Chapter 5
Unpleasant Encounters
Midnight, Day 1
Running around in the numbingly cold rain were two otters, one tall and wiry, the other shorter and gaunt. The chains around their necks clacked madly behind them as they leapt over logs and ducked under branches.
The taller otter, Miena Dawnraft, looked behind them as they ran, squinting through the darkness to ensure they weren't being followed. After The Twilight Serpent crashed, Miena immediately ran towards the tree line and waited for a certain beast to arrive. It took longer than she expected, as the beast she was waiting for was one of the last prisoners to get off of the beach. But she had to meet up with him, she couldn't forgive herself if he died here.
Miena smiled as she looked to her left at Ulfrad Shorepass. He wasn't the strongest or the smartest beast on the island, but she had known him ever since she was a pup. Ulfrad had been close with both of her parents, and occasionally even watched over her when her parents were away.
She knew it was selfish, but she was very glad Ulfrad was here. Out of all the otters in her holt, she trusted him the most.
"Are we bein' followed?" Ulfrad asked as he glanced behind them.
If there was one downside to Ulfrad being here, however, it was his eyesight. Ever since he was a pup, his eyesight has been quite poor. That combined with the darkness meant he was nearly blind and had to rely on Miena to see any threats.
"Nay, it looks like they stopped chasing us," Miena answered. She couldn't hear or see much due to the storm, but even then, there wasn't anything indicating they were being followed. No orders being screamed from behind, no shadows in the night, nothing being slung at them, just nothing.
Ulfrad slowed down, panting heavily as he placed his paw on a nearby tree. "We need to get out of this storm."
Miena nodded in agreement. If there was one thing she regretted, it was not wearing a cloak. Her light blue tunic and vest weren't doing much to protect her from the storm, and looking over at Ulfrad, he wasn't that better off.
"Maybe if we're lucky, we can find a nice cave to freeze in," Miena said jokingly.
Ulfrad looked at Miena unamused before the Skipper chuckled and apologized, "Sorry, force of habit." Ulfrad scowled and turned away, even now, it seemed to him that Miena wasn't taking anything seriously.
Miena scanned the forest for some kind of cover, but there didn't seem to be any that she could see. "We should probably keep moving," Miena muttered in defeat. Ulfrad nodded and walked up to her. The two continued walking through the rain in silence, all the while Miena was scanning the forest around her for threats or shelter.
"Hey, do ye wanna hear a joke?" Miena suddenly asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Nay."
"What do ye call a fox wit'out a tail?"
Ulfrad glared irately at Miena, "Is now the time to be making jokes?"
"Names," Miena said, finishing the joke anyway.
Ulfrad gave an audible snort before turning serious, "Skipper, we're in a grave situation, and ye think it's fine to be joking right now?"
Miena grinned wryly, "Kinda, 'tis better than being sad right now."
Ulfrad grumbled and placed his paws behind his back. Miena's joke probably would've been funny to him if it weren't for the situation they were placed in. "Well right now, ye need to focus on findin' a place to hide from the rain."
Miena crossed her arms, "I am looking, but there's nothing here 'cept fer trees and rocks. Don't think we'll find anything here fer a while."
Ulfrad grunted as he shivered violently. He looked over at Miena, who didn't seem bothered at all. Either she was really good at hiding it, or she was crazy. He was going to ask if she was cold when the two of them heard a voice calling out in the distance.
"Hey! Tornear, Gurn, over here!"
Miena looked over at the source of the voice with confusion. "Who's that? Seems familiar." Squinting her eyes, she could barely make out the shape of a fox wearing a long coat in the distance, who was waving to them.
Ulfrad looked up at Miena impatiently, "What do ye see?"
"A fox," Miena answered.
Ulfrad's gaze hardened as he glared over in the voice's direction, "A fox? What if that's one o' the guards?"
While Ulfrad was sceptical, Miena was focused on something else. Tornear and Gurn, those names sounded familiar.
Miena's eyes went wide as a moment of realisation hit her, she had heard those two names a couple of times on the ship! If her memory served her right, those were the names of the two weasels that sat in the front of the brig. Assuming that was true, the fox calling out to them was probably the fox that helped them all escape.
