A/N: The song for this one is by one of my favorite bands as of late. Before the Dawn - Silence.
Arc of the Hindspaw clan ran. As fast as he could. As fast as his short but rather powerful legs would carry him across the land covered with bushes and tall weed and grass. As fast as his heart was beating, pumping blood through his body, eyes squinted against the wind and ears flailing behind. No conscious thought present but the constant terrified squeaky voice trying to scream "run, run, run". If he just had a moment, to stop, to catch a single full breath, Arc would look back at the day and wonder when and why it all went oh so wrong. He would wonder how did the four of them never heard that red furred devil, how did that fox finish off three of his friends so quick. If Arc was a thinker, hr would then trace back and start wondering why did they even try to sneak in the Hopps clan territory alone. Without telling anyone. Wasn't it just a plain stupid idea of four equally brainless youngsters trying to find a shortcut to glory? They thought they had found it, but it turned out that the only place the shortcut led to was Hel. How many times did their grandfather tell them stories of red devils coming after bad bunnies? Why was he a bad bunny, when all he tried to do was good for his clan? If only he could just catch a little breath…
The living creatures of this land had to be conspiring against him. They just had to be. Otherwise, why would he be distracted from his sleep twice on the same day? Sleep that he terribly needed after traveling for a whole night without stopping. Irritated, the fox followed those annoying whispers and unfamiliar smells. As the Hopps patriarch explained to him, bunny families were so large in numbers, that remembering all the names and faces was a task only a fraction of bunnies were capable of. This led to a big problem of clans trying to steal baby bunnies from rivals in order to boost their own numbers and reduce the others. Figuring out it was much easier to orient on scent marks that got stuck to an individual for quite some time, allowed for two birds to be shot with one stone. Thus the head of the clan and his wife marked their clan members constantly to distinguish between the members of a clan and outsiders, solving the problem of kitnappings along the way.
This is how Nicholas found himself standing amidst three corpses and a little bunny kit. Oh, not three, two corpses. The guy with a knife in his gut was still breathing. Stupid difference in height apparently made the knife miss its intended target. That one would have to wait though, the kit looked like he would go into some kind of overdrive any second now, judging by the twitching of his nose.
Moving deliberately much slower than usual, the fox sat in front of the little Hopps kit.
- Listen here bud. I came to take those who are not Hopps to Hel. I can smell you are a Hopps, so I will help and untie you but you as much as move without my consent and I will send you there as well, understand? - Frantic nodding from the little buck got Nicholas raising his brow, but the gesture was lost on the bunny due to the silk cover over the fox's eyes. Once the nodding stopped, the mercenary carefully took the sticking piece of cloth out of the youngling's mouth. And was immediately assaulted by a question that only a kit could ask without any regard for the fox's specie or deeds.
- Are you an angel? - The questioned tod was already cutting the rope, restricting Rupert's legs, with one of his many throwing knives. His ears kept turning around, searching for any additional sounds, like the Hopps militia finally arriving.
- Not really, just a mercenary. Turn around, I need to free your wrists. - Surprisingly, the young buck silently did as he was told. Nicholas thought it strange that the youngling was not afraid of him, even trusted him. Regardless, the fox mercenary first loosened the rope with his claws, and only then cut it, so as not to harm the bunny with the overly large large for the kit blade. The young buck got to his feet feeling his hurting hands and with a somber expression on his muzzle.
- Get back to your parents. I need to clean up. - Finished with the little one, Nicholas turned back to the corpses and a dying form of a bunny.
- Th-thank you. - Rupert understood on some instinctive level, that mere words would not be enough to repay for his life, but that was all he had right now, and anyways, his parents may not have been able to drill obedience into the little buck, but good manners they were.
Nicholas just waved the bunny away and after the little guy disappeared, went on with what interested him more. The still living bunny from another clan on the verge of death. Sitting in a crouch in front of the heaving form, without much ceremony, the fox has dragged his throwing knife from the buck's torso, eliciting a stifled cry and more tears from the dying one. The blade was coated in blood, that now freely poured from the wound it inflicted.
Nicholas was intrigued. The smell might have been a bit too much for a nose of a canine like himself, but the fox mercenary was used to much worse scents left in the wake of massive killings that befell every battleground. Gingerly, the tod licked a little of the red fluid from his knife. After several moments of savouring the substance, he grinned. For it tasted exactly as blood of hundreds of other mammals he killed. So much for prey superiority claims. In the end, his blood, their blood, all blood ran the same.
