They really were mad, this entire lot of creatures. 'Vermin?' What in Siren's name is that supposed to mean? The two otters – thin things that looked as if something had stripped away all their protective coating – and squirrel who half-led, half-dragged Rea through the wrecked streets of a city kept calling her that with a mixture of disgust and awe. They named themselves woodlanders and the dreamsayer tried to explain that she, too, in fact, lived in the woods, but did that matter to the bedraggled little gull droppings?

"Fates, but this one's thick, Tack," the squirrel snorted.

"Aye, Resin. But ye can't blame her, matey." Tack shook his head in mock sympathy. "Vermin get dumber with increasin' size, ye know. Has t'do with the brain stayin' the size o' a chestnut an' the head swellin' up." He turned his attention from the squirrel to the wolf he led by a rope around her neck. "Now, ye jist tell good ole Tack, an' his mates Resinpaw an' Jibe what ye were doin' floatin' near our ships an' we might play nice with ye, uh…" the otter paused, staring at her with confusion evident on his face, "whatever ye are."

"My name is Rea and I'm a wolf," Rea growled indignantly. "And a dreamsayer. How dare you tie me up like this! When my alpha hears about how you've treated me so far…" Calm down. Calm down, that's not helping, she thought reluctantly, reigning in her temper and letting the threat die away. Remember, say what they want and think what you will. Best way to deal with Grannie. Best way to deal with every other ignorant moron.

"Look," the wolf continued in more measured tones, a mask of quiet contempt settling on her features. "I was near your ships because that's where I rowed to from the Isolus. The Kota were kind enough to let me travel with them," Dull sailors that they are. "but they didn't want to come too close to shore for all the catastrophes we knew might have befallen this island."

"And why would you know anything about the catastrophes, if you don't have anything to do with this place?" Resinpaw demanded. That's not a question; it's a howling accusation!

"I told you," Rea just managed to turn an eye roll into a redirection of her gaze at the squirrel, "I'm a dreamsayer." You'd think the accolades and apologies would be showering by now. I didn't train for ten seasons just to get trussed up like a gull on Kinane's Feastday!

"If ye want t'play dumb that's yer own choice," Jibe grumbled. He assisted Tack, leading the wolf by a rope binding her paws. "But quit talkin' nonsense."

"You're the ones talking nonsense!" The dreamsayer lost her poise. "I came to help the creatures inhabiting this island, not deal with idiots who wouldn't know a lemming from a caribou!"

"So you admit it!" Resinpaw pointed an eager paw at her. "You're here to help the other vermin."

"Yes!" Rea snarled, stopping and bringing the otters to a halt with a jerk of resistance. The trio of 'woodlanders' immediately put up their guard, Resinpaw reaching for an axe at his side. "If that's who lives here. Do I have to spell it out for you, Pine-resin-for-brains?"

The squirrel and wolf glared at each other until finally, the smaller creature looked away. "She's not right in the head, lads. We'll get nothing out of her like this." A smirk crept across his face as he added, "Anyway, I don't think I like that crazy tongue of hers…or those teeth. Let's fix them."

---

A muzzle. A muzzle! Of all the humiliations suffered so far, this was by far the worst. They didn't even untie me! the dreamsayer shouted in her head as she was shoved unceremoniously into a dark room, a low growl emanating from her chest. Howling egg-brained, dry-nosed, tundra-eating… After a few moments of screaming obscenities in her head, she turned her yellow gaze sharply to the other prisoners who seemed to take a collective step back. Oh, for the love of Siren.

She ignored the two foxes and weasel-thing and worked at freeing herself from her bonds, taking little notice of her surroundings outside the fact that they smelled like dust and rotting vegetables. But no sooner had she removed the muzzle and ropes than the door opened and a very vocal crate was tossed in by a lemming-like creature. Curious as to the contents of the box, the wolf watched it carefully until its seething occupant slithered out. What's that thi–!

