This was supposed to be Chapter 3 but I felt it needed to be fleshed out a bit more. Surprised I was able to get it done as soon as this, but no complaints here. Please let me know what you think. All feedback is greatly appreciated.

Seabane held himself for warmth. The first snow of the season hadn't fallen but frost stuck to the fields and forests of Mossflower until the late morning. The days were getting colder and the forests, once ringing with their many hues of color, were fading into a cold grey. He hated mornings like these. Mornings where the life was sucked out of you before you open your eyes. Seabane had been restless. He tossed and turned on the cold earth all night until the chill of a morning breeze woke him up for good. The rest of the sleeping vermin lie circled around the embers of a long-dead fire at the bottom of a shallow ditch. It was their one defense from the winter chills that woke Seabane. Tired and miserable he got up and stretched life into his legs. He slowly sauntered up the ditch and leaned against the trunk of a large oak, which was currently losing its yearly battle with nature, and surveyed his crew.

They look like a bunch of savages, Seabane quietly thought to himself.

Admittingly Seabane couldn't remember how long it had since they had deserted the horde, all the days just blended as the travel had taken a toll on the vermin. Everybeast was covered in a fine grime, their clothes were torn from traversing through the woods, and Seabane was sure they all smelled awful (not that it mattered to them). The past two days had been a mad scramble southward after Sathe returned to them after running into an otter holt. Caked in mud, bleeding from her ear Sathe somehow managed to find the vermin camp in the dead of night. When she returned the seer was hysterical, sobbing and raving about how she had found the river but was attacked by otters and shrews. Seabane was going to strangle her as he had suspected that this was all a ruse by Sathe to save her from lying about her river. However, before Seabane could get his claws around her throat, the vermin heard the cries from the furious otters and shrews still hunting for Sathe. Seabane decided that it would be smarter to deal with the seer at a different time.

Ever since that night, the vermin hadn't slept well. The food they had brought with them had run out, and after the storm had passed the air had gotten colder. They jumped at any snapping twig or gust of wind and Seabane was finding it was harder to stop their squabbles and the doubts they had about the journey. He had resorted to using Marrow as muscle when he couldn't convince them verbally. With Silvertoungs paw still injured, Seabane had offered Bloodclaws assistance to help the mother with her kits, which she gratefully accepted. The fox had been angry to be assigned to watch the young, until Seabane along with Marrow, had convinced Bloodclaw that it was his best option.

Seabane looked down at the sleeping giant. All the other vermin slept huddled together or close to the fire for warmth, all but the white rat who lie away from them, his back to Seabane. They all desperately clung to whatever cloak or heavy coat they wore to protect themselves from freezing. All except for Marrow who seemed almost indifferent to the cold wearing nothing but the kilt around his waist. Seabane didn't understand him. Trying to determine what the rat was thinking was like staring into deep water. There was always something dangerous under the surface that threatened to pull you down if you fell in. You could never quite see what it was which was the terrifying part. Marrow hadn't said a word since the escape, but he made his presence clear to the rest of the crew easily enough. The vermin spoke in hushed tones to each other, and all bickering ended when he drew near.

There was another thing Seabane worried about. Why did Marrow follow him around like a lost babe! It was helpful when he was sick of the bickering between the vermin, but the white rat still bristled the fur on his neck. He wasn't completely sure he could trust him, not when he could easily slay all of them. It didn't help that Seabane still didn't understand all that had happened that fateful night they deserted the hoard. In hindsight, he had no reason to believe Marrow. The only reason he trusted him was the fact that his premonitions of doom had saved him once before and Marrow's claims had seemed to have validated their desertion. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was leading his new crew from one certain death to another.

Seabane stared intensely into the insignia of Zidar's horde tattooed into Marrow's back. He knew that cursed skull would torment him for the rest of his days. All the savagery that he and his crew had been forced to endure. Whether it was being hunted down by bloodthirsty hares or watching some poor vermin getting ripped apart by Zidar for stealing vittles during the cold of winter. He didn't know which fate was worse. No matter the threat the black badger's skull was there, watching, stalking, taunting him. Even now it spoke to him.