In a moment though, the tod's smile faded, replaced by a deep frown. Yes, the blood might have tasted exactly the same, that was a fact. But it did not mean that the conclusion he drew from the fact was true. Nicholas never considered himself a master of debate, but he was familiar with logic and was not stupid enough to claim everything he believed in was truth. And though the other conclusion that he could think of was rather outrageous, the fox could not dismiss it just like that. What if bunnies were in fact predators?
Judith was trying. Hard. Very hard. She had to remain calm in the face of the farce that was being played out right in front of her very ears. Her sister was being ridiculous, claiming her son has been caught by the Hindspaw, beaten and then ran away from them to return back to his parents all bruised and swollen. Little Rupert did nothing to help, talking about angel coming to save him after the young buck vowed never to disobey his parents again, which happened after he apparently got kitnapped and beaten. All the while Judith stood near her father, thinking of how could a youngling create such an intricate story to cover another scuffle among the kits. Wouldn't it be easier to just say he fell down a steep slope? That's what she and her siblings said back during the time she was young.
The head of the clan, on the other hand, seemed much more trusting and looked agitated. Stuart had his nose twitching and ears lowered, trying to comprehend where exactly this all happened from the words of a kit. Finally, he could no longer get anything useful from young Rupert, or the mother. It was time to act.
- Judith. Take three of our militia with you and follow Rupert to the place where those Hindspaw were left. Report to me after securing that place. Gareth, find the heads of our branch families. Tell them to gather their militia chiefs and join me immediately. This does not wait, but make sure not to spread rumours. Let our clan peacefully enjoy this day. - The head of clan Hopps hoped that this day would come at a later date, but knew it was inevitable. Unfortunately, for the leaders and militia of the Hopps peaceful days were. It was finally time to resolve the issue of Hindspaw clan.
As she was told, Judith took three of the clan militia and asked Rupert to show them where he was saved but that angel. The little buck's mother went with them, not wanting to leave her child alone after what happened.
Armed with spears, the small delegation ventured towards the outskirts of clan territory, near a small hill with an apple tree. Judith was given notice that their fox mercenary chose the tree as his temporary stay while he served the clan head. It was another of those strange things about mercenaries. They pledged loyalty only to one person, and one that person was found dead or unable to pay for services, a mercenary would leave his oath. The later cause often was also a death sentence for the former master, so death was the only way out of a contract with a mercenary without a payment obligation being fulfilled.
Finally, the bunny entourage reached the part of the land where the young buck claimed the fight took place. The place did not seem to stand out aside from a strange stench. As if someone used it as a toilet pit but didn't bury it afterwards. Mixed in was something coppery. This got Judith's brows to furrow in concentration, since she knew how the fields should smell, and this was definitely something outside normal.
- Bradley, Robert, stay here with Clover and Rupert. Something happens, escort them back. Bernard, you with me. - Having received confirmations from all involved parties, Judith lead the way towards where the smell was strongest. She and her brother were carefully making their approach, not to disturb anything or anyone. Or at least, Judith did. Apparently Bernard had other thoughts on his mind for moving so slow and quiet. Quiet that did not last for more than twenty steps.
- Augh. What's the smell, sis? It's even worse than the stank pits. - The buck's displeasure at being assaulted by the invisible stench was accented with him waving his paw in front of his nose. Judith on the other hand was trying hard to ignore the unpleasant fragrance coursing in the air around them. All for the sake of being as silent and invisible as possible. All to be ruined by her incompetent brother. The doe was turning around to let her displeasure be known, but before she could even utter a sound, another voice sounded from just a few steps ahead of them.
- That's the smell of death. And you better get used to it, since you will get to smell it more, if you are lucky. - After quite some time of crouching, Nicholas finally stood up, stretching his back and legs to wake them back up. Enough time has passed after the little bunny he saved has ran away, with Nicholas pondering on the possibility of bunnies being predators for quite some time, but in the end deciding it was not worth his attention. That was switched to the weapons the unlucky dead trio had on them. Three axes with slightly different heads, all made of low quality and badly processed iron. All bearing a signature of a bunny paw. This actually could explain the low quality, since bunnies were not known for great strength that was required to purify raw ore. The axes' blades easily chipped when the fox tested their edges with one of his knives.
It was no wonder bunnies used spears and axes the most, since they were the easiest to produce. And even if they wanted to have swords, they would not be able to make them practical. With how soft their iron was, swords made of it would easily bend in combat, and no bunny possessed weight or strength enough to straighten it out quick. Finally, the arrival of the Hopps dragged him back into the real world.
- Move it already, I am tired of waiting for you. - The fox, his fangs bared, snapped at the duo, who eyed him suspiciously.
- See, I told you there was an angel! - Almost at the same time sounded the excited scream of Rupert, bouncing in one place after spotting the red furred savior towering over the grass and weeds.
