

Orchid looked away slightly in embarrassment. "Well… you did the work. I just handed you things."

"Remind me to tell you how my first effort at healing when I wasn't Haven's assistant went sometime," Mender said, "You're doing fine."

Haven. That name reminded him that they were not the only healers. "How do you think the others are doing?"

"If we're all lucky, they're standing around looking for something to do. If this goes like most fights I know about, they're probably busy right now," Mender said honestly.

"We need a healer!"

Orchid gave Mender a look. Why couldn't you be wrong for once? "Over here!" he yelled as he waved his purple arms for emphasis. It was then that the sound of running feet began to grow closer and closer.

Mender hurried forward to get a look at the wounded fastbiter and help move her if needed. "Orchid, get some cleansing sap ready!" The fastbiter Cyan and Littlefoot were carrying, or more accurately dragging, had a rather alarming injury around her ankle. "What happened?" she asked Littlefoot.

Orchid hurried over to the pile of roots before hastily grabbing two of them.

"She took a stick to the ankle! She took it out before Rege found her!"

"She doesn't have the jerks yet, but the fuckers were throwing orange-tipped sticks!" another voice affirmed, which Orchid could not identify.

As soon as he turned around to rush back he could see that they had company. Cyan, Littlefoot, an obviously stricken fastbiter prone on the ground, and three other fastbiters. It was only when he had arrived back at Mender's side that he realized that two of the new faces were grimacing in pain. "Here, Mender. We also have brown root."

"Thanks. Now could you check the new arrivals for me?" Mender asked, not once glancing away from the injury she was tending.

Orchid nodded quickly before turning to the two fastbiters. A quick sniff confirmed that they were both male, whereas a quick glance confirmed they were grimacing in pain. "Did any of you get hit with a stick?"

It was not the most subtle question, but he had to know immediately the severity. If anyone got a stick injury then they were the priority. Or, as his memory of Mender's training voice said in his head, You can be polite when you are sure they're not dying.

"Just a sprain," one of the fastbiters said, sounding embarrassed, "I got ordered back here."

The other injured fastbiter didn't say anything. He just stood there for a moment, looking at Orchid with a vacant expression.

And then he keeled over.

Though it only took less than a second, for Orchid time seemed to slow into an imperceptible crawl. All the while his brain tried to process what he was seeing. Eyes rolling into the back of one's head. The scent of fear. A fastbiter suddenly prone on the ground. In the end he acted out of instinct. "We have a bad one!"

He did not wait to hear Mender's response as he rushed over to the fallen fastbiter's side. The slightest movement of his chest confirmed that he was still breathing, but there were no obvious signs of trauma. Nonetheless he quickly began to scan the fastbiter's body. Though this was difficult with the fastbiter's head cocked the way it was, with its throat open to the air. Reluctantly, he reached behind the fastbiter's head to roll the head back on to its side.

And that's when he felt it. Blood. Oh, crap.

"Head injury," Orchid said in a soft, numb voice. I have no idea what to do with a head injury.

He gestured to the other fastbiter, who now looked mortified. "You… can you grab me one of the yellow sweet bubbles over there?" He gestured towards one of the piles.

The fastbiter nodded and hurried to do as he'd been asked, ignoring the pain from his sprained ankle.

Orchid turned back to his patient. "It's alright… we will help you." As he said this he tried to ignore the growing pit of fear in his stomach. He could collapse in fear later. Right now he had to try to help. "I don't know your name… but you will get through this."

Orchid considered asking for help then, but the voices from nearby stopped the words before they ever exited his mouth.

"Help me hold her down!"

"Here come the jerks!"

"It's the antidote, but we need to keep her still!"

Orchid swallowed. He didn't know what to do, but he knew this fastbiter's fate was in his hands.

"I've got it," the fastbiter Orchid sent to get the tree sweet said, holding the yellow fruit out to Orchid.

Orchid grabbed the fruit without comment as he stared at the blood-covered head. What had been invisible moments ago was now blindingly obvious from his vantage point. Against the sheen of blood there was no obvious wound for him to apply pressure. He would have to disinfect blind.

"Um…" Orchid clicked his beak as he tried to force his throat to make words, "Are you alright when you are off your f-foot?"

"I'm fine," the fastbiter replied, though he carefully kept his weight off his sprained ankle.

