Chapter 16:

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Lt Vixen watched on, eyes narrowing as she saw Rattigan steer the drone onwards, scanning the path as he rose up again. "You don't seem confident in your snake plan," she snarked.

"Normally I'd be confident enough to leave them to it," he barked. "And get on with far more important things. Only in this case, there is something I need to retrieve, no thanks to my incompetent ally!"

She tutted, looking over at the hare. "Are you really going to take that? From him?"

He remained silent, all as the vixen wormed her cable-tied paws around her back and into her pockets. She didn't have a trusty pistol attached to her hip like a certain someone, she'd economised for what she thought would be a simple cave exploration.

But…

Her paws grasped around something long, narrow and cylindrical, a long piece of string at the end. A cold chill running up her spine and down to her tail, which she had to force to remain in position. Lever the cord out of her pocket, laying it down so it was easy to access.

And then down, worming, squirming to try and reach a front pocket. A lighter. The tight confines of the rear cabin and the cutting plastic into her wrists holding her back. Slowly, carefully, waiting for the drone to rock so she could yank herself around with some level of deniability. She felt the popping of a leg muscle and a sudden tearing stitch up one calf, keeping it quiet all the time.

Her paw reached down, trying to get the lighter.

Nothing.

It wasn't going to happen.

"Got a smoke?" she asked.

Rattigan remained silent, focussed at the controls, but the hare looked back. "I didn't know you partook."

"Six months in school, before my father sat me down and got me off it. I can manage without, but seeing my situation now… -Would you honour an old friend's last wish?"

For a moment his features softened, the battle scarred hare shrugging. "I would if I could."

A silence fell across the two before she laughed. His ears pulled upward a little. "-The death seeker, the one who wishes to bring the devil back only to try and smite him. And still, you shrug off tobacco with a spit and a harumph… -You are that mammal, still, deep inside of you. Bright eyes…"

"No," he hissed. "One eye, dark as night."

"Maybe edgier," she teased.

He turned away, looking over at the controls and focussing. Rattigan was still looking down, seemingly glued to his screens but with a paw resting on a small recoilless rodent pistol. It slowly rose up, going back to the controls. "Good," the rodent muttered. "If you'd have fallen for that sentimental clap trap and gone over to the other side, I'd have probably blown my own brains out after from the revolting level of pathetic emotional mush I'd just witnessed."

"There is still time for that yet, rat," Woundwort whispered, Rattigan shaking, the drone jolting around.

"Don't…"

"I have plans for her. To bring her to my side. A baptism of cinder and lead."

"...Kinky," the rat muttered. "Now, if you're done being a busy little simp, we're back to where they were before. Time for some fun."

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"They're coming back," Jack hissed, the mammals turning to him before looking down the path, eyes open and looking even as they pulled themselves into the undergrowth.

Skye, tucked in tight, peered into her controls, Murray holding a small tarp over her head so she could see the display screen. "I see it."

"Rise up," Doug muttered, Skye offering no response.

Instead they all cowered in as the heavy beating of Rattigan's device got louder and louder. Skye warned them it was close to the ground, skimming just above the leaves, ready to see and shoot. All as the others tried their best to hide themselves, away from the path as the wind began to blow, leaves carried out by the downdraft.

Rotors beating it cruised above them, a black jagged mass with guns and cameras spooling from underneath, scanning for targets.

Looking over, seeing Carmelita and Tigress in position, Murray nudged the small fox next to him. "Almost there," she hissed, Murray looking up and giving a thumbs up.

With a nod tigress turned and threw, the mammals looking on as a rock jumped through the undergrowth and rattled out onto the path. The drone halted, swinging back as it slowly turning itself around, the gun turrets whipping themselves around and screaming. The rolling rock was suddenly peppered with white flecks, hot bullets raining down and scratching themselves against it.

In less than a second it was over, the drone dropping and gun lifting up, starting to scan into the forest to scythe through. A loud rustle came from the other end, the gun rising up and blasting at a white-ish figure in the undergrowth. There was a crack as a rod of bamboo snapped, the clump of wool and spare clothes at its end falling away as Doug jumped back behind cover, the guns sweeping after him. "HURRY!" Came an oddly animated yell from the ovine, Murray looking up at their drone, currently coming in on top, cut lengths of climbing rope hanging from it, swinging in the breeze. Rattigan's drone began pushing forward, strafing across to get another shot, Murray turning down only to see Skye racing out, controls still in paw. "WAIT!"

It didn't matter, she was suddenly out of cover, straight behind Rattigan's machine as she lowered her drone by eye, trying to guide it in, the swinging ropes starting to bounce off the boxy shielding as they dropped in and…

The gun turret began swinging around, lining straight up for the swift fox, no cover, no respