(A/N: Sorry this has taken so long to come.)
Up in the northlands, snow was a constant aspect of nature, covering the ground all year round. Winter was a continuous season for the creatures that lived there. One creature that was a resident was Bonuo the Rough, a tall polecat with white fur, except for one dark brown paw, nearly black. His eyes were like the colour of blood, the colour of so many of his victim's blood. Stowed into the belt of his tunic was a long sword, the likes of which had never been seen before. It's forged serrated edge showed no mercy for any beast that met it. This was the same story for many as it was with a small family of shrews. Several others knives and daggers were also placed carefully in his belt.
Three carcasses lay in the reddened snow near a cave entrance, two babes and a shrew-wife. The tall polecat looked at the blade of his sword and licked off the blood with his tongue. He then looked at the sword's victims. "Stumpy! Fang!" he called without taking his eyes off the dead. Two stoats took a step forward from the ranks of the horde. They stood, shivering slightly in the cold air. Without looking at them he spoke. "Git a fire star'ed." He finished licking the blood off his formidable weapon. "Tonigh' we feast on shrews!" a wicked grin crossed his scarred face, showing two long yellowed fangs. He placed his sword carefully into his belt, being careful not to cut himself, and then moved away from his victims.
Taking long strides he made his way through the ranks of his vast horde to a shrew cowering in the snow on his knees. A ferret and a stoat stood around the creature.
"You murderer!" the shrew shouted in between his sobs. "My poor family."
Bonuo just smiled, a wicked smile, at the poor creature's loss. "Yew'll make a great addition to me 'orde." He turned and scanned the horde for a minute before finally resting on the two stoats, frantically trying to light a fire under the bows of a large elm tree.
Stumpy, a tan coloured stoat who's tail had been chopped off during a battle, was using his paws to clear away the snow, uncovering the earth beneath. Fang, who was a dark brown stoat, then piled up the sticks ontop of one another. They continued until they had collected as many twigs as they could find. Then striking flint to stone they waiting till the sparks hit the twigs and started a fire. It only took a minute for a fire to begin. As soon as it had, the two stoats built a spit over the flames so that the shrews could be cooked.
Bonuo the Rough was first to assemble near the fire. The rest of the vermin horde knew better than to go before their leader. He drooled from the corner of his mouth as he watched the dead shrew-wife slowly turn on the spit.
The shrew, Drogun, who had watched his family die, could not watch as the ferrets, stoats, foxes and Bonuo, sank their teeth into their meal. Instead he walked into his den and found his hidden stash of cheese. The rest of the vermin had looted the rest of the stores. A tear trickled down his face as he thought of the lives that had been lost that day.
The ferret who had been standing around Drogun, Ruaf, crawled in through the small opening and into the main chamber of the den. "I know exactly how you're feeling mate." He said as he sat down next to Drogun. "Bonuo killed my wife and two babes. They were both as young as yours."
Drogun looked round at the brown ferret. "He ate them?"
Ruaf shook his head. "I never actually saw what he did to them." The two creatures sat in silence in the shrew's dwelling, sharing the cheese between them.
From inside the dwelling the smell of scorched fur could be detected. The two creatures wrinkled their noses in disgust.
"You were lucky friend." Drogun said quietly as he fought back his tears. Ruaf could only nod his head slowly, knowing exactly what the shrew was talking about.