Miena looked over at Ulfrad knowingly, "Nay, I think that's the fox on the ship, and if he is evil, there's two o' us and one o' him, let's go."
Before Ulfrad could protest, Miena started to walk over to the fox. As she was walking over, the fox froze and stopped waving, before turning around and sitting down on the ground.
Miena raised her eyebrows, that was strange. But she kept walking forward anyway. As she got closer to the fox, a rocky overhang came into view, and sitting underneath that overhang fidgeting with his chains was Vhynias Sharptail. The fox's steely gaze bore into the pair as they approached, his dull brown eyes seemingly glowing in the dark. Grumbling awkwardly, he could only say one thing, "I thought ya were someone else, ya looked like them from afar."
"Nope, 'twas just our wonderful faces." Glad to get out of the rain, Miena crouched down under the overhang and sat down on the mostly dry grass. Ulfrad wearily sat down, eyes fixed on Vhynias. "Hey, I don't think we ever got to thank ye fer givin' all o' us that file. We probably would've been killed if not fer ye."
Vhynias looked down at the ground, responding with a simple, "Okay."
Ulfrad narrowed his eyes, "Don't give him too much credit, he probably only gave us the file so we wouldn't rat him out."
Vhynias muttered indignantly, Ulfrad was correct, but he didn't have to say it outright. He would say something scathing in return, but Vhynias was worried about angering these otters, so he just agreed, "Yes, so what?"
Ulfrad grumbled, he sat leaning against the rocky wall as he glared at Vhynias.
Miena glanced between the two of them before clearing her throat loudly, "So, fox, speaking o' saving beasts, have ye seen any o' the other prisoners run by? Namely those from Redwall?"
Vhynias sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well… 'sides the two of ya? No. But how 'bout ya? Have ya seen any of my crew anywhere?"
"No, we haven't," Ulfrad answered sharply. "If yer so worried 'bout them, go find them yerself."
Vhynias pulled his coat closer to his body, his ears splayed back, "Don't get crass wit' me, if ye keep speakin' to me like that, I'll kick ya out." He suddenly snapped.
"Really? Try it," Ulfrad challenged. Vhynias seemed to immediately regret speaking as he hid most of his body in his coat.
Miena stood up, standing between the two of them and holding her arms out, "Okay, enough! I don't wanna leave 'n go out into the rain, so we're stayin' here. If we're gonna be stuck here 'till the rain gets lighter, let's not fight, aye?"
Vhynias nodded, begrudgingly saying, "Sorry."
Ulfrad didn't respond, but he didn't mock Vhynias anymore, so that was presumably a yes.
Looking between the two, an idea suddenly formed in Miena's head. She began to smile, something that worried Ulfrad. "Miena, what inane idea do ye-"
"Vhyn, I got an idea," Miena suddenly spoke.
Vhynias' fur bristled, "Don't call me that, we're not friends," he snapped.
Miena reeled back, holding up her paws defensively, "Sorry, so 'bout my idea, we all wanna get back home, aye?"
"Yes?" Vhynias said, unsure where this was going.
"Well, why don't we gather up all the Redwallers, yer crew, and the other prisoners and work together to get outta here, eh? With everyone combined, we can get outta-"
"No, no, no," Ulfrad suddenly interrupted her.
Vhynias seemed to shrink into himself, turning away from Miena, "I helped y'all escape, and that's it. The two of ya can stay here 'till it stops raining, but that's it, I'm not helping ya."
"Why are the two o' ye so against working together?" Miena asked, slightly annoyed, "The more beasts we have, the easier it will be to escape." Neither Ulfrad nor Vhynias answered, but from the way they were glaring at each other, the answer was obvious.
Vhynias glanced up at Miena, his lanky body hunching over slightly, "But… I guess until I find my crew… maybe."
Miena smiled, "There we go, that's at least something. So 'tis a deal?"