Orchid nodded at the returned fastbiter. "O-okay, here is what I am going to do…" And I hope it is the right thing. "It looks like he got whacked in the h-head, so I am going to put no-infection sap on it. And if he wakes up it will hurt a lot. I need some help to make sure he doesn't cut me."

"What do you need me to do?" the fastbiter asked.

"I need you to lay on his arms and legs and to hold his mouth shut." The tremor was almost gone from Orchid's voice now. "I will try to make this quick."

"How am I supposed to do all of that by myself?"

This caught Orchid by surprise for a moment. "Uh… right. Just lay on the arms and hold the mouth shut. If he wakes up, then we jump away." He tried to ignore the growing bitterness in the back of his throat.

The fastbiter reluctantly complied, obviously as uneasy about the prospect as Orchid was.

It was only then that Orchid focused on the work at hand. If the fastbiter woke up then he would have to get away in a hurry, but if Orchid got into a running position then he couldn't clean the head effectively. He would have to choose between helping this stranger and saving his own skin. In the end, Orchid went down on one knee and broke the yellow treesweet against his chest. Then, not trusting himself to stay calm, he quickly began to wipe the fastbiter's head with the sap.

There was no reaction. None at all.

Orchid let out a breath that he had no idea that he had been holding. Though, at the same time, he could feel a sinking sensation in his stomach. He is out bad.

Working as diligently as possible, Orchid wiped the sap around the prone fastbiter's head. Then, using a few clean treestars for that purpose, he began to wipe away the blood. When he finally got to the sixth treestar he could begin to see the cut.

Not deep, he thought to himself, But bleeding is not the problem here. I can't fix what I cannot see. In that moment everything around him seemed to take on a darker hue. No matter his bravery or his training as a healer, ultimately this fastbiter would rise or fall based upon events entirely out of his control. I'm sorry.

Orchid finally held a treestar firmly to the cut on the fastbiter's head. The now minor bleeding was the only thing he could control now.

"I know this hurts," Mender said, still seemingly focused on her own patient, "but you've held up extremely well. Just hold still a moment longer while I get the leaves on it and then get the vines around them."

Orchid swallowed. Why am I even here? Mender can save someone from the Orange Death, but I can't save someone with a blow to the head? Despite his misgivings he took a deep breath and gave his helper a polite nod. "What is your name?"

"Stubtail."

"Well, Stubtail, you were a big help."

"I didn't really do anything," Stubtail protested.

Orchid shook his head. You were more helpful than me. "This was a job that a healer can't do alone. All we can do for this guy is wait for the bleeding to stop. The rest is up to him." He then looked at Stubtail's ankle. "You will need to rest that foot for a few days. And I think half a no-pain leaf will help with the pain."

"You mean I'm out for longer?" Stubtail asked glumly, "All I did was trip, and now I'm useless."

Orchid frowned at this, but then, a slow tail-smile appeared. "There are other ways to help. Our battle healers will need cover."

Stubtail's expression slowly shifted from glumness to puzzlement as he considered what Orchid was saying. Finally, he tail-smiled in return.

"No running in formation?"

Orchid suppressed a snort. "No. There is running, but not in formation… it is just another way to help with the battle." Plus I would rather have you running beside us than some of the others.

"And done," Mender said from nearby, having finished securing the vine around her patient's leg.

"Thank you," the injured fastbiter replied.

Orchid allowed himself to look back at Mender's handiwork. Though it was obvious that this young fastbiter was done with battle for the foreseeable future, it was also obvious that she was clear of the orange death. Reluctantly, Orchid then turned back to his own patient and removed the treestar from the back of the head. The bleeding had stopped.

But the unconsciousness remained.

Orchid could only bow his head. Please wake up.

Mender turned towards Orchid and froze at the sight before her. What happened here? Okay, so I've got a patient down, not moving. And Orchid isn't reacting well. I'll need to make sure he's alright as well. She looked a bit closer at the prone fastbiter. Oh, head injury. She then looked back at Orchid.

Oh, no. We lost one. Taking Orchid's reaction and the motionless fastbiter together, she couldn't come to any other conclusion. "Orchid?"

The fastrunner did not look up at first, but instead kept his focus on the prone fastbiter's chest. "I fixed what I could. H-he took a hit to the head."