Oh, Captain Seabane, you've saved them from an inevitable death as horde beasts, but you cannot save them from themselves. When they realize that you too are a coward and a fool, they will desert you or die as did those on the Damnation and in Zidar's horde. Remember you can save them from others or themselves, not both.

"No, they won't. We'll make it south and never have to worry about being ruled by a monster again."

The skull laughed at Seabane.

And how will you do so? Will you join another horde to be slain by the goodbeasts of Mossflower? Or will you try to become docile like the woodlanders, only to be killed by vermin who see you as an easy target? That's the chattering of a beast who doesn't know his place in the world. You are vermin and you will only ever be vermin. Eventually, you too will become the monster you are running from, and you can't escape that.

Seabane quietly snarled and glared deeply into the skull's white eyes. "I won't let that happen."

"Who are ye talking to?"

Seabane's head snapped back, slamming into the oak he was leaning against and pulling him from his trance. He hadn't noticed Muckfur slink out of the ditch.

"Did ya hear me, you old rat? Who were ye talking to?"

Seabane glared venomously at the weasel as he rubbed his now throbbing head.

"Yar, I didn't say anything. Don't sneak up on me unless you want me to cut ye tah ribbons!" Seabane snapped back.

"Course ya didn't." sneered Muckfur ignoring the threat. "You were just blabberin' away to yourself like Herrik. Are ya sure yer not as mad as he is?"

"Shaddup and make a fire." Seabane snarld at him. The weasel left the rat to gather firewood with a smug look on his face. Seabane watched him go with a foul temper.

Seabane was sick of dealing with the Mukfur who had been one of the biggest thorns in his side ever since they left the horde. He was always getting into scraps with the other vermin and it wasn't helping the morale of the crew. He constantly complained about being the only beast who could provide more than a few roots and nuts, and Seabane wanted to wring his scrawny neck for it.

Seabane caught himself, he couldn't do that. At least Muckfur brought back food. Besides Marrow, he was the only beast who listened to Seabane and did what he was told. More importantly, he did it well. Even when they had escaped, Muckfur had been the one to return to camp and retrieve Sathe. Although it was an addlebrained decision to kill their former officer Bileguts, Seabane couldn't help but feel a vile sense of pleasure that Muckfur had ended the cruel stoat's life. Seabane hated it, but Muckfur had done more to help them all than their so-called leader had. With the skull's words still ringing in his ears, he realized with dread that of all in the crew the first vermin to turn against him would be Muckfur. Then the rest would quickly follow. A horde marches on its stomach and the deserters were no different. A dark wave of fear washed over him. He cursed at the badger skull, and the cold, and the ringing in his ears and slumped to the ground in an exhausted heap. If Muckfur kept bringing back food, Seabane wouldn't slit his throat. But before he could do that Seabane knew that he would have to find something to gain the trust of his crew and himself.

Seabane's head was still ringing when Muckfur had returned and finished making the fire. Seabane had managed to quickly forage some acorns from the surrounding woods which he set to roast on a stone slab close to the flame. Most of the vermin were awake and gathering around the small source of warmth or relieving themselves a short distance from camp. Evidently, most of the vermin slept far better than Seabane, whose eyes were bloodshot from his lack of sleep. Although, he was sure that most of them had slept due to their exhaustion. He was warming himself by their fire when Crooksnout sauntered over to him rubbing the sleep from his tired brown eyes.

"How much food ya think we have left?"

"Not much, clearly or you wouldn't have asked me about it." Growled Seabane. His mood not having been improved with the fire.

The weasel spat into the fire a small puff of steam rose as it hit a lump of glowing coal. Crooksnout had been less than amicable to Seabane after the night of their desertion. Whether it was because Seabane had allowed Marrow, who almost killed Crooksnout, to join the deserters. Or because he had forced Crooksnout to flee with his family, with little warning or plan into the dead of night with winter quickly approaching was anybeasts guess. Seabane believed it was a little of both. Crooksnout plopped down beside Seabane and used a stick to poke at the odd assortment of nuts roasting by the fire. After a while, his face turned sour, and he threw the stick into the fire sending sparks flying toward Muckfur and Sathe. Muckfur cursed and Sathe sprung back trying to avoid the flying embers.