Rea stood so abruptly that she nearly toppled over, tripping on her own footpaws. Ears flat along her skull, tail between her legs, and teeth bared in the hopes that whatever the Nightmare that thing was would leave her alone, the terrified wolf backed up, still facing the thing. Her paw flew to her right cheek where no fur grew, only an ugly, uneven patch of pink-red skin.

Scales. The thing looked like a cross between a tree limb and a thick rope with eyes. But those scales! She was about to make short work of the nearest wall to effect her escape – the water damage surely wouldn't hold up to her claws – when the monster called out to her.

"Please!" The wolf felt herself go rigid, legs no longer responding to her urgent signal to run as far away as physically possible.

The hawk's body crashed into her, throwing her tiny frame into the hard-packed snow. "Rea!" a nearby wolf, slate gray in color, screamed, trying to pull the avian off as it raked its talons across her face. Its yellow eyes were hungry and its gaping maw spewed hot spit in her face. "Get off of her!" Leandre, her older cousin, clamped his jaws onto the bird's thigh and tried dragging his own claws through its feathers.

Blood, not all of it her own, obscured Rea's vision so that the only distinct parts of the hawk were its face and legs. "Arrrooo!" She howled at and with the bird as its talons ripped out chunks of her flesh. Terror and pain tore any sort of sense a five-seasons-old pup could have from her as she kicked and bit and punched, all the while shrieking. "Leandre! Please! Save me! Please!"

The dreamsayer could recall every detail of the hawk's features down to the cracks in its hooked beak, but what she remembered most of all were the talons. And the scales.

The slithering thing began trying to reason with them, and the others in the room responded to it as if they knew what it was and recognized it as a danger. Well good. At least they were all on the same page and…and why the Nightmare were they listening to it? Accepting it? Not killing it! Stop! Stop it now! Rea did her best to gulp down a yelp and focus on what the weasel-thing had just said. Escape was good thing. Escape and go…where?

The Kota had proved decidedly unhelpful, informing her only that the island they had reached, as per the vague directions offered by Grannie Lightbringer, was called Evnara. If she wanted to complete the mission with which the elder dreamsayer had tasked her, Rea realized that she needed more information and that meant talking to her fellow prisoners. Her eyes wandered across them and she immediately ruled out the small fox that currently played host to the scaled monster about her neck. That left the weasel-thing and the other fox.

"You're hurt." The words escaped before the wolf could halt them. Staring at the pair of creatures, trying to decide which to approach first, she finally noted the bandages on the mustelid's shoulder. A smear of pink colored the back of the otherwise white cloth and Rea instinctively reached for her pouches of herbs. Of course, they weren't there. The stupid creatures who'd captured her so rudely had stolen them along with her pack. She ignored the inconvenience and began edging along the wall, keeping a close eye on the little vixen and her…'friend.' Rea tried approaching the weasel-thing, reaching out toward her shoulder. "How did that hap–?"

"None of your business," the black-clad female cut her off, backing away with her ears pointing forward aggressively. "Don't come near me."

"I was only trying to help." Rea felt her hackles rise in response. "What's your problem?"

"Woodlanders locking me up," the mustelid replied shortly. "What's yours?"

"Moronic beasts who don't know what's in their best interest," the wolf snapped back and turned to stalk away before recalling that her new cell was only about five strides long. Not exactly the dramatic exit she'd hoped for after such an outrageous reaction to an offer for help. Muttering to herself about the idiocy of all creatures outside the Circle, she turned to her only other viable option.

"Do you know what in Siren's name is going on here?" Rea demanded of the older fox without preamble, stepping up to her and carefully sidling around so that the smaller creature was between herself and the scaled beast.

"I beg your pardon?" the vixen blinked. "Do you think you could narrow that question down?"