Glancing away from Orchid for a moment, Mender couldn't help but notice the nearby blood-covered leaves.

It was then that her gaze focused on what Orchid was fixated on. The chest still slowly rose and fell. They had not lost one. Not yet.

"What else do you know about his injury?" Mender asked Orchid after a moment. If we haven't lost one yet, I'm not letting it happen because we forgot something.

Orchid was visibly shaking now. "I put on some yellow sap… Stubtail helped hold him down, but he didn't get up. I pressed on the cut until the bleeding stopped." He took a deep breath as the scent of agitation radiated off of him. Nervously, he rubbed his crest with his still blood-drenched hand.

"That's good," Mender said, thinking, "I'm not sure there's much we can do at the moment."

The fastrunner could only sigh at this. "I wish that I could have done more."

"You've done all you can, Orchid," Mender said gently, "No one can ask you to do more than that."

The fastrunner was silent for several moments as he took in her words. Mender did not press the matter as Orchid watched his patient's chest rise and fall.

"He managed to walk up here, but his eyes… I don't think he knew what he was doing," Orchid recalled, "Then he just dropped."

Mender looked at the fastbiter again and thought for a moment. "I think only time is going to be able to tell on this one," she finally said, "It might be a walking knock-out; he'll wake up after a while if that's the case. If it's a slow end, he won't."

Orchid blinked. "A slow end? So… something we can't treat, then? Something that we can't see?"

"Unfortunately," Mender said, "I don't even know what causes the difference between that and a walking knock-out, and I've had one of those." Please don't ask how, because I'm not entirely sure what I did except not watch where I was going. Again.

This appeared to make Orchid calm down finally as his features went from agitated to merely contemplative. Somewhere deep inside Mender had to suppress a slight swelling of pride as she noticed the same reaction in Orchid as she saw in herself. Do what you can and hope for the best… and then move on to what's next.

Orchid rose back to his full height. "Stubtail seemed fond of the idea of being a protector for us next time…" He looked over to make sure he was not in earshot. "I think he would prefer to help us for his pack name than to earn the name, Stumbles."

"That's not a bad idea. An extra pair of eyes would be very useful," Mender said.

Orchid then quickly looked over in the direction of the eggs. Mender followed his look and noticed Stubtail just a bit closer to the nest than he had been a moment ago, looking first in the eggs' direction then back at the prone fastbiter. He's on guard duty already, Mender realized after Stubtail repeated his movement several more times, Good. But if he so much as looks at my eggs the wrong way...

Orchid smiled. "I'm sure he will do fine. I just hope that this one does fine, too." He looked over at the prone fastbiter once more. "You, um, hit your head a few times, right? But you were alright afterwards. Is it always that way? Either recovery or…" He let the thought trail off.

"Sorta. I remember my vision being not so good when I woke up, and it stayed like that ever since. Until now, anyway. Actually, my eyes have been working really well since I woke up after I got stabbed," Mender said, mostly thinking out loud.

Orchid suddenly grew silent and averted his gaze, before finally shifting his focus back to the eggs. His antics did not go unnoticed.

"Orchid?" Mender asked, suddenly becoming suspicious. Before she could ask about the fastrunner's reaction, she suddenly noticed Ducky and a few other fastbiters approaching.

Several of the fastbiters had triumphant expressions and were almost bounding with unspent energy, while others wore expressions of relief. For the fastbiters surrounding Ducky, however, there was a clear sense of melancholy. This was clearly highlighted by a fastbiter with an old scar around his eye leaning against his blue comrade. But he had no visible injuries.

Further back, Mender couldn't help but notice Buse throwing a torn vine in frustration. Something's definitely not right.

Orchid could not make sense of what he was seeing either as his head tilted in obvious confusion from the disjointed messages from the crowd. It was some relief, then, when he caught sight of a familiar pink fastbiter appearing through the grass. "Sis? What's going on?"

Ruby walked over with an audible sigh as she gave Orchid's prone patient a careful sniff. "I hope that we don't lose another one, because one is enough…" She then looked over at Mender and Orchid in turn. "We did what we could, but Grimace's group lost one. We couldn't give poor Bloodsnout the antidote in time."

Mender's expression shifted from concerned to sympathetic almost instantly. "Oh."

