Yeah, it's been ages, as usual. Most of that was my fault, I admit, 'cause PH has had her part of the chapter ready since... October. Sorry...
One more thing.
This chapter is dedicated to Jaymen, whom I wish could have stayed with us longer. I guess I'm just glad that he got to stay with such a wonderful foster family for the few weeks he enetered our lives, and got to feel their love.
oh.. yeah.. I forgot about that.. anyways, yeah, UPDATE!!!! I know, i'm sure you're all thinking gasp! an update, I thought they had died and gone to unfathomable depths never to return! but yes, we're baack!! - enjoy!
"ROWEN!!!!!" yelled a small squirrel maid, "Getcha back o'er 'ere!!! Doncha leave us 'lone!" A small fuzzy brown head popped out from behind a tree.
"Wotcha want sistah?"
" 'Wotcha want'!!?? I wancha comma down 'ere an' worka you tail offn!" she said while glaring at him, for he had been naughty and skipped his etiquette class: how to survive in the wild.
"I donna wanna go bakka dere!! Dat for sissies!! I staya out 'ere an' be wild 'n freez!" Here he pulled out a three cornered leather hat from behind his back and put it on his head, it obviously didn't fit… drooping over his eyes to where he couldn't see anything, he bore it proudly.
"I finda dis hat frumm da tree tops! Is mine!"
"It don't fitch yer!! Comma down 'ere 'fore Mista Chiwaxe choppa off you tail!" At this Rowen glared at his twin, but slowly made his way down the tree, stepping out boldly.
"I'm notta fraid of no wolfey beast! I showwa dem! Cummon Roann, less go get Ash'reeze an' Daisy."
At this, he grabbed his twin's arm and hurriedly led her back to the camp.
When they finally got back to the camp they were met with the sight of a Fox teaching them proper table manners, "which," he said "You'll have to use in future missions." There was also a stoat there that was eating very sloppily, enjoying getting the pleasure to be in this position. The fox looked over from correcting Ashbreeze's incorrect salad eating (telling him that you don't cut it up, rather just stuff it in your mouth all at once) to see the twins coming in, late.
"And wot have you two been up to, eh?" he spoke in the civilized tongue that the warlord made his horde talk in.
"Nutting," was the unanimous reply.
Chillaxe was thinking.
Now that he had the dibbuns, he had to wait and let them grow, before he could use them against the abbey. Until then he needed to get them away from anything familiar, so all thoughts and memories would leave them. So, as he was racking his brain to think of where to go, he wondered about places he hadn't been yet.
Southsward! That was the place for him! Though, to make the long journey in the middle of summer would be torture. Wait until fall, that's it. Then he would go and make his move across the treacherous desert. Which, with his horde, would take a good amount of seasons: three at least. Most likely four, traveling across the middle. He knew that there were plenty of clans down there, including the one that had evaded him – Galedeep. He had never been able to find a Galedeep wherever he looked. Shellhound, Wavelough, Streamdog, and many others were added to his long list, but not that one. No, he had special plans for the first one he met.
But what to do until then... sometime the babes would have to learn the arts of warfare. But not until they were slightly older… he didn't need soldiers with arrows protruding from their heads from misfired arrows. Figuring what each babe should use was another matter; the male twin would be no question, a bow would suit him just fine… the other male, Ashbreeze, definitely a sword of some type. The squirrel maid would be harder; trial would be best. So she would have to wait. The mouse – she was a slight disappointment, but would be necessary for later on. She was much too timid to ever strike another beast.
Chillaxe fell back upon his cot, to rest from his tiresome day. Only to awaken to the sound of yelling from the camp…
Ripwave snarled at Traetor and Ragefang, sweeping a gilded tray off his table with a clatter. The contents of the tray spilled along the floor, mostly raw meat leaked juice into the wood while the captains tensed with fear.
Traetor, a battle scarred wildcat, didn't give his partner a second glance, hoping to be the one captain that stayed in his job. Or at least stayed alive.
Ragefang, a sleek and commanding weasel missing his left eye, swallowed nervously.
"You fools!" Ripwave finally said, eyes gleaming with malice. "That was a total disgrace! Chased off like mere bandits, we were!"
Neither captain dared say that they only followed orders.
"We could've had 'em! If it wasn't for—"
A timid knock on the door interrupted his speech. Ripwave whirled to the door, bellowing.
"Who dares disturb me!? Open that door, sharpish!"