- Rupert, stay back with your mother! Bradley, Robert, get Clover and her kit back to the compound. I will deal with the situation here and report straight to clan head after. - The order elicited weak protests from the youngling who wanted to stay around, but his mother was glad to be able to get as far away from the predator as possible. The remaining two bunnies entered the part of the field where the fight happened. Bernard probably wished he didn't, judging by the sound of him retching nearby. Judith stood near the three bodies, trying to recall the story of young Rupert, who apparently did not lie. In which case she would like to hear the full story of how the youngling got caught in the first place, and the learn why none of the clan militia seemed to be patrolling surrounding area. Though the second question was probably already being addressed by her father.
- Bloody worthless Hopps. Shouldn't have gotten my hopes up after Stu, these maggots are not even suited to be skirmishers, what to say about them being warriors. - The words came in an almost inaudible whisper from the fox, probably not meant for them to hear it, since the mercenary was busy cleaning his knife on a piece of cloth, back turned to where the bunnies stood. Judith sill did. She was always said that her hearing was extraordinary, even between bunnies. Any other day, any other mammal, she might have ignored such insults, but this was coming from a mercenary, a cowardly and unprincipled being, having no right to discus who could and could not be a warrior.
In the future, looking back at this day, the doe would try to understand what kind of misery possessed her, would try to dissect her feelings and what led to them taking over her rational part, so that she would never repeat the same mistake again.
- There are three bodies here. Where is the fourth? - For Nicholas, the badly concealed anger of someone standing not too far, right behind his back, along with the fact he could not register the presence before she spoke, was a stimuli rarely present in the mercenary's life these days. There was a barely perceptible shift in the fox's stance, so that he was able to use throwing knives at will. His left ear trained on the speaker, with both of them fully erect, tracing any and every sound.
- He ran away. And quite fast I might add. Maybe you bunnies should have solved your problems with running competition, or carrot farming festivals? You know, the things you cute little fluffs are good at. - Nicholas was feeling strange. He could feel it in the air. The pull of boiling blood, the approaching exhilaration of weapons clashing, heart rate speeding up in anticipation of the grand battle to come. Yet, the only thing opposing him was a young bunny doe, her forehead barely reaching his chest. The other bunny, named Bernard, was still trying to coerce his stomach into calming down.
- And leave all the warring and feuds to real warriors. - Large, vicious, with fangs on full display, smile adorned the fox's muzzle. Judith could barely contain the ugly feeling swelling up in her chest at its sight. She often wished to be just a bit taller, but today, the doe was ready to pay almost any price just to be able to glare that fox right in the eyes. Still covered with the black cloth.
- I am a much better warrior than your sorry shifty tail is, was or ever will be, fox. - Despite the fact the young doe was smaller, her fiery glare would have probably killed a polar bear now. If looks could kill and the fox was using his eyes.
- Challenge accepted, Carrots. Bring your proof to the apple tree by sundown. And I will bring mine. - With this said, Nicholas took several sniffs of the air and started on the way the last surviving Hindspaw bunny took to running some time ago.
Judith stood, paws clenched, teeth grinding. She should have brought her spear, than this pesky pelt would not dare talk the way he did. But she still had to deal with the task her father gave her. So all the raw feelings towards the fox went swept under the "duty" rug. Judith would deal with them later.
- Bernard, get back to the boroughs and bring here several more mammals with something to transport three corpses. And be quick. - The sick buck nodded, and took off back in the direction they came from. The smell was nauseous enough without the sight of the neatly split head, and the combination of both was much more he could stomach now. Was that fox smell deaf, since Bernard heard of canids having a much better olfactory sense, or was he just used to it? The latter thought was terrifying, and Bernard was renewing his vows to never ever leave their sacred land. He needed to get back to Judith with the help she asked for first though, unless he wanted to see his ancestors soon. She was not in a good mood. Probably should tell their mother…
Nicholas followed the scent of the unfortunate bunny he allowed to escape. Well, not exactly, since the buck would die either way. The mercenary just gave his victim some more time to regret his stupidity and lack of preparation. It was true that in war one had to act on the situation and possibilities provided by the enemy. But one must be prepared for every such act lest he be caught in a trap or the enemy reverse the situation. The latter happened to the poor Hindspaw clan offsprings. Which only showed how badly these bunnies were ready for actual warfare. Why would they even start feuds if they knew not how to wage war? Or, if they did start, why not just arrange a date, gather all able men and fight it all out in a single big fight? Though, judging by the reaction that Hopps buck showed to the smell of death, neither idea would go well with the bunnies. Worthless cowards the lot of them. But still with enough pride…
Oh, and here is the running one. As expected, died from some "natural" cause. Sprawled on the ground, covered by the tall grass from the prying eyes of the ever curious world. Mostly, the circling birds high above that would be thankful for the meal.
