A/N: Another big author's note incoming.
AlexFalTalon: He wonders that too, blame the Lord of Hellgates I guess XD Bears aren't in canon as far as I know (not even sure if they were mentioned to be honest) But there was a beaver in the first Redwall.
Indeed, it will Remnants. Though perhaps not in the way you expect.
Keldor: Indeed, the bats are unlikely to show mercy. And yes, smelling foul has it's advantages (just ask skunks) and seeing as so many of my characters get eaten alive (I think I overuse that trope...) I figured it was time to subvert it.
Berserker88: Yeah the bath nightmare was one hell of a freak show (scarily easy to write) and no, Fret can never have a moment of peace XD
Sebias: I see you were putting the pieces together then... a worthy apprentice indeed...
Lord Demon: I'm undecided. They might.
Abrahem: Yeah this story was kind of lacking in detestable villainy (instant evil add toads!) And Bartock... we'll see where his coin falls. Ah yes, my bathing fetish has increased in strength! Muahahahaha! (For the record I don't have one) Funnily enough I imagined the same voices but in reverse (the leader is ribbity and scheming and Longtongue has the low pitched, smug croak)- voices are weird sometimes XD Yeah it was- but then that got shifted onto Bork and Longclaw when I created them.
The whole final season is rushed... I mean, I still enjoyed it but because they didn't build up to most of it a lot of it came out of nowhere really. Which is a shame because the author has spent decades building up to some stuff. Why the Night King goes out so quickly? D and D want to move on to Star Wars. But I do think he's not the Big Bad of the books (pretty sure they'll make a peace deal of some sort with the Others but we'll see). So it makes sense to have him out early... but at the same time it would've been better not to. My bigger qualms are honestly with some other choices of the season... But this is probably not the place to discuss them (I have begun a parody of Game of Thrones btw- A Song of Laughs and Farmers)
Yeah... Arya and Gendry... really... don't (it really didn't serve a purpose so yes, it was basically 'fanservice' a waste of time that could have been used to... say build up to the Danaerys thing...
Hmm... I can. Any ideas in particular for Fret and the toads?
When I was a wee dibbun, yes- but I don't really remember it.
Well you can voicechat so I assume it might be.
I honestly think that Cersei joining their army would have been a better plotline (Cersei with Sansa the Ice Queen is... something I wish I could have seen)
A cot is a baby bed- so 'good from the cot' means 'good since birth'. Somewhere in the middle/end most likely (it might even be the last line).
"We should never have left him." Momchillo grumbled as they walked. It seemed impossible for him to be bound by a single emotion. Guilt, for both mistreating and now abandoning Fret. Desperation, for they needed to find Fret before the bear did. Anger, for why had Fret wandered off in the first place? Regret, for not expecting him to...
"Oh quit yer worryin'! 'E couldn' 'ave got far. Probably thinks we abandoned 'im or somethin'."
Now guilt and regret were at the forefront. "We should have left a note!" It was a scarily plausible scenario, the one where Fret woke up alone and ended up thinking he'd been left behind. Somehow it fitted in perfectly with the concept of an inner, more sensitive Fret hidden behind the always grumpy one.
"Ye know, ye sound a lot like 'im now." The white furred stoat said with a lazy roll of his eyes.
"I do not!" Momchillo protested hotly.
"Well ye went from whinin' te snappin' in the space of 'alf a second." Snakeskin muttered.
Momchillo grimaced. "Well maybe I'm under a lot of- what did you say it was again?- pressure! Fret is lost, in a cave system populated by snakes and bears-"
"There's just one bear actually. At leas' that's what Snap tol' me."
"It's still a bear! Do you really think Fret stands a chance against something like that?"
"In a figh'? Absolu'ley no'. But bears are s'possed te be big, righ'? If Fret's got 'is wits about 'im, 'e'll dive down the smalles' tunnel 'e can find an' sit tight."
"Because Fret always has his wits about him when faced with giant beasts that can tear mountain downs, doesn't he?"
"'E may not be as witty as ye mouse. But we vermin ain' stupid... Mos' of the time... Besides... Bears an' be that big."
"How would you know? Have you ever see one?"
"'Ave ye?"
Momchillo paused. "No." He admitted. "Frankly, I don't even know what a bear looks like."