A slave quickly ran to the door and slid it open while the two captains looked at each other and nodded: certain death for the unfortunate fellow. Although, sentencing someone else to death might ease his anger against them.
A lowly rat – was Mooneye his name? – slunk in.
"Well?" Ripwave barked.
Mooneye gulped; he could see the murder in his eyes.
"High Captain, s—sir. When you was all out fightin', and Rotgut and I was guardin' the ship, sir, we saw a badger kid and captured him," he faltered, "sir," he finished weakly, trying hard to hide his trembling paws.
Ripwave smiled, not a particularly pretty sight, but far better than his wrathful sneer.
"Very good, Mooneye. Pr'aps some of my crew have a bit o' brains to rub together. You and yer friend, Rotgut, will be promoted to captains instead o' these blitherin' oafs.
Mooneye could hardly believe his luck. The two captains winced.
"I reward initiative, Mooneye. Remember that."
"Yes, sir, always, sir, thank you, sir."
In spite of his dread, Traetor very nearly chuckled, but swallowed it at the last moment. Thankfully, Ripwave took it as a gulp of fear.
"What shall I do with the prisoner, sir?"
Ripwave considered it for a moment.
"Get him hitched up to the galley slave line. An' make sure his chains are strong!"
Mooneye hastily nodded and bowed, before turning around.
"Wait! Ragefang, give him your hat," Ripwave said.
Ragefang regretfully removed his captain's hat and handed it to Mooneye, who took it rapturously and placed it askew on his own head.
Skyborne woke up with a groan, rubbing the back of his head dazedly. He sat up slowly; he was in utter darkness and rocking gently back and forth.
"Where—"
He realized his feet were bound and his wrists were cuffed to something he couldn't see. His mind raced to figure out what had happened. Suddenly, he remembered running, and getting hit. He had been captured.
"I'll be the laughingstock of my bloodline," he muttered ruefully. "Captured by pirates. What a glorious ending of such noble blood. By the fur, Sky, you've really done it this time. What would Moge say?"
A door opened and Skyborne turned to face it, squinting at the sudden light.
Ten strong pirates stood at the entrance with rope and swords.
"Okay stripedog," one said with a overburdened hat that looked far too large. "Come with us, easy-like, and it'll be a sight less painful for you."
They surrounded him and at least four swords were jabbed into various painful places, as a warning. He growled, but didn't move, as they adjusted his shackles and cut the rope around his feet. A dagger was at his throat in a moment.
"Off to the galley, me hearties!" he said, laughing and digging the dagger in enough to draw a trickle of blood.
Skyborne winced, and walked with them, every movement jabbing something sharp into him as the pirates laughed.
"He's so brave now! Goin' to join your daddy in a fight, eh?"
"Not any time soon! Harharhar!"
"Lookit him stagger, the weak beast!"
"Oop! Don't fall down the stairs, ikkle stripey!"
When he finally made it to the galley, he was heavily chained next to an elderly otter. The crew left after a few parting jabs, and another rat stepped out of the shadows, cracking his whip viciously.
"Don't sit there and gawk, yew old bags o' bones!" he roared. "Yew, laddo, row hard to earn yer supper. And someone start up a good ol' mournful dirge!"
The otter next to Skyborne started singing and the rest joined in, rowing in time to the song.
Row lads, row lads, row!
Oh row, lads, row!
Oh, have you e'er seen a pirate ship,
With a rose upon its prow?
Oh ne'er I did, no, ne'er I did,
No, ne'er I did, nohow.
Row lads, row lads, row!
Oh row, lads, row!
Oh, have you e'er seen a ship of any kind,
My sailor boy?
Oh ne'er I did, no, ne'er I did,
No, ne'er a ship ahoy.
Row lads, row lads, row!
Oh row, lads, row!
Oh, have you e'er been to Mossflow'r wood,
In depths of wintry snow?
Oh ne'er I did, no, ne'er I did,
No, ne'er shall I go.
Row lads, row lads, row!
Oh row, lads, row!
Oh, have you e'er seen a tree,
Growing straight, growing tall?
Oh ne'er I did, no, ne'er I did,
No, ne'er seen a tree at all.
Row lads, row lads, row!
Oh row, lads, row!
And that is the song I've been waiting to put in here since July. Aiyee...
And she didn't even do all of it... but yeah, hopefully the chappys somewhat longevity shall make you all feel better and get your Revenge .. thingy.. yeah... heh.. anyways.. yeah, please review puppy dog eyes