Vhynias mumbled, "I guess." Miena couldn't help but scoff with amusement. Vhynias already seemed reserved on the ship, but it was much more noticeable without his crew. Admittedly at first, she was worried about having vermin among the prisoners, but if Vhynias was their leader (Something Miena was confused by, this was their choice of leader?), then she felt like she had little to worry about. While there was the possibility this behaviour was an act, Miena was quite good at analyzing others' behaviour, she knew Vhynias' was genuinely like this. In the nicest way Miena could put it, she wasn't worried about Vhynias betraying them because he seemed practically harmless.
Miena blinked, looking up towards the sky as a thunder crack roared above. Vhynias scooted towards an empty corner of the overhang while Ulfrad moved closer to Miena.
"Skipper, can we trust em or his crew?" Ulfrad whispered.
"Probably not fully," Miena admitted, "But what we can accomplish on our own is limited, so we need extra sets of paws. Besides, I think he's loyal 'till he finds his crew at least."
Ulfrad scowled, "As I said earlier, ye can never trust vermin, especially not a fox."
"Maybe so, but on the small chance he is good, we can't leave him behind. Anybeast wit' a good heart deserves to be saved. Besides, 'tis not like we're saints ourselves," Miena said with a smirk.
While Ulfrad and Miena were whispering, Vhynias could hear it all. His ears twitched as he listened to every bit of suspicions and doubts they had about him. That was (mostly) fine, he didn't expect much trust from them anyway. But what he was really worried about was them betraying him first if they somehow thought he'd betray them. He did not want to make these otters angry, because while Vhynias wasn't the weakest fox in the world, he was also the weakest among his crew. I'd probably be crushed in a fight against those two. Boy, do I wish Gurn or Crooked were here right now, they'd protect me. He thought to himself.
He looked down at the grass, fidgeting nervously. He didn't want to be betrayed, but more than anything else, he wanted his crew to be okay. He gazed out into the forest, flinching as another thunder crack boomed from above.
One unlucky stoat from Tiviko's crew hobbled through the forest, clamping a paw against her neck as blood dripped onto the forest floor. After the prisoners escaped, she decided to go ahead and run after them, starting with the bat, Midwyng. But as she fell to the ground, eyes wide with terror, she realised too late that it was a mistake to do so. She lay upon her back, staring up at the black shape above her. Her body went cold, and the last thing she heard was the sound of almost childish giggling coming from the bat above her.
Midwyng Copetigo was hanging upside-down on a branch above the stoat, their fangs coated with blood. They smiled as they watched the stoat go still. It wasn't as if they enjoyed killing (though they didn't have any reservations about it either), it was revenge, plain and simple. To make things better, killing that stoat was easy, almost unnaturally so. It was as easy as a bat knowing how to fly.
Midwyng began to laugh ironically, of course, that was a joke. It was true that the stoat was an easy kill, but she got one hit in. Curse their luck, it just so happened that they hit the brace attached to Midwyng's right wing and broke it. Although they were ashamed to admit it, they needed that brace to fly, their right wing was pretty much useless without it. That stupid stoat managed to break the brace, which meant their movement was severely limited.
So right now, Midwyng was just stuck, but strangely enough, they weren't all that sad about it. Staying true to their life's motto, "whatever happens happens", they just went with it. If fate wants me to be trapped on an island, What can I do? If fate says I can't fly, who am I to intervene?
They were about to take a nap when they saw somebeast heading in their direction. They watched the approaching figure, curious to know who it was.
Art Swiftpaw walked through the pouring rain, his wet fur uncomfortably clinging to him like a second skin. His baggy teal habit was the only thing keeping him warm. The forest around him was densely packed with oak trees that towered above him, their branches and leaves rustling wildly from the storm. Moss-covered rocks littered the forest floor, making walking around worse than it already was.