"Watch what yer doing you stupid oaf!" Sathe barked brushing the embers off her coat before returning to her seat. Seabane thought that she was too tired to put up more of a fight. She looked as exhausted as he was.

"If that fire goes out you can start it yerself." Crooksnout snapped back. "It would be nice to see you doing something helpful for once instead of getting us lost ya stupid ferret!" Muckfur snickered at the insult. Sathe's encounter with the otters spooked the vermin and now most refused to listen to her for anything other than ailments for their sore paws. Sathe muttered something foul underneath her breath but didn't respond. She was more focused on warming herself than arguing with Crooksnout which Seabane was thankful for, he didn't need any more squabbling.

Just as Seabane could smell their food burning, he heard a yelp of pain. Thinking the woodlanders have finally caught up to them, he whipped around to face the attackers and drew his blade. Instead of an otter, it was Silvertoung's kit named Twinetail wrestling with Bloodclaw. The weasel's sharp teeth dug into the fur near the end of the fox's tail. "Leggo you!" cried Bloodclaw in desperation. His paw instinctively went for his axe but thought better of it and decided to force the little weasel's mouth open. Twinetail bit down harder, cruel childish mischief gleaming in his eyes. Bloodclaw cried out in pain as he bent over trying to pry open the weasel's mouth when suddenly a blur of dark crimson fur slammed into his rear. He was sent rolling down the ditch landing on his face at the bottom. As Bloodclaw lay in a confused heap, Twinetail and his older brother Ripeye proudly stood at the top of the ditch before running over to their mother laughing maniacally. All the vermin in the camp save Seabane howled with laughter. Even Marrow who was usually stone silent made a guttural chuckle. Bloodclaw jumped up flush with embarrassment as the vermin were rolling with laughter.

"If yer kit does that again I'll... I'll... split his head open!" Bloodclaw furiously shouted at the vermin. No beast seemed to notice his threat. Even as the fox brandished his axe, which humorously to the other vermin looked as big as he was the jeering continued.

"Be careful with that axe little fox, ye might cut yer tail off!" Laughed Crooksnout, ignoring the threat to his kin.

"The mighty Ruddy brought down by a weasel kit, what a warrior!" Taunted Sathe. Seabane expected a further jab to come from Muckfur but he couldn't control his laughter enough to speak.

Still clutching his axe in an attempt to look intimidating, Bloodclaw stood shaking with rage. Humiliated and furious he turned from the fire and stalked away from the vermin, cursing all of them under his breath.

"Bring us back some vittles while yer gone, Ruddy." Crooksnout called after him. His mocking tone only adding insult to injury.

Bloodclaw soon vanished from sight and Seabane sheathed his blade, soon everybeast returned to their glum mood. "Stupid fox." Crooksnout turned his gaze to the fire. "We need more food 'n shelter, Seabane. Silvertoung can't keep going on with her paw all torn up and it's getting colder. I can barely feel my tail 'n the mornings!"

At the mention of her name Seabane turned to see Silvertoung proudly crooning over her kits after their successful campaign against Bloodclaw. Her foot paw was covered in a dirty wrapping, and she moved with a noticeable limp which had slowed their progress south.

"Have you checked on 'er paw?" Seabane asked Sathe.

Sathe raised her tired eyes from the fire. "I did that last night an I'm all out of fresh wrappings unless ye want to sacrifice yer coat." Her eyes rested on Crooksnout

Crooksnout groaned and pulled his thin vest tighter to his body. He didn't want to sacrifice his one source of warmth if he could help it. "Is there anything else ye can do?"

The seer glared at the weasel. She looked insulted. "I've done all I can. What she really needs is to stay off 'er paw. But that's not happening as she's got kits to take care of and we're still traveling south."

"Looks like you just ran off all the help she's going to git with yer kin Crooksnout." Interjected Muckfur. "You might have to parent yer young instead of strutting around like a fat toad."

"Shaddup Muckfur. If you didn't bring back food, I'd gut you in yer sleep." Snapped Crooksnout. Spittle flew from his mouth.