Nicholas took what he needed from the body and then cleared some of the weed around the lying body so that the air dwellers had a bot of an easier time finding food. After all, he depended on them to provide his own, so the exchange was mutually beneficial in the end.
Still, one down, eleven more to go. The mercenary decided that twelve would be a good enough number of trophies to show off his proficiency. The bunny who challenged him seemed capable enough, if not unrefined and green. She was tall too, reaching his chest without those ears. Or was he just finally getting older and smaller? Has Finneus's curse from times long forgotten finally caught up with him? Being even smaller than he was now would prove to be more of a challenge in the predators' lands. What a worrying thought. Though the fox specifically escaped to the southern regions to escape any worries, their number seemed to be piling up after he accepted the damn buck's hire proposition. Damn it all. And damn the bloody mercenary code by which he was unable to refuse as long as he was able in body and mind.
The tod moved fast, yet silently, a combination ordinary mammals would never be able to reach in whole their lives, because they lacked both the trainer and incentive to achieve it. Granted, some species were born to be silent, but warriors were taught and conditioned to be efficient in everything, especially in surviving. Because who needs a dead warrior?
The body of a dead buck was draped over Nick's left shoulder. The mercenary planned on using it as a bait for attracting attention of the Hindspaw clan. Relatively small stature allowed for the tall weeds to cover his approach as well as night, if not better. Or was it wheat? The fox was not too keen on farmed agricultures in prey regions, and there was little to none place for farming back up north. That limited his vocabulary when it came to identifying the various plants and crops that bunny farmers grew and gathered. Everything was either grass or weed in his perception. Which was far from impressive landscapes and views he got back in the mountains of his homeland.
But right now he was here not for the marvelous vistats. His goal was much simpler and one foxes excelled at (according to the loonies that called themselves scientists). Hunting down bunnies. The tod considered even doing this one little display of skills for free, seeing as this was a challenge to find out which one was a better warrior. He would win, doubtlessly, the question was only by how large a margin.
Finally, Nicholas has reached what probably was a pond that separated lands of Hopps and Hindspaw clans. Judging by the abundance of smell from Hopps affiliated bunnies, this was the side belonging to his contractor. Deciding that this was as fitting a place as any to make final preparations, the tod dropped his luggage of a dead body. His traveling waterskin was nearly empty by now, so the water would be the number one priority, and it could be resolved immediately.
Nicholas kneeled down before the pond just close enough to be able to reach the surface with his hands. The mercenary bent slightly forward and lifted the silk cover from his left eye slightly. What he saw with his sight made him cringe, making the surprisingly scarless tod staring back from the water surface seem even more ugly than his memory supplied.
- Yeah, not bloody glad to see you too, darlings. - Drawled Nicholas, extending his free hand while managing to keep balance in his kneeling position. A single claw was all he needed. A simple slash to finish off the little pests and then fill up the waterskin without fear of being dragged in and drowned. There was little love lost between him and the water elementals, a bit unusual for canines, but expected for the likes of this tod.
Next, came the part of distinguishing this as a hunt, not simple massacre. The prey of the hunter had to at least have a chance to know the hunter's presence to be able to retaliate. And no matter how ridiculous the idea or the ensuing sight was, Nicholas hated to admit that there was no better way to alert the prey by sound. Of bells. Little round bronze bells, gifted to him as a show of respect by a fellow mercenary. Crazy bastard wore a full set of eleven bells in his mane, that was done in a very peculiar manner, eleven spikes facing eleven directions. To allow others know where he was, in order to enjoy battle a bit more, was the reasoning behind such attire. Memories of their fights still made the fox shudder every time and hope against all hopes that the day for their next duel would not come anytime soon.
Shrugging the unwanted sentiments off, Nicholas proceeded with hooking the bells to the part of his silk eyecover that flowed behind his back. He just knew he looked silly that way, but he did not want to put the bells anywhere else. And he did not have a manelike headfur to fix the little contraptions to it.
The whole procedure was not very difficult, but the exact positioning of bells to ensure best possible sound effect demanded careful handling and took time. By the time the tod finished, the sun moved quite some distance towards the western end of the horizon, indicating that about an hour and a half have passed.
A grin, full of white fangs, faced the passing sky body. No weakness permeated his body or mind. Promise of the inevitable end of every living thing in his posture. Promise of unfathomable darkness descending upon those opposing its bearer. Promise of eternal silence to consume it all as it consumed the area around the pond once the bells stopped chiming. At long last, the fabrication that was known to some of this world as a fox mercenary Nicholas Wilde, was ready to kill once more.
It was finally the time to move.