"I mean, what's been happening?" Relieved that this one wasn't being so reticent, the wolf let the bark fade from her voice. Now the confusion and fear returned in force. "I was sent here by my pack to deal with the catastrophes – the storm, and the plague that drives creatures mad. Those have happened, right? But when I arrived, three beasts tied me up, calling me a 'vermin,' and threw me in here." Wherever 'here' happens to be. "What's a vermin? They wouldn't tell me! It must be something bad." She looked over the fox to the little vixen and her companion and whispered conspiratorially, "Is that scaled thing a vermin?"

"My name is Pearl," the vixen replied.

"Eh?" It took a moment for the wolf to realize that the fox was introducing herself. "Oh, yes. I'm Rea, a dreamsayer of the Lightbringer pack. When I tell my alpha about what these beasts are doing on this island, you can bet…" She trailed off, the paw she had raised in rightful indignation falling slowly to her side. She realized that she was rambling and had no idea what the otters and squirrel who had captured her were doing here. "Eh…" her voice sounded smaller as the realization that she was almost completely ignorant in this situation dawned on her.

Pearl smiled in a disarming way. "As I said. It's best we all just calm down. You're obviously confused and the hostility of certain creatures in the room," she allowed the tiniest hint of disapproval to enter her otherwise placid voice, "isn't helping." Hmph! I'll howl to that! "Now, you asked what's been happening, but you already know, which is strange because you don't seem to come from this place." Well, aren't you the clever little thing? Stop that. She's trying to help, at least. "The storm came, then Martin's Madness, and now these woodlanders–"

"Woodlanders!" Rea interjected, wagging her tail like a pup, excited by the familiar word. "They said that, too. That they were 'woodlanders.'"

"Yes," the vixen continued, a brief smile lighting her face. "They call themselves Felldoh's Heirs and have come for some purpose. I don't know what it is. They started out just watching, but then they…took my kit…"

"They stole your kit?" Rea asked incredulously. "Why?"

"I-I don't know," Pearl faltered. "In any case, vermin are all creatures that are not woodlanders. Stoats, weasels, foxes, rats, snakes like that scaled creature there–"

"Pine martens," the wounded female added. "Woodlanders are rich, well-fed snobs. That's all you need to know."

"Huh! 'Snobs' my backside," the voice of the lemming-thing chittered from the door. "Yer lucky we're nice enough t'put you up in proper rooms rather than those dungeons you have for yer own kind. Ungrateful, that's what vermin are. Ungrateful, rude, an' boring. You lot're about as dull as wax arrowheads. Throw a snake in an' you jist talk an' talk!" Before the prisoners could respond, they heard the patter of the guard's footpaws as he scuttled away to more 'interesting' pursuits.

"They also like to stick their noses into other creatures' business," the marten sneered quietly.

"And abduct innocent travelers!" a muffled voice growled from the wall to the left of the door. It wasn't very loud, but deep enough to be distinct.

The females exchanged looks before approaching the source of the voice. "Hello. Who's there?" Rea asked, pressing an ear against the wall.

A long pause. "…You can hear me?" He's a clever one, Rea thought, rolling her eyes, but keeping her comments to herself. This was a chance to gain more creatures. Greater numbers meant more minds. More minds, even ill-equipped ones, meant more ideas. And more ideas meant a better chance of escape.

"Only just," Pearl remarked when the wolf did not reply. Rea had forgotten about the wall when she caught sight of the little vixen and snake in the corner of her eye. She edged away and let the older fox take over, trying to reason with herself and keep her heartbeat under control. This is not a bird. It's a snake. It has scales, but no claws. It's tiny. It can't hurt me. It can't hurt me. "Is there some way to break this wall a bit?" the vixen asked.

"Uh…probably."

Both sides went to work looking for weaknesses, the dreamsayer maintaining a 'safe' distance from the little fox. No task is too great for many paws, the old saying went. Rea just hoped that these paws would help her. What they would help with she had no idea. Ambiguous didn't even begin to cover Cayenne's instructions to her young apprentice. But Rea had to do something. Anything to stop the dreams that were coming more frequently…and vividly.