Snakeskin giggled. "Me neither. I'm thinkin' it's a gian' snake with bird wings what breathes fire."
Momchillo paused again, trying to conjure this image before his mind's eye. It took nearly as much imagining as picturing Sick-Eyes as a 'young and beautiful' corsair. Worst of all was that there always seemed to be a charred, black and white tail sticking out of the bear's mouth. The young mouse shivered. "I always thought it was just a big wolverine."
Snakeskin pulled a face. Then his features spread into a grin, his eyebrows waggling like a pair of rather frightening worms... "Wha' if a bear is what 'appens when a beaver an' an 'are mate?"
"I don't know what a beaver looks like either." The mouse explained- banishing the mental image of anything mating with anything. It was not a difficult task. He was too worried about Fret to think about mating (and didn't devote much time to the thought of mating anyways).
"Ye didn' 'ave any in yer Abbey?" The stoat asked, regarding beavers.
"None." Momchillo replied, only half paying attention. A dreadful thought had entered his mind and was spreading panic and chaos across his body. Supposing Fret had died, what was he supposed to do? If he went back to Redwall he would be faced with the ferret's mother- and adopted or not he had seen her molly-coddle him since dibbunhood. She would be devastated. And it would be his fault. Nobeast would condemn him of course (how had he been meant to know about the bear and the snake?), but he'd still live with the constant reminder that if he hadn't been an insensitive wretch none of this would have happened.
"Yes, well. 'Opefully we won' ever 'ave te see a livin' one."
Momchillo nodded in agreement. "And hopefully it will never see us either. Or Fret." Yet he could not shake away the horrible vision he'd had. Dream! Dream! It was not a vision, could not be a vision, would not be a vision! He was going to start being nice to Fret and the ferret wouldn't become bear breakfast! Or any breakfast! Not on his watch... although Fret was currently out of sight...
Snakeskin placed a paw on the mouse's shoulder. For half a second Momchillo was sure the stoat was going to give him reassurance of some kind. And he did. Just... the Snakeskin way.
"Ye know, I'm sure 'e'll be pretty touched by 'ow much yer worryin' about 'im."
"I-I- he- he... he wouldn't believe you..." Momchillo's whiskers drooped miserably. "He thinks I hate him."
The stoat raised an awkward eyebrow. "Do ye?"
"No! Of course not! It's just... complicated..."
Snakeskin rolled his eyes melodramatically, the mouse could not help but feel like it was supposed to cheer him up. "Fre'ie reaches new levels of stupidity all the time. But if ye 'ated 'im 'e'd suffer a lot more."
"Please don't call him stupid." Momchillo scanned the tunnels for any sign of black or white. "He might hear. And then he'll get hurt. An-and then..." He trailed off miserably.
Snakeskin chewed his lip awkwardly, watching as the rodent bravely bit back the wetness in his eyes. "Complica'ed relationships, eh?" He pulled the mouse into a one-armed hug for it looked very much like he needed it. "Well don' worry. We'll find yer ferret."
The frogs had been needlessly cruel, but what had he expected? His unconscious face had been thrust into an overly-warm tunnel, where the ice was melting around him like the slobber of a beast. It stunk, although so did he, and after the stench of amphibians anything was a welcome relief. His form was still weak, but not as much as it had been. Miraculously he hadn't broken anything falling down a waterfall. He could feel some of his former strength (or lack thereof... perhaps energy was a better word) returning to him.
He blinked his eyes open and gave his tail an experimental flick. He wriggled his toes and bent them back and forth as he yawned back to reality. Upon returning fully to consciousness, Fret realized three things. The first, was that the tunnel was sucking at him like a dibbun on a finger. The second, was that the tunnel was not a tunnel. The third, was that it was really somebeast's mouth.
Fret screamed, for what else could he do? Bizarrely the sucking stopped immediately, and the creature made a sound rather like a cough and a 'slurp'. Fret kicked and thrashed, and found himself flat on his back, his head covered in drool and all of a sudden dizzy.
"I'm sawy!" Squeaked the creature, sounding frightened.
