Disclaimer: Yep, I own Redwall ::wakes up:: Drat…

A/N: The genre of this story is romance, in this chapter you may be able to see why. Thanks again to the one person who reviewed!

Chapter 3

"Git up! Rowan, git up ye lazy squirrel" Zjon's voice cracked like a whip into the slumbering mind of Rowan Battleflight.

"All right, all right. I'm up all ready." Rowan responded groggily as the world around him came into focus. A fire's dieing embers glowed in the half-darkness, illuminating the one-room cottage. The light flickered across a cot, not unlike the one Rowan was currently occupying, and then danced over the sturdy oaken table that was located in the center of the room. Two chairs, made of pine, were decorated the edge of the table. Seated in one of these was a strong old hedgehog, Rowan's foster father, Zjon. The light glinted off the few pots and pans hung from the wall, simple things made of scrap-metal. As Rowan scrambled out of his bed and began to dress he glanced over at the sturdy wooden door where a haversack hung from a peg, it had the neglected look of something that had not been used for a long time. Under the pack, a walking stick leaned against the stone wall. It was a sturdy object, made of mahogany and polished to a dull gleam. A bow was slung diagonally across the wooden door, a powerfully built weapon, the maker had had one purpose in mind for it: to kill. Zjon never used it; he kept it only in case of an attack, an event that had not troubled the Borderlands in many years.

"Breakfast is ready." Zjon announced, throwing Rowan a hard oat scone. It hit him in the side of the head and fell to the floor with a hollow thunk. Rowan bent down and retrieved the morsel, dusting it off as he walked to the table.

"Plenty off work t' do t'day." Zjon commented.

"Huh, when isn't there?" Rowan responded through a mouth full of bread.

Zjon continued as though there had not been an interruption, "Got t' plow the field. We might git through 'alf ifin we're lucky."

"Righ'," replied Rowan, stifling a yawn, "Let's get started then."

The two of them proceeded to the tool shed chatting amiably. Zjon opened the door of a small rickety shed and beckoned Rowan inside.

"Well 'ere's mine," said the hedgehog taking down a large hoe from two wooden pegs, "an' 'ere's yours." He continued, passing Rowan a slightly smaller hoe. "The field won' plow isself, less get to work."

Rowan sighed and set out into the half-lit dawn, hoe held in his powerful paws. It was not that he did not like his life here, he always had enough to eat and Zjon was kind to him, but it seemed that his life was lacking something. If asked he couldn't name what was creating such a void in his existence, but something told him that his life was not meant to be simply filled with mundane farm work. The dark soil sunk slightly underneath his paw steps as he made his way across the field. He positioned himself at one end of the field and began to drag his hoe through the soil. The sun rose, shining its bright rays down upon the toiling creatures. Rowan lifted his paw and wiped away the sweat that was beading on his brow, that's when he heard it; a deep and distant rumble that seemed to be approaching quickly. "Zjon, do you hear thunder?" he questioned absently.

"Thunder? Rowan, there ain't a cloud in the sky, how can you be a'hearin' thunder? Sometimes I fear that sun be a-cookin' yer brains."

But it soon became apparent that there was a noise coming toward them. Not wanting for Zjon to think any less of him, he ignored the sound and continued working. At noon Zjon went back into the cabin for a break and Rowan wandered into the surrounding forest to find something edible. He sat down under an apple tree that he had often enjoyed the shade of and began to munch on the sweet fruit that it bore, watching as the rose-tinted leaves descended lazily from the boughs.

He didn't remember his eyes slipping shut or his mind traveling to the land of slumber, but what seemed like a couple moments later he found himself blinking into awareness. All was dark around him and the glowing moon shown like a silver sliver in the velvet sky. He shivered in the cold night air and stood. The first thought that entered his head was one of Zjon and how livid the old hedgehog would be at Rowan's absence from the work that had to be done. Then, as he thought about it for a bit, he realized that if his foster father knew that he was missing he wouldn't just wait around for Rowan to show up. He would have taken some form of action. As these thoughts ran rampant through the young squirrel's mind his nerves began to tighten and terrible visions of what could have happened to his guardian washed over him. He bolted through the forest, regardless of the twigs and sticks that scratched his running body.

