A/N: AlexFalTalon, we will be seeing plenty more of Marik going forwards, no need to worry about that ;)

Abrahem, Yeah, I just thought it would be a nice twist if they got to the abbey… and then had to wait just a little longer to actually get into the abbey. Funnily enough if not for the Log-a-log they'd have done quite a bit more waiting.

Yes, well if you think that's tense just wait until everything about what happened becomes clear- technically speaking Threeclaw is responsible more or less entirely for the missing children (butterfly effect yes, but he started it) and he's now surrounded by their parents. He's not quite in the clear yet.

To be fair Fret didn't learn much restraint either- what they have that he doesn't is a sense of identity (they are vermin and proud of it, whereas Fret was in denial of it, and is now horrified by it) which is somewhat ironic considering they didn't have names until recently XD

Ahem, I don't want to get your hopes up too much- but I feel like I should say this now (and probably should have said it earlier) we will see frogs- but Sharpfur's not going to be the one dealing with them. Ultimately I went with Greyclaw to continue the somewhat light-hearted feel of the last chapters (because, Threeclaw's predicament aside, the previous chapter wasn't exactly edge of the seat suspense) no worries though, we shall return to Sharpfur shortly.

(For the record I was talking about these characters, but your opinions on the canon ones are nice too :)

Yes, Constance has felt slightly neglected as of late- gonna have to rectify that the next time we're in Redwall.

Also, if I figure out how to remove bank details (it's nothing personal but I don't really know who you are so won't trust you with the four dollars on my account XD) I could offer to let you use my Kobo books account (issan app). I have some of the Redwall (e)books on it (and I think the original but I'll have to confirm that). Just an offer, but first, to secure my four dollars.

Hmm, yes, we shall have to work on that. (Unfortunately podfics have the same bad rep as fanfics and furries…)

Thank you for your opinions (more variety than I expected to be honest- but that's a good thing)

I kind of moved away from songs, but I guess… if it fits the scene… maybe. Honestly your reviews help brainstorming XD

(And now I remember! Yeah, that one poem was rather good. Keyla is also working on her own (I think it's a her… but you never know on the internet…) story so you may want to keep an eye out for that.

Yeah, Sharpfur and the Recorder… to be honest when this is all done I think I'll end up *cough*copying Berserker88 as I always do*cough* writing a drabble collection for all these characters. Because honestly at this point almost every chapter can be classified as a drabble (not a bad thing but this story is slow…)

Heroic sacrifices… hmm… obviously no confirmations and all that- but that would be hard to do seeing as I am rather attached to them...

I didn't change that- don't feel dumb everyone misses a detail or two- I just felt like it was necessary to show that Constance giving up on Fret never happened while she was in a normal state of mind. It would somehow feel wrong that she did all she did for him only to turn her back on him the second she hears something bad happened. She had a lot to process at the time between Fret and missing children and Skip.

*Gasps* I didn't make them evil enough? Well… MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA... Just wait till you see exactly why Snakeskin had a falling out with them...

Sebias, once again, if not for the Log-a-log Matiya and company would have done quite a bit more waiting. Once more- Threeclaw isn't in the clear yet (and yes, he had very little fun in Bella's paws)- although I am glad the last chapter gave some sort of satisfaction and took the plot somewhere (honestly Matiya and Threeclaw have done almost nothing of interest since Book I) Glad you like Abbot Martin- he's fun to write. (And the pie-chucking was very much a necessity- had to be done by somebeast)

Lord demon, Nice to see you're still alive- thought you might've been dragged back into the underworld XD

Firestar the Warrior, It'll probably be a while before you see this- but I'm glad you're liking the story so far.

Remnants of Fantasy, Thanks, your review was rather flattering (even though it's debatable- I mean the Redwall books were a bit more kid-friendly but I'm glad you think so)

Yes well characters are what I do best. And don't worry- it most certainly will not end like Outcast (it'll probably be less vague and more satisfying)

And I think you're right about Clogg- while there is some room for the 'he's using him' card- I think ultimately his reaction to Fret's disappearance says it best.

I was hesitant about the Greyclaw twist mostly because I've never done a big twist (complete with foreshadowing and whatnot) before- plus the fact that wouldn't it mean I was technically lying every time I wrote 'the rat'. I mean, it was planned from the beginning and I built up to it- but I wasn't sure if I'd actually do it. That said I am very glad I did do it (also very glad that it surprised you! Ha! I caught one person by surprise! That's like a record, isn't it? Isn't it!?)