"I didn't bring four extra mouths to feed, and I don't stuff myself on what little food we have!" Muckfur retorted. Seabane groaned as the two weasels started to jaw at each other.

"Stop bickering fools," Seabane interjected. "Crooksnout you ran off the only beast that was helping yer mate."

Crooksnout snarled at Seabane. "That stupid whelp wet himself when he stumbled over Twinetail. What makes you think we need him?"

"To watch your kin so you can look for food." Seabane snapped back. Everything this morning had been fraying his nerves. "Until you can bring us back some vittles, I don't want to hear your complaining about anyone! We've split our vittles with your mate and kits, the least you could do is start a fire, or scavenge for something the rest of us can eat. Instead of lying around and tucking your tail between yer legs, every time Marrow looks yer way!"

"Then what do ye propose I do Cap'n Seabane?" Shot Crooksnout. "I 'aint a hunter or a scavenger like yew, but I know in a few weeks there's not gonna be anythin' to forage for. I hope you brought us out here with some plan not starve to death."

Seabane opened his mouth but realized he didn't have an answer. They had deserted as soon as they could, not packing anything beyond what they could easily carry. Seabane originally thought they could make it south and live off the land for the winter. The summer had been warmer so it should make sense that the winter would be milder. He was sure they could take anything they needed from some woodlanders if they really had to. However, Seabane wished to keep the killing to a minimum. Taking some vittles and extra clothes never warranted a visitation from the Long Patrol, but murder certainly did.

"We haven't made it far enough south yet." Seabane started with a commanding tone. "We've been slowed down by Silvertoungs bad paw and Sathe leading us in circles. We'll get farther south and then find a nice clearing we can settle down in. Perhaps find some more useful vermin along the way."

Muckfur snorted "Find more mouths to feed when we can't even feed ourselves?"

"Do you have a better idea Muckbrain?" said Seabane sharply.

"Not yet. But once I do, I'll be sure to let you know." There was a hint of treason in his voice.

After eating what little they had, the vermin stomped out the fire and continued their way south. Seabane led in the front of their small procession and the rest of the vermin fanned out behind. After Sathe's directional mishap, the vermin didn't want to take any chances of getting themselves lost again. Bloodclaw had returned shortly before they left. He was still seething and had distanced himself from Crooksnout and Silvertoung. As they winded their way through the trees Bloodclaw found his way to Seabane.

"You seem better. Not too hurt are you?" Seabane asked the fox.

"Of course not!" snapped Bloodclaw. "They're just lucky I didn't kill the little maggots."

"Good you didn't or Crooksnout an Silvertoung would've spilled yer innards."

"No, they wouldn't, Crooksnout is a poor swordsman and Silvertoung can barely walk." Bloodclaw spat just to add emphasis.

At the mention of the hobbled Silvertoung, Seabane glanced back at the weasel family. Silvertoung walked with a limp and was leaning heavily on a makeshift cane that her mate had found for her. Crooksnout was awkwardly carrying their youngest while their older two ran circles around their father fighting battles with each other and their invisible foe. For how little they had Crooksnout looked hilariously over-encumbered.

"Besides, Muckfur told me that if I did Herrik and him would help me slay them. He says I'm already a better warrior than both of those two, and once I slay a few otters I'd be ready to start my own horde."

Seabane turned back to Bloodclaw, a smug grin on the young fox's face.

"I think it takes more than killing a few otters to lead a horde, but it's a start." Seabane began.

"Don't worry I already have it all planned. I'll slay a few hedgehogs, moles, and squirrels here and there, to test my steel and keep myself from starving. Then I'll start hunting some otters! I'll be smart and plan it out. Take my time and lure one or two away from their river camps. Then I'll slay them before they can raise a paw! No quarter! Those stupid brutes 'll have no idea what hit'em until their heads are rolling in the dirt!" Bloodclaw was already congratulating himself on his brilliant strategy.