Fret sat up and growled. It was too dark to tell exactly who or what he was talking to, but it was not a toad, bat, mouse or stoat. "I'll make you sorry!" He was not sure why he was so angry, but Fret scrambled to his feetpaws and bared his fangs. Although, now that he thought about it, threatening somebeast large enough to eat him was probably not a good idea...
Just as the first wave of panic set in, and much to Fret's surprise, the creature burst into loud sobbing.
"I'm sawy, I'm sawy, I'm sawy!"
"Well you had better be!" Fret snapped angrily. "What kind of sane beast does something like that!?"
"Sa-aw-"
"Sorry, sorry, sorry! That's all anybeast says! But does it make a difference? No! It doesn't! Because no matter how s-sorry you are nothing changes what you've done! Nothing changes and nobeast cares an-and-" He briefly wondered whether he was talking to the crying beast or to himself.
The sobbing dramatically increased in pace and volume. "I-it's j-I was hungry! And you had honey on your f-fur an-and-" None of the words after that were coherent, and Fret looked around sheepishly, hoping nobeast could or would ever see this.
Guilt flooded through the ferret faster than an overflowing river, and he felt his ears pin themselves against the top of his head. "Shhh, i-it's okay." The ferret soothed, reaching out into the darkness in search of something to pat in a comforting way- never mind that he lacked much experience when it came to comforting. "I-er- well it's just a bit of spit." And it was sticky and he hated it, but guilt did not let him say those words. "Besides, I've been eaten before. Just er- panicked. No harm done." He tried to force a smile, but the beast probably couldn't see him anyways, making any kind of facial expressions redundant. The large creature, and Fret was thinking baby badger at this point, did not seem able to hear him, and continued crying. The ferret had to fight down the resurging temptation to tell this beast to shut his trap and quiet down- Constance had never done that to him... well she had stuffed his face with muffins once or twice just to keep him quiet...
"Come on. Er-wipe away those... allergies..." He had not cried often in his younger years (at least, not where anybeast could see him), but if by chance he ever did Constance would never call them tears- she knew he hated that- they were allergies even if Fret wasn't allergic to anything. "You'll get snot all over your fur, that's hard to wash off you know. An-and really-" The beast was still crying! He had never cried for this long! What would Constance do? Well... Of course he knew exactly what the big mouse would do in his position, it was the doing of it that was hard...
Yet, after five whole minutes filled with nothing but the sound of crying (which reminded him of his own pathetic teariness), Fret had had enough and, knowing he would regret this, advanced towards the darkness, his arms spread wide,. "Who wants a h-hug?" He nearly gagged at the last word, and dropped his arms immediately, feeling more awkward in that one moment than ever before in his lifetime. Fret most certainly did not want a hug.
The crying creature did, and wrapped a pair of large arms around him, burying it's face (or rather, the tip of it's muzzle) into his chest. Awkwardly the ferret patted with one paw, the other pinned in the hug. "There, there. Now don't worry. Er- all is forgiven."
The creature sneezed and Fret clenched his teeth shut as the fur on his chest became covered in snot. This beast, he decided, was worse than Bork! Whatever it was, wiped away at it's tears with the ferret's rump, before gently setting him down. "Thank you." It sniffed. "I needed that."
Fret gritted his teeth all the harder. A paw made it's way to his chest. His Nuncle's gift, the yo-yo, was still there wrapped around his neck, but where Clogg's book had been there lay only slime. I didn't! He growled to himself, trying and failing to extract his paw from the substance.
There was an awkward silence for the entirety of two minutes, wherein Fret managed, with difficulty, to pull his paw free.
"I'm Butch by dee way."
Definitely a baby badger... perhaps it was a good thing neither of them could see the other. Knowing him to be a ferret might have been all the excuse 'Butch' needed to eat him...
"Does dee ferretch have a name?"
"It's Fret." He replied. "How'd you know anyways?" Perhaps badger vision was sharper... the Badgermum had always caught him at mischief- even if he hadn't really been involved with said mischief. Come to think of it though... This beast did not smell like Bella... In fact, he was pretty sure the creature stunk of... flowers? No, that was his nose being funny...
The dibbun, whatever it was, giggled, and Fret imagined a faint blush. "You... well... ferretches are stinky."
"Badgers smell bad too." Fret snapped. "And so does everybeast if they don't wash." Of course it always came back to how pungent he was...
