Recu's eyes watched as the door opened. He knew this was coming, how could he not? He had looked up just long enough to make sure it was the Badger Lord, and then dropped the rust to the page again.
"Ye-" Recu held up a paw, silencing the surprised badger, taking in the printed words. Blinking in confusion, Milkeye looked at his general, then to the fox stretched out on the cot. The paw fell, slowly, slowly, coming to rest on the edge of the cloth covered wood just as he snapped the book shut, missing his nose by a hair.
"Thank ye; 'tis a book of good, yes. Many not survived the ship, no, so all me have is all me have." Slipping it in his pack as he stood, Recu brushed his trousers smooth before standing strait, bowing, then returning to neutral. "What brings yon Lord to mon cell?"
Milkeye wasn't even sure if he should say anything. The fox was a strange one, which he could tell. Though, he had never seen anything quite this strange before. Clearing his throat he rubbed his white eyes a bit before patting his stripe.
"Yer first language ain't ours, huh?"
"Non, mon family learned it second."
"Ri… come." That was it? Come? A simple command was all that was required of him? Sure, he could deal with that. Kicking his sack under the cot he stepped carefully through the hall of hares. They watched him, untrusting, as he followed their leader through the mountain stronghold. A fox, he was talking to a fox. Like an equal. Like it wasn't some vermin that could kill him. The Long Patrol lined the wall, and all of them had seen as this fox had broken a rat's neck. Sure, it was a badger he would be up against this time. But it didn't make the fox any less dangerous. It was a vermin with brains.
Milkeye closed the door behind Recu, locking them both in the forge room. His safe-haven. All his troops were outside; locked out, unable to come to his aid should he need it. Recu stood in the middle of the room, waiting to be told what to do. Milkeye stood, watching, sizing up his opponent. Half-dried rust-blood fur. There was no color else on this creature, his belly, his head, his snout, his tail, even his paws were the same bland red-brown. Even his eyes blood-like. The only color was his black nose.
Long ears, long tail that had to curl at his foot paws lest it drag on the ground, long whiskers, long limbs… everything about this fox was built for movement, speed, stealth. He had made fighting and killing a career. An assassin, that's what he had been told. He believed it. Everything from his stance to his fur was about death.
"Foxer."
"Aye, Recu Foxer."
"Assassin expert."
A nod.
"Well, yew gots any plans?"
"Mon dream was farm for mon scythe. 'Tis gone now, yes."
"Farm?! Yew want farm life?"
"Aye."
"But, yer a killer."
"Kill, yes, like? No."
"Yew don' like killin', eh?"
"No."
"Weel, too bad fer yew. I saved yer life, yer gots ta repay me."
Recu's demeanor didn't change. Not even his huge ears twitched, narrow eyes blink… nothing. Milkeye, though, narrowed his white eyes at the creature. Most would protest, or at least look at him funny. But no, Recu didn't move.
"I hads a dream. My father came to me, toulds me yew'd come." Nothing. "Toulds me yew'ds need a weapon, yew'ds save a farm. An' toulds me if'n I said no, my Patrol'd die. Sos, yew gots a weapon, and I wants yew gone."
A weapon? The Badger Lord was going to give him a weapon? Wow, that was amazing! Don't show it, don't show it.
"'Ere." Just like that? A staff was thrust into his paws, the force of the badger making him take a step back. Finally he moved, making the unnerved badger calm down a bit. Recu examined the staff, finding the weight very comfortable. The basket weave, the streamline, the balance. Strange, though, the sudden blocks at both ends. They were clunky, though not unmanageable. It didn't seem to fit. Touching one, Recu was surprised that it shifted.
Taking off one of the caps he was confronted by the sharp flint fish-back blade. Eyes sparkling, Recu moved to the other, finding that it too came off. Blades, sharp, bright… a thin leather thong, soft, flexible, kept the cap to the staff. They were heavy, could be used for whipping. His mind turning Recu recapped them, turning them just a bit so they locked.
He learned quickly, Milkeye noted, as Recu figured out the secrets of the new stick. What Recu saw as cumbersome Milkeye prided himself in. Anyone else would see this as a walking stick. It was perfect, absolutely in his mind.
"Well?"
"Yon expert, yes? Well done." That was it? Such short words for a wordy kind of guy. Milkeye knew that what he had just been told was all he was going to get. He was pleased though. Highest praise an armorer could receive from a knight. Though, this was hardly a knight. "Why?"
"Told yer, yer's saving that farm o'yer's. An' if'n I didn', I'd pay."
"Fair enough, yes. What now, hmm?"
"Get yer pack, grab some vittles, an' get out."
Bowing, Recu held the staff carefully before unlocking the heavy door, slipping out through it, and flying through the now empty hall to his prison cell. Hefting his pack up under his cloak, Recu wrapped the dark violet cloth tightly around him, hiding every scrap of fur. Covering his huge ears and long muzzle with the hood, he leapt out the now un-barred window, and disappeared into the upcoming snow.