Your last paragraph is *so* relatable- I remember skipping through most of Mattimeo's Redwall chapters and going right into anything with Slagar- same goes for most books. (And I'm glad nothing here has dulled you! Yet anyways...)

D-dying!? I must write! I must!

Well here ye go- hope yer not dead yet.

In times of crisis, Greyclaw had found no greater comfort than food. Oh actual comforting was good too, but where was he supposed to get it from? Jack was busy, Tibbers didn't understand, Victoria and Angus and Andrew and the Skipper were… well… dangerous. He'd seen the way they spoke of vermin- the way the twins bragged about killing 'no good scum', the way Victoria stabbed the rat-faced dummies…

He was a mouse, apparently, he ought to have no cause for fear. He was amongst other woodlanders… but hadn't he always been a rat?

"Yer a mouse." Heartrip teased, a pointed grin plastered to her muzzle.

Greyclaw shook his head timidly.

"He ain't a mouse stupid!" Sharpfur snapped. This had been a long time ago, when Greyclaw had been little and Sharpfur littler and Heartrip, Blizzard and Redtail your typical older siblings.

"Ma said ye had to let us play with you." The littlest weasel continued, his wrists on his hips. "So ye have to let us play or ma'll have yer ears." Greyclaw was still not sure why Sharpfur always wanted to play with his siblings. He would much prefer staying with Sickletail and Silvertongue, they usually kept him occupied one way or another and there was less danger involved.

"I ain't playing with a mouse and a runt."

"I ain't a runt!" Sharpfur snapped, the furs along his back rising up in rage. "Just wait! One day I'll be bigger than ye!" As an afterthought the weasel added. "And Grey ain't a mouse or ma wouldn't have picked him up, would she?"

Heartrip opened her mouth to continue teasing- but was interrupted.

"We already told ye." Blizzard snapped, growing impatient. "We ain't babysittin' ye. Go and bother Threeclaw."

Greyclaw liked Threeclaw, even though the stoat scared him. He was usually quite nice and if he was in a good mood would even take them swimming. Mostly to torment Sharpfur, who was scared of water, but Greyclaw loved swimming. Perhaps it was better if they went to see Threeclaw.

"It ain't babysittin' coz we ain't babies. Now let us play or I'll tell Ma you lot bit an otter."

"H-how do ye know that?" Redtail asked. Refusing to look after their naggy little brothers was one thing- not an act of defiance so much as a declaration of independence. But a fight with otters? That would land them in a whole load of trouble...

"I heard ye bragging about nickin' his rump. And I know that Gulash didn't give ye that black eye coz I was with Gulash." Sharpfur smirked, having outsmarted his siblings through the power of hearing. "So. What are we playing?"

Blizzard grumbled and frowned, but at last relented. "We were gonna go snake-huntin' at the quarry. But now we have to play hide and seek or something because we have to look after the widdle babies. Want me te hold yer widdle paws or something?"

"Why're ye looking at me when ye say widdle, eh?" Growled Sharpfur, his tiny paws clenched into fists. "Coz I ain't little and ye know it!"

"We can still go snake-huntin'." Heartrip declared. Scuttling behind her little brothers she placed a pair of paws on Greyclaw's shoulders. "We just found ourselves the perfect bait."

"B-bait?" Greyclaw gulped.

Redtail smirked, realising what his sister was up to. "Oh yes bait. One whiff of you Grey and every snake in Mossflower'll come slithering for a bite. Maybe even two or three."

"It won't hurt much." Blizzard explained, pinching the rat's stomach. "Just a little pinch here and there." To underline his point he pinched the rat's tail-tip. It stung and Greyclaw had to bite back a whimper.

"And then when they swallow ye we catch 'em!"

"S-swallow?"

"Whole an' kickin'!"

"Don't worry though, we'll let ye out."

"Maybe in a few hours."

"Days more like."

"Maybe never." Said Blizzard with a carefree shrug. "One less mouth to feed ye know. Maybe Sharpfur'd be bigger if ye didn't scoff all his food."

"The snake'd be happy too. All that extra paddin'."

"It's decided." Declared Heartrip. "We're goin' snake-huntin'!"

Greyclaw turned and fled as fast as his chubby little legs could carry him. The older weasels roared with laughter behind him but he did not stop.