Orchid could only let out a sympathetic sigh. "I'm going to check on Buse… are you alright, sis?"

Ruby gave her brother a small tail-smile. "I'm alright, Orchid. Sometimes our best just isn't good enough. I can help Mender out over here."

Orchid did not waste any time as he bounded off towards Buse's downcast form. Mender had no doubt that Cynnil would be making the same pilgrimage soon to reassure her comrade. It was never easy to lose a patient under one's care.

The sound of Ruby's sigh reminded Mender of her presence. "I fear Bloodsnout will not be the last before this is over."

"I wish I didn't agree with you," Mender replied before returning her focus to more immediate concerns, "Were there any more injured?"

"Amazingly, no. Not serious ones, anyway. Grimace's group and the part that was left behind had similar ideas. It would be impressive if it wasn't for the fact that the old biter got his group into the mess to begin with!" Ruby finished with obvious disdain for the deputy.

Mender listened to Ruby's words, but her true focus was on the crowd which was gathering in the distance. Even as some of their number walked with vigor in their steps, there was a noticeable somber mood among others. Their snapped spears, in some cases, and their pained footsteps confirmed what Mender had suspected. Here were Grimace's biters, only distinguishable from Grimace himself due to his larger size. Not one of their number looked in his direction beside one fastbiter with a scar next to his eye. If looks could have killed then Grimace would have dropped dead right there. It was obvious who Bloodsnout's friends were.

Mender allowed herself a sigh. This probably isn't going to end well.

---

The river - deep in Questor's territory:

Row… Breathe in… breathe out… row…

Chronos kept pace with his mate as they sent their makeshift boat deeper into the river. On either side swam two of their shadows. Two more hidden runners sat on the makeshift boat itself, both of them seemed hell-bent on bringing their precious cargo to their leader before night fell. Though, in this thick jungle that had no name, sunlight was as scarce as a humble threehorn. Fog had settled in.

Perfect.

Chronos opened his beak and nodded at an empty span of water in the distance. "Careful, I think I see something in the water."

Chronos pushed his makeshift oar through the water as he spared his mate a glance. For the briefest of moments their eyes met.

Good luck, dear.

"Hey! Keep your eyes on the water," one of the hidden runners ordered.

"Huh?" the other hidden runner asked, having just now turned to see what was going on.

Chronos closed his eyes. Goodbye.

The hidden runner did not have time to register what was happening when Chronos's oar slammed into his head. Then, with all of the force that he could muster, Chronos leaned over in Logos's direction, tipping over their makeshift boat and sending her into the murky water.

"What is... whoa!" one of the hidden runners hollered before falling in as the hollow log capsized.

Chronos pushed the boat away with one hand while he flailed with the oar with the other, making as much noise as possible. Between the shouting and the splashing he could not tell where anyone or anything was. All that he knew was that if he was disoriented by the situation then surely his pursuers were as well.

He moved forward now, or whatever direction he was going in. At this point he could have been heading in the direction of deep water and not know. Instead, he focused on his strokes. Intentionally making each one as long as loud as possible.

Though none were as loud as his yelp when he was hit in the side with his own oar.

"He's over here!" one of the hidden runners shouted, sounding angry.

Took the bait! Chronos thought as he broke into the fastest swim he could manage. All the while he swerved his tail to and fro so that any hidden runner lucky enough to catch up would not grab him easily.

He felt the oar hit his tail. Was he gaining on them? For a brief moment he allowed himself to hope. If he could get to land then maybe, just maybe, they both could make a break for it.

That was when his hand hit something hard and wet. The resulting thud would have alerted anyone to where he was. The second his other hand reached the object, however, he had no doubt what he had collided with. He had caught up to his own boat. It was a shame he did not have his oar. Nonetheless, as if making one final act of defiance, he climbed back onto his makeshift vessel. Waiting for his 'escort' to catch up with him.

He did not have to wait long.

The four hidden runners hurriedly swam towards Chronos. One managed to pull ahead of the others and pull himself up onto the now-righted hollowed log. He glared at Chronos.

Chronos took a deep breath before offering his pursuers a smile. If I am dying here today then I plan on deserving it. "I seem to have lost my partner. I hope you all don't mind rowing!"

The last thing Chronos saw before everything went dark was the oar colliding with his face.