Seabane remembered sitting around one of the many fires that peppered the vermin horde at night, where the vermin would tell tales of the battles they fought. The young fox would eagerly listen to every tale of war and bloodshed with unwavering attention, no matter how far-fetched they really were. Always wanting every gory detail about how deep the blade was thrust, what the beast's final noises were, and if the injured begged for mercy. Bloodclaws eyes would be filled with a lust for battle and his mind a desire for bloodshed, which is just what the horde needed. His only restraints were his age and his size. Even after he earned the moniker of Ruddy, he still yearned for battle, only this time it was to avenge his damaged pride. Something Seabane knew had led to the untimely deaths of many beasts. Seabane hoped his advice would be enough to keep the young fox alive.

"Iv' ye think they would fall for that than yer a bigger fool than ye look. Riverdogs would've noticed some beast ravaging the countryside and would be on guard. Besides, a trained otter is a much different enemy than a simple hedgehog, even in an ambush. You should know that personally Ruddy."

"Don't think I don't know that!" Bloodclaw snapped back. "Don't think I'm too stupid to know the difference between a mouse and a dirty riverdog! Just because you've slain more beasts than I have doesn't I don't know how to kill a stupid otter!" Clearly, Seabane unintentionally hit a nerve.

Seabane refused to push the matter any further, not wanting to test his own nerve any more than he had to. There was a long pause between the two as they worked their way through the trees. Broken only by a low growling from Bloodclaws stomach.

"Do you think we'll be able to find vittles soon?" Bloodclaws voice took on that of a frightened babe.

Seabane sighed, of all the vermin he couldn't hate Bloodclaw. Yes, Ruddy was a dense fool at times and should learn to keep his mouth shut. But the fox was young, and it was only natural that he wanted to prove himself as so many of his kin have done before. It was all Bloodclaw knew. As far as Seabane was aware Bloodclaw had always been a member of the horde. He didn't know anything about his parents besides that they were probably killed when the fox was a babe. Zidar despised foxes barring most from joining or sending them on more suicidal raids, yet somehow Bloodclaw hadn't been killed or run off (Until recently of course). Whether it was the need for protection from others of his kind, the want to prove himself, or most likely the fact that his life hadn't been cut short yet was any beast's guest. The only thing Seabane knew was that Bloodclaw would listen to almost anything he could tell him. A very wise choice for a fox of so few seasons in Seabane's opinion. It was good to have allies in the horde. Who knew, perhaps the fox would become a great warrior? Only if either of them lived long enough to see it.

"Aye, soon enough. Do you know which roots are edible? Sathe should've told you. Find one to chew on and bring me another as well."

"I don't want no damn roots; I want real vittles!"

"Find some roots or starve." Bloodclaw groaned but started searching the forest floor with the same doggedness as his boasting which probably meant he hadn't eaten much since the night they had deserted. Seabane knew his response wasn't a good one but what other choice did he have? Seabane was just grateful the fox had found something else to occupy him other than fantasizing about fighting otters. He wasn't sure most of the deserters had the strength to fight if attacked.

"Smoke! I see smoke!" Cried Sathe from the rear of the vermin.

Instinctively Seabane stopped and searched the sky, Bloodclaw followed suit. Sathe had been correct a steady stream of smoke streaked the silvery sky above.

"Who is it?" Asked Bloodclaw his voice harder than normal.

"Don't know, but smoke means a fire, and a fire means vittles!" A look of relief washed over Bloodclaw, and he did a little jig. A fire was reignited in the fox's green eyes at the prospect of real food.

"Let's just hope that it isn't the same woodlanders Sathe ran into." Spat Muckfur who had approached them from behind.

"I'll head towards the fire and scout it out, we can make a plan when I get back." Added Seabane with cautious excitement.

"Ya want me ta join ye in seeing what beast made the fire?" Asked Muckfur. Seabane wasn't thrilled with the idea, but he knew the weasel would be the best choice, he was the only one who could get close enough without notice.

"Aye will do, the rest of ye stay here. Can't have the rest of ye all letting whatever beasts know we're coming... At least not yet." Seabane added with a wicked smile. This was the break they needed, they were going to get vittles, one way or another.

"Stay hidden here and keep yar weapons close, we'll be back shortly. Hopefully, without a troop of hares on our tail." Seabane added as he started towards the smoke with Muckfur following closely behind.