Sharpfur growled. He never played without Greyclaw and now stomped away determinedly, throwing a half-hearted kick at Redtail as he passed.

"Ye think we took it too far?" Blizzard asked when they were out of earshot of the two.

"Nah." Said Heartrip. "But we'd better get goin' before they call ma."

Greyclaw sniffled from the safety of his hiding place- a small willow tree next to the river. It's thick, leafy folds hid him from view and stiffled the sounds of his crying. It was a joke of course- his siblings would never feed him to a snake. But it had still hurt and he was soft. So sniffle he did.

Sharpfur found him a few seconds later- more than used to following Greyclaw to his 'hide-out' by now. "It was a joke Grey." The weasel complained. He had never been comfortable with his rat brother's sensitivity. "Anyhow ye know I wouldn't let the snakes bite ye."

Greyclaw sniffled again and Sharpfur awkwardly rubbed at his nose.

"Ye want us te go swimmin' or?"

A simple question, but a monumental gesture from Sharpfur.

But Greyclaw shook his head and wiped his eyes and nose. He would not force Sharpfur into doing something he would not like. The weasel hated water.

Now that he was no longer in the presence of a crying beast, Sharpfur grinned. "Those idjits think they've outsmarted us. But wait till Ma hears about the otter incident! Oh boy! She'll have their ears in a twist afore ye an' I can start laughing!"

But Greyclaw hadn't laughed- although Sharpfur did more than enough laughing for the both of them, when Sickletail had confronted their siblings with the forbidden knowledge. Needless to say, their ears had been twisted.

He wasn't laughing now either, his mouth stuffed with cake, his eyes with tears. He was so confused! And scared! Was he a rat or a mouse? Did it matter? Were his family dead? Where were they if not? Would they care if he was a mouse? And if he was a mouse would he still be Greyclaw or would he become Berty for real? But Berty sounded wrong! Perhaps he could change his name-

"Comfort eatin' again?" Tibbers shook his head. "At the rate you're going you'll end up wider than a badger." That was when the shrew noticed the red around his eyes. "Nightmare?" He asked, helping Grey Berty Banana Bartholomew Claw to his feet (Hellgates that name was too long! It couldn't be real…)

Greyclaw nodded meekly. "I- they- the tonic doesn't help!"

Tibbers now began to lead him away from the desicrated kitchen- desperate to leave before the cook caught them. "Have you been taking it?"

"Well… no…" Greyclaw rubbed the back of his neck. He had wanted to, of course. But every time he'd picked up the phial (in itself a great labour for it was badger-sized) he could hear Sick-Eyes rattling on about how she'd seen badgers tear beasts in two. Perhaps it was because he'd been easy to scare- but the old pine marten had especially loved to terify him. Deathglare too, though he hadn't done it on purpose. It was just the way he always spoke quietly that made Grey nervous. And his eyes. His eyes were scary too.

Yet, frightening though they were, he'd loved them. They'd been part of the same crew at least...

"I think you should give it a try." The little shrew encouraged. "I mean, what's the worst that can happen."

"Supposing I choke on it. Or I don't like the taste."

"And is that better or worse than bad dreams? Personally I'd put on my brave face and swallow a cup. I mean… it can't be the worst-tasting medicine in the world, eh?"

"B-b-but I don't have a brave face." He had never been 'brave'. Everybeast had always said that bravery was stupid. Cunning, cunning was important. But he'd never been cunning! You had to be clever to be cunning and he wasn't clever either. Sharpfur had been the clever one.

"Well, you don't need one. Look. You'll take the tonic tonight and- and I'll take it with you. If it's bad it's bad. But it's worth a try, isn't it?"

Tibbers was also clever. Small, still careful to be nowhere near him on the dinner table, and a shrew. Yet if not for him and Jack, Grey would be dead and Berty would never exist.

That had been a long while ago now. Grey had taken the tonic and the nightmares had faded away. Now, in the ridiculously hot heat of early spring (they were in a desert after all), Berty was in a dessert. Again. Well, he was supposed to be eating it- but manners had never been an important part of life in the Honest Bunch- nor was it particularly important amongst the Long Patrol. Sure a few beasts stared, but by now everybeast was used to him.