Panting, he dashed into the field that housed the farm and gasped at the scene that lay before him. Where the house had stood was now only a smoldering pile of ash and scorched debris. The field where Rowan had been planting new crops just that morning was trampled by what looked to have a thousand footpaws. He sunk down on knees in a twisted mixture of sorrow and shock, tears running in rivers down his despairing face. Zjon! Where was Zjon? He threw himself into a headlong sprint toward the wreckage and frantically began to dig through the blackened objects. What he found sent a new wave of grief crashing through his already distressed form. It was the mutilated form of the strict, yet kindly hedgehog. Blood was caked all over what had been his living, breathing body. Glazed, dead eyes stared up at the horrified squirrel in a gaze of permanent fear. The cause of his death was a horrific tear across his throat that was still oozing fluids. A shout full of all the emotions that were whirling around in his mind, his soul tore from his vocal chords and he stood and ran as far from that place as he could.

He took no heed of direction, he just simply ran, ran as far and his hard as he could before collapsing from exhaustion. As he lay on the ground, breathing hard and foaming at the mouth, he became aware of the bitter cold that surrounded him, engulfing him, becoming a part of him. His body began to shake like a leaf in a high wind and his teeth chattered uncontrollably, but he did not care. Nothing mattered anymore. Zjon was dead, his home destroyed, and his life utterly and completely meaningless. White flakes began to cloud his vision, stinging when they landed on him and he realized that it was snowing. "Yes!" he shouted bitterly at the slate gray sky, "Yes! Just kill me now and get it over with! Kill me!" He cackled insanely as the snow formed an icy cold, watery blanked, numbing his whole being as he drifted unconscious.

Two creatures had heard his morbid cries, carried by the wind, Kinliv the squirrel and Keemin Tae the mouse. With a quick glance at one another the two tore off across the snow covered wasteland toward the desperate shouts. The arrived at the scene and began to clear away the sheet of snow that covered the seemingly lifeless creature, pulling his frozen body from the white mass that enclosed him. Kinliv snatched some flint and tinder from her belt pouch and, clearing away a circle of snow, hit the black stone against her steel dagger and brought forth a flame. With the help of Keem she dragged the freezing squirrel over to the warmth and began to bring life back into his form.

A little while later the young squirrel eased his way back into the realm of the living. "What happened?" He asked, hazel-green eyes looking inquiringly at his saviors.

Kinliv opened her mouth to reply but, for the first time in her life, found herself unable. She seemed to be trapped in those eyes of his and all she could do was stare, mouth slightly agape. She snapped it close and blinked several time as Keem's voice penetrated her dazed state. "We heard your shouts o' despair and decided to see what be the trouble. My name is Keemin Tae, son of Likeam and this is my companion Kinliv. By what do you call ye self?"

"I'm known as Rowan Battleflight. I thank you for saving my life." He said with a small smile.

Rowan. The name fell upon the ears of Kinliv like the sound of one-thousand silver chimes, strong yet beautiful. Rowan Battleflight. Suddenly, more than anything in the world, Kinliv wanted to impress this creature, get him to notice her. It was the oddest feeling she had ever had in her life, but being a creature of instinct, she said the first thing that came to mind, "Rowan, if thou wish to stay the night, we shall provide food and shelter for thee."

He tuned those magnificent eyes on her and she felt her face grow hot as he smiled gratefully and replied, "That would be wonderful! I thank you both from the bottom of my heart for your hospitality."

Her heart leapt at the prospect of the young squirrel staying with them, followed instantly by confusion came next. Why was she experiencing such odd emotions just by talking to this creature? They were ungainly feelings, awkward, yet somehow pleasurable. She tried to make heads or tales of this sensation as she helped Keem make the soup for dinner. As Rowan was still too weak to move, he simply made conversation as they prepared the meal.

"I come from a farm, down south a ways. 'Twas a pretty place, nice ole' hedgehog took me in an' I lived there for as long as I can remember." The content look that had dominated his features while reminiscing was removed by his next statement, "'Twas only just a little while ago that a band of vermin came to our abode. They razed our farm and murdered Zjon, that was the hedgehog; he was like a father to me. I'll never forgive those vermin. Never! I vow that one day I'm gonna slay him!"

Keem strode over and placed a paw upon his shoulder, "I know how ye feel. I do believe 'twas the same army o' creatures that ruined my life as well. Their leader is a horrible creature who calls himself Radin. He's the leader of yonder band o' death. I too have sworn to kill him. "

Until now Kinliv had remained silent but now spoke in that unchanging tone of hers, "Nary a whisper has passed through mine ears that told of this creature, yet I shall still venture forth with thee to bring his downfall."

Rowan smiled, causing Kinliv's heart to accelerate to an alarming rate, joy simply radiating from her soul. He then said, "Yes, together we shall slay Radin! Yet, we are few and his vermin horde numbers more than the snowflakes that dot the earth, how are we to slay him when so horribly outnumbered?"

Keem spoke slowly as though recalling something from the deepest recesses of his memory, "I have heard of a place, an abbey that lies far to the south, in Mossflower territory. It is said that the creatures that dwell there be of a peaceful order, yet nary an evil beast has ever been able to take the place by force. Maybe we could seek assistance there."

"Mossflower!" Kinliv gasped, "That is countless leagues away. It will take us at least a season to reach there on paw. We have not the time nor provisions."

Rowan had the solution, "Well as to the provisions problem, the town of Baeown lays only a day's march from where I used to reside. We could stock up on resources there. And who says we have to travel by paw? The northern branch Guosim used to visit our farm regularly. We could locate them and simply travel by boat."

"Brilliant, Rowan!" Kinliv said, her beaming face illuminated by the dying firelight.

"Yes, that should work nicely." Keem nodded. "Well, if no beast objects, I think I'll be a-turning in. Kinliv if ye wish to take fist watch I'll be a-taking the morning one. Rowan you better sleep the entire night, recover your strength, it seems that tomorrow is going to be a rather eventful day."

The other two creatures nodded in agreement. Rowan fell asleep almost as soon as his eyes shut; having nearly escaped death that day had taken a toll on his body, leaving him close to exhaustion. Keem on the other hand tossed and turned, trying in vain to reach the realms of slumber. Eventually he forsook his attempts and rose to join Kinliv by the fire. He padded up to her softly and sat down next to her. She did not jump or startle, for she had been aware of all his movements, and instead simply turned her head to face him, then inclined it in a gesture of welcome. For a while neither creature spoke, both lost in their own thoughts. It was Keem who broke the silence.

"What be your opinion of yonder squirrel?" he said, gesturing with his head in the direction of the sleeping Rowan.

"I think he is a great and wonderful being." Stated Kinliv. At this Keem chuckled softly and in confusion Kinliv questioned, "Why art thou laughing? What have I said something to cause such mirth?"

"The way you be a talking, it sounds like you're falling in love with this creature." Keem replied with a grin.

The young squirrel gasped, blushing fiercely. Love? No, it could not be. Love was a weakness and the weak could not survive. "I do not love that squirrel," she said and, though she tried to keep her tone its usual neutral self, her voice shook slightly, "I have only just made his acquaintance."

"Methinks thou dost protest too much." Keem stated with a slight smile, "Ah well, I believe sleep is finally coming over me. Wake me up for my watch if it pleases ye. May ye sleep soundly and let not an evil thought enter your head as ye dream." And with that statement he strode back to his ground pallet and fell into a deep sleep. Kinliv, however, stayed up, pondering.

More A/N: Slightly longer chapter, eh? I hope you liked it. In my opinion the dialogue is rather awkward, it'll get better though. Please, please, please review, I really want feed back for this story. K, Thanks!