If he was able to, Art would be coming up with a plan to get himself off of the island, but the fact was that he was way too angry and scared to think rationally. As those who know Art would say, when he is sad, he gets really sad. When he is angry…
All of them, Borsen, that damn wildcat he works for, and everyone working for him, all of them will pay for this. Who gave them the right to do this? This is an evil that cannot be excused. I swear, if I get my paws on them, I'll make them suffer. I don't wanna be here, why did he have to bring me here? I don't wanna die! That lowlife otter, I oughta jam a knife in his head. Dear Martin, would it hurt if I got stabbed in the head? His thoughts were rapidly bouncing between fear and anger. They only stopped when he saw something lying on the forest floor, curious, he walked towards it to examine it closer. He saw the body of a stoat, its paws clamped around its neck. But more importantly, he saw the familiar armour and knew that whoever it was, they were a part of the crew that had captured him. If this was any other beast, he might've felt sorry, but as he stared down at it, he felt no amount of pity whatsoever. In fact, what he was feeling was more akin to satisfaction. Good riddance. To whoever killed them, good job. I'd sure like to meet whoever did this.
"Hey, squirrel!" A voice called out from above. Art cautiously looked up but grew confused when he couldn't see anything there. It was only when he noticed a pair of eyes staring back at him that he gave a short scream.
Midwyng began to chuckle, before breaking out into laughter at Art's reaction. "Wow, do I feel sorry for you, you got scared by the crippled bat, bat, bat?"
Once the initial shock of seeing the bat went away, Art scowled and called back up, "Of course I got scared, we're getting hunted in the middle of the night."
Midwyng smiled condescendingly, "Poor squirrel, can't defend yourself, self, self?"
"No." Art crossed his arms. "I don't have a weapon."
"Poor you, you, you." Midwyng then grinned, showing off their fangs, which were still covered in blood.
Art rolled their eyes and went to work going through the stoat's belongings, searching for its weapon. He quickly found a pike lying some feet away, but given that this weapon was made for an adult stoat, it was definitely too big for Art to use.
"Is the squirrel too weak to hold up a pointy metal stick, stick, stick?" Midwyng said mockingly.
Art glared up at Midwyng, "Why are you still talking to me? Don't you have better things to do?"
Midwyng's expression grew more serious but still kept that obnoxious grin, "Believe it or not, I can't really move, move, move. I can't fly, and our legs aren't made for us to stand up, up, up." Art looked down on the ground where he saw a strange contraption made of bits of wood and metal. He thought it looked familiar. He remembered he saw Midwyng wearing it back on the ship. Huh, so that's what it was for.
Art didn't like what he was about to suggest considering how much the bat annoyed him already. But regardless of his feelings about them, Midwyng was still somebeast in need, and importantly (to Art at least), Midwyng didn't seem to be that bad of a beast, personality notwithstanding. But there was also another reason, one that Art might not have realised was there, he simply didn't want to be alone on this island. Art sighed and looked back up at the bat, "If you need help moving around, I can help."
Midwyng smirked, "You, you, you? Can a squirrel like you even hold me up?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Art asked, already starting to regret offering to help.
"You're from that abbey, right, right, right? You're probably weaker than a baby."
Art threw up his arms in exasperation, "Fine, since you said I'm too weak, have fun being stuck here."
Midwyng stopped smiling. It was true, they were pretty much stuck without any help. Besides, it's not like things could get much worse. "Break my fall, fall, fall!" They suddenly yelled.
"Wha-?" Before Art could process what they said, Midwyng dropped down, landing on top of Art with a thud. "Get off of me," Art groaned. Midwyng snorted and used their one good wing to push themselves off, propping themselves against a tree. Now that Art was closer to Midwyng, he was able to get a better look at the bat. The two of them were around the same height. Midwyng looked pretty strong, but as they claimed, their legs didn't look strong enough to support their body on their own. Around their neck was a purple garment that looked to be a mix of a scarf and a poncho. But what got Art's attention the most was the powerful-looking fangs jutting from their mouth. Having never seen a bat before, Art was a slight bit unnerved.
Art sighed to himself. He reached down, grabbing Midwyng by the wing and pulling them up with a grunt. Midwyng propped themselves onto Art's shoulder, their left wing wrapped around the squirrel. "Son of a- you're bloody heavy," Art complained.