"Berty! Berty! Berty!" Angus and Andrew cheered, their paws banging on the table, their tails slapping the floor. The twins had developed a kind of obsession with watching the mouserat (he was still undecided) eat. Perhaps it was the unorthodox method of diving in, or the speed with which he could demolish (or rather, devour) a badger-sized serving of strawberry pie that fascinated them. That or they just wanted to know how fat he could get.

Perhaps it was because of Victoria's 'training regime' (a form of torture he'd never encountered before), or the hot sun that melted flab in the form of near-constant sweat, but he had gained next to no weight. He had gained no muscles either, but Victoria- or as he liked to call her, Vicky, didn't like hearing that so he never said that.

At last he finished the pie, and sat down with a tremendous belch that would have made any mild-mannered creature faint clean away.

"And at long last,"

"The heroic mouse,"

"Swallowed the crumb,"

"His belly was already numb?"

The two shook their head. Music was not their strong suite either- and apart from swimming, Greyclaw did not think they had a strong suite.

"Yes well, swallowing crumbs isn't going to make anybeast any more heroic." To Victoria there was always a battle going on. Sometimes two even. Rigid determination. Strict morals and mannerisms. "Songs are written to remember important figures and battles. Not the swallowing of pies."

Jack opened his mouth to try and list all the songs he knew that had nothing to do with either figures or battles, but Victoria shut him down.

"Close your mouth Jack before the lettuce falls out. You've already dropped your brain as is."

Indigantly the hare swallowed. "I'll have you know tha-"

"So, Berty, I was thinking we could start training you for naval combat." The mouse continued speaking, leaving Jack-is-Lucky to fume over his meal. He'd just been about to unleash the Ballad of Salad on her…

"Navel combat?" The rat repeated, staring at his belly. "I don't think they're built for fighting really. I suppose I could belly flop somebeast. Or sit on them."

"I'm not talking about your stomach."

Greyclaw cocked his head to the side, his mouth slightly agape. "Then what were you talking about?"

"Naval means water mate." Andrew provided.

"No it doesn't!" Scolded his twin. "It means to do with water."

"Well there won't be any of that belly-flopping tosh anyways, wot." Said the Junior Corporal, leaping into the conversation with the big long words of any hare- he also leapt onto the table to get their attention, using his big, long legs. "I've arranged an expedition!" There were several layers of excitement in his voice. It was rather like being confronted with a dibbun on a sugar-rush. From the depths of his perfectly crease-less uniform, he withdrew a map.

A chubby finger traced a line along a blue line that Grey knew was a river. A little squiggle gave them it's name but Berty couldn't read- the Honest Bunch had never taught him and the others didn't know of this inability of his. "We are going to be patrolling this here riverbank. It's unlikely we bump into any troubles or that sort of thing- but isn't it exciting? A really spliffing opportunity to work on our marching if I say so myself, wot wot. Not to mention that if something does arise it'll be our duty to deal with it!"

"Something?" Victoria raised an eyebrow.

"Oh you know, vermin bands and cannibals- pirates, that sort of thing. I mean, we probably won't run into anything serious, wot. But still! The Badgerlord himself gave me permission! He trusts me!"

"Calm down before you wet yourself- that's a nice pie you're standing over." Angus advised.

The rotund corporal sat down on the bench (accidentally squashing Tibbers) only slightly flustered by the comment.

"Of course, if you don't want to come you don't have to. But I thought it would be a great experience. Upholding law and order and all the rest!"

"It's just a patrol." Jack-is-Lucky rolled his eyes. "You'd think we were going to save Mossflower or something."

"We might be! You never know what might happen! Lord Umber even said so himself!"

"Eh we'll go." Angus and Andrew spoke in unison, their nonchalant shrugs identical to the very last whisker.

"Well I probably have to go anyways since this is part of training and all, wot." Jack nodded. "But it's been a while since I've left this place."

"It's settled then! I'll go let the other squadrons know!" This really meant 'I'll go brag to everybeast in sight' but that was beside the point. Tibbers was glad to see him leave to say the least.

"I fancy having a swim in water that isn't salty for a change." Angus announced, stretching his paws wide.

"No more stinging eyes for us mate!"

"I don't think I'll go." Greyclaw said quietly, hoping that nobeast would hear. Unfortunately he had underestimated their hearing.

"Why not Gr- Berty? Patrol duty's a lot of fun. Think of it like a game of 'eye-spy' and you'll never be bored again."

Sharpfur had always hated that game. He'd only played it in times of extreme boredom and even then only to annoy anybeast in earshot.