It gave another tiny giggle. "Do you dink I'm a badger?" When his question was met with nothing but the sound of Fret's indignant breathing, the creature stopped giggling, stood up, waddled past Fret and pulled at a rope.
The ferret had to shield his eyes from the sudden light of a hundred fireflies contained in a glass jar (in hindsight it was more likely to be made of ice) larger than himself. His vision adjusted, he stared up at the baby beaver.
It was a large beast, but definitely younger than he was. Fret reached up to it's belly, though Butch still had much growing left to do. Perhaps thrice as wide, although it looked skinnier than it should have been. It's tail was what really caught the ferret's attention. A large, flat, scaly thing, not at all like what he'd imagined from a creature of the water.
"I'm Butch by dee way." The beaver repeated, sitting down next to him, and throwing Fret into the shadow of his form.
"You already said that." He grumbled in reply, prying his eyes away from the brown-furred beast. "And I already said I was Fret."
Awkwardly the bigger beast tweedled his thumbclaws as they went back into silence.
"So dee fwaggies got you too?"
"What do you think?" Fet spat, his footpaw kicking at the ice as he stretched it forwards. "Why else would I be here?"
Butch's face fell, and the young beaver turned away, miserable again. "I- I dought my parentches might.." It's lips quivered, but the ferret was quick to notice and quicker to prevent an eruption. If Momchillo could see him now...
"Shhh, shh, it's okay." A paw traveled as high up the beaver's arm as possible. He'd been aiming for the shoulder but that was not exactly feasible unless he stood up on tip-paw. And Fret was not about to do that for the sole sake of comforting. "I'm sure your parents are looking for you. And they'll find you, an-and..." You won't push them off a boat when they do... "Don't worry Butch. You'll get rescued." It was a good thing he was a talented liar, or else the beaver babe might not have believed him.
Butch sniffed loudly, and Fret's patting resumed at a quicker pace. The last thing he wanted was to be used as a pawkerchief... again. "You pwamise?"
The smallest smidgens of guilt made their presence known within the ferret. But he was vermin anyways, and all vermin lied. "I promise!" He did his best job at a cheerful grin and the beaver believed him. Of course, Fret knew that any reassurances he made would only lead to more tears- for Fret knew all too well that rescue never came on time. Clogg had left the Lands of Ice and Snow to go raiding 'South'. No location had been named in Fret's presence, and if it had been he likely hadn't been paying attention. Longclaw was the only beast of import left that Fret, or rather Whimper, had spoken to. And their interactions had been few and far between. If word got to the wolverine that Fufret, the son of Mad-Eye Marik had been captured by some toads... well... he did not doubt that the messenger would end up suffering a fate worse than death merely for something as petty as wasted time...
And then his life was forfeit. The toads would know it all to be a sham, and he'd be torn to pieces, or flayed alive or whatever- he did not doubt that they would find some cruel method of death for him. Fate never struggled to make him suffer...
"I need to escape." The ferret said aloud, beginning to pace. "We need to escape." He corrected, before Butch could start overthinking. "If I stay here I'll die..." Momchillo and Snakeskin were somewhere in the tunnels if they were alive. Would they bother looking for him? Most likely not, but Momchillo had been oddly clingy since the snake incident... He turned to face Butch. "You didn't see a stoat by any chance, did you? White fur, tall, weird eye, funny accent?"
Butch shook his head sadly.
"What about a mouse?" Fret went on. There was always the possibility the others had been captured too. "Brown-ish yellow fur? Shorter than me? Big ears?"
Butch shook his head again, his lips quivering- whether it was from fright or sadness Fret knew not- but the ferret truly did not want to know.
"Don't worry." He patted the beaver's webbed footpaw- because it was close to paw. "We'll be fine." Who was he kidding? They were doomed! "I just need to find a way to sneak out..." And then get caught again. Maybe it'd be bats again, or another tribe of toads... Or a snake...
Butch nodded his head vigorously, and wiped his eyes (thankfully he disn't use Fret for this this time). "You're wight. We'll be fine. We just need to escape."
There was a long pause wherein Fret continued pacing and Butch tweedled his claws.
"So... how do we do dat?"