"That's a rude thing to say, say, say," Midwyng joked. "But you're stronger than I thought, you look like you'd-"
"Get blown away by the wind or something, I got it, shut up." Art snapped.
Midwyng smirked, "Grumpy today, are we, squirrel?"
Art rolled his eyes, grumbling, "I have a name, you know. It's Art."
"What a coincidence, I have a name too, too, too. It's Midwyng, now, onwards, onwards, onwards!" Midwyng mock-yelled, pointing their useless wing forwards.
Art experimentally took a step forward, trying to get used to moving around with this smug, annoying, narcissistic bat. "It's going to take forever to get anywhere," Art mumbled.
"If you're so worried about that, you don't have to help me, me, me," Midwyng suggested casually.
Art growled, "Nope, I'm not gonna leave you stuck here."
Midwyng smiled, more out of amusement than anything, "Oh, now you're nice, nice, nice."
"Seriously, do you want me to drop you? There's a lot of rocks on the ground I can drop your head on if you want," Art asked bluntly.
"Nope, nope, nope." Midwyng giggled, enjoying messing with Art.
Slowly but surely, the two of them continued moving through the rocky forest. It took some time to get used to moving around, but they slowly started to move faster. Not fast enough to get anywhere interesting though. So to pass the time, Midwyng just continued to annoy Art as much as they could, laughing every time Art threatened violence against them.
Art was nearing his breaking point, and he was actually starting to consider dropping Midwyng and walking away. "I swear, I'm in a really bad mood right now, I will stab you,"
"Oh really, really, really? I thought you abbeydwellers were supposed to be peaceful, peaceful, peaceful," Midwyng said mockingly. "I think stabbing somebeast is pretty violent, especially to somebeast you've just met, met, met." To Midwyng, it was even funnier since they genuinely couldn't tell if Art was being serious or not.
Art audibly growled, clenching his head with his free paw, "You're the one who ripped someone's throat out!"
Midwyng smirked, "Don't act like you care, you didn't seem the slightest bit concerned when you found that body, body, body." Art acted like Midwyng didn't bother him, but in the back of his mind, he was a bit curious why he didn't react. Even if the stoat deserved it and more, weren't dead bodies supposed to be more shocking?
"Okay, fine, but I'm still not the one that killed somebody," Art retorted.
"You'll probably have to soon, guards are coming for us, and they probably won't stop 'till they're dead, dead, dead," Midwyng pointed out.
"Good, what do I care? They're evil."
Midwyng chuckled, only annoying Art even more, "That's pretty harsh, say, wanna join me in trying to take down as many of those guards as possible before we die, die, die? You don't seem against killing them, them, them."
"We're not going to die," Art proclaimed sharply, ignoring the offer. "I'm not dying on this bloody island."
"Oh no, you probably are, we are all probably going to die here, here, here," Midwyng said bluntly. Art glowered at them, not saying anything as they continued, "They have so much more resources than we have, and there's more of them, them, them. Let's face it, as much as we try, we're probably not lasting more than a few days, days, days."
Art glared at Midwyng, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He was shocked at how little the bat seemed to care about the prospect of them all dying. No, I'm not gonna die here, I just can't! If I die here, everything I did before I got here would be for nothing, I don't want to… "You sure are calm for thinking you're gonna die soon," Art murmured.
Midwyng looked up at the sky, their right wing swaying ever so slightly, "I guess, so anyway, who do you think is going to die next, next, next?"
The question came so out of nowhere, that despite his anxiety, Art had no choice but to laugh. "What? How are you not freaking out about this?" A part of Art was asking because he wanted to know how to be less scared. Stop being scared, he told himself. If you're scared, others will think less of you… maybe it's a good idea to stick with Midwyng, at least they're not scared by any of this.
"I dunno," Midwyng answered honestly. Art was tempted to prod them for advice, but Midwyng went back to the question. "I think you're going to die next, squirrels are always-"
"Midwyng, shut up." The two beasts hobbled through the rain, going back to the already familiar routine of "Midwyng makes fun of Art while Art makes threats of violence against them". Art groaned to himself. This is gonna be a rough couple of days, isn't it?