"Well - er, I dunno. I just feel a little tired." He hastily gave what was obviously a fake-yawn. "Didn't get much sleep."

"You clever rat!" Angus exclaimed, slamming his paw upon the table. Greyclaw momentarily seized up- terrified that the truth he was now uncertain of had been revealed- but it was a false alarm. "You just want a clean shot at the kitchens!"

Gales of laughter followed his words (not to mention a glare from the cook that could have melted right through thick rock) and Greyclaw went pink around the ears, but could think of no reply. There was a tugging at his tail, and Greyclaw found Victoria motioning for him to sit besides her. He did as he was bid- ignoring the wolf-whistles Angus and Andrew sent his way. The twins were good at teasing- almost as good as his older brothers- and he made the perfect target.

The mousemaid ignored them, knowing full well that they only did that to bug her. Berty was sweet in his silliness, and so naive it wouldn't have surprised her if he walked out a window. Did she care about him? Yes, but only because he couldn't take care of himself.

Greyclaw did his best to tune them out- the pair always made him uncomfortable somehow. Anyhow it wasn't like there was any merit to it. Vicky was nice, but she frightened him- and had he still lived with the Honest Bunch, probably would have slain him. But she was nice to Berty and he was probably a mouse anyway, so he liked her.

"I know everything seems scary when you've been away from it awhile." She said, as the otters moved on to annoying Tibbers; 'The good Corporal didn't sit on you, did he?' "But you can't stay hidden in here forever Berty. When I first got here I didn't want to leave either. I thought that if I set a footpaw outside something horrible would happen. But nothing bad ever happened. Look, I'm sure what the vermin did to you was horrible- but the world is beautiful and you can't let beasts like that dictate how you live your life. Just because there are monsters outside these walls doesn't mean you shouldn't face them. When life spits in your face, spit back and say 'do your worst' and you'll never be scared again."

"Erm, I'm not really scared." He wasn't scared of having to deal with pirates or the like. He'd been a sort of pirate after all, which said a lot about how broad the single word was. In truth he didn't want to go because, even if he was a mouse, it would somehow plague him with guilt to be part of a Long Patrol patrol- he'd been raised to run from them and hide from them and stay clear of them. Not be them!

Victoria patted his shoulder. "Berty, a bat could tell you were terrified and they're half-blind. But you have nothing to be scared of. It's unlikely we bump into anything- still too early for any wrongdoers to come out of their hideouts- but even if we do what's the worst that can happen? You won't find a horde a day's march from Salamandastron, the other patrols would already have spotted them. And I think I can handle one or two vermin."

Well… that depended on the vermin. If he was a rat, than yes, she could very easily 'handle' him. But Sharpfur was debatable and there was no way she could beat Threeclaw or Gulash or Deathglare or Sharpfur's Ma. Nevertheless he did not want to hurt her feelings, for Vicky took great pride in being an excellent combatant, and nodded.

"So you'll come?" She asked, turning back to her salad.

"Go on Berty."

"She's inviting you."

"Can't refuse a sweet lass like her, can you?"

Greyclaw shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the sight of Angus winking at the pair.

"Well, I suppose so. I guess I'll go."

"Hooray! Alright! I'll go get ready now. I expect the Corporal will want us to leave any minute." With that Jack-is-Lucky took his leave, only pausing once to snatch a pair of toasts on his way out.

"Well I can't go." Said Tibbers flatly. "Last time I went on any kind of expedition I got stabbed in the shoulder. I'll just be on the walltops or something. You never know when somebeast'll come knocking." He sighed and before another word could be said, turned to leave, his tiny tail dragging across the ground behind him.

"What's up with him?" Asked Andrew.

"Probably the shoulder wound."

"Aye, that'll be it."

"Or the Corporal sitting on him."

"Yeah that happens quite often."

"It's not always the Corporal though, is it?"

"Maybe I should stay with Tibbers." Greyclaw suggested. His family were probably dead- but they'd be watching him from Hellgates and... The shame! Joining the Long Patrol. He'd never be able to live that down in the afterlife... "He might get lonely."

"We'll kidnap a shrew for him." Angus suggested.

"A nice pretty shrewmaid to keep him company."

"Then we'll have two pair of lovebirds standing around."

Victoria glared at the two- but Greyclaw had never been a master of comprehension. "Who're the other two?"