Fret sighed, despair already nagging at him to give up. "I have no idea." But he was never the most obedient of beasts anyways.
"Maybe dee bats will know." Offered the baby beaver.
"Bats." Fret spat, his fur bristling in rage. "I'm here because of bats." And if he ever saw that bat again he'd claw it's stupid face off... Ferret smashed to bits, bits, bits... He's give it bits...
"Dee bats are nice. But dey don't talk a lot." Butch explained, as he waddled over to a wall of ice. Gently, he slid it open to reveal a dozen or so glum-faced and grumpy bats. They were of all shapes and sizes, but not one of them seemed to have slept well- and about half looked like they hadn't eaten well either.
"Hello Butch, Butch, Butch." One that had-been-fat murmured. "Hello vermin, vermin."
One look at this group of unhappy-looking beasts was all Fret needed to know that they would not be helpful at all...
Bartok had been relieved, overjoyed and nothing short of ecstatic as he told the chief and his clan of his lucky find. "I'm alive, alive, alive!" He had repeated, in joy and disbelief. He'd gotten his daily rations, he'd been about to tuck into them and then maybe have a nap to make up for the morning's stress...
And then the bear had roared and his heart had filled with dread.
It stood there at the foot of the waterfall, in all it's mighty glory, like a monster from a dream. Thick black fur covered it's hide- strands as long and as tough as rope. Thrice as big as a badger. Twice as wide. With claws like spears and teeth like swords. It walked in the most strangest and terrifying of fashions- stiffly as if on stilts. Yet despite the awkward way it moved, it moved swiftly and it's every footstep (as loud as a gong to Bartok's flattened ears) sent terror through the heart of every bat.
"Have you not received," Chief Snap began, standing tall and brave as all around him cowered. His two large daughters stood behind him, shaking from ear-tip to talon. "Your daily tribute, tribute, tribute?"
"We- I- have!" Boomed the bear, it's voice as loud as a crack of thunder. "But we- I- grow sick of bats and vermin! The beast you brought before me today was worth less than a rag doll! Nothing more than a morsel! I demanded NOURISHMENT!" Said the bear, stiffly marching closer to the waterfall. "You brought me barely a snack!"
Some bats whimpered, some began to plead for mercy, some hid themselves even further in the crowd.
"We- I- will tear your mountain down if I have to bat! We will take your young and kill them! We will slaughter anybeast that flies! You will find no mercy- not even that of a swift death! You will give us- me- the grubs I demand! Or you will all suffer! Is that understood?" The roaring, already loud and terrifying, seemed to rise in volume- until all the bats were nodding.
"Good! You have until sun down!"
"W-we need more time, time, time!" Snap pleaded. "I- I need, need, need..."
"Sun down!" The bear repeated. "And I will take a bat now. As payment for today's failure."
Bartok felt the eyes upon him, and tried his hardest to vanish. No, no, no... This could not... No, he had... the ferret... He panicked, he tried to flap away- but there was no escaping the desperation of his fellow bats. None could look him in the eye as they beat him to the ground and pinned his wings. "No! I found the, the, the- I can't no, no, no, no, no!"
The last thing he remembered was the bear's cold paw squeezing shut around him.
Footnote: You all probably understood Momchillo's behaviour this chapter but I still feel I should summarize something to do in part with his guilt. In the first scene he winds up thinking about how, if Fret is dead, it'd be his fault. He has slowly been coming to realize why Fret is as he is and indeed who Fret is- he's also learned thanks to the bat sisters how much of a jerk he is/was. Think of it like being really dirty, and then suddenly looking at your reflection and realizing 'I've been like this all along?' This happens pretty quickly for him, so he is perhaps exaggerating his part in all this to some extent. He had nothing to do with Fret ending up with the toads for example. But he still blames himself because he feels guilty about all the bullying. He's overcompensating.
And Butch! Another new character (too many... too many characters...) Think of him like a more stable Fret with Bork-ish proportions (irl beavers are badger sized, wolverines are roughly badger sized too sooo) The purpose of Butch? Well you'll see.
Ah, Bartok, not out of the frying pan yet. I'm not going to say anything now but you may be a little bit confused by everything that's going on now so I'll just say don't worry, everything will make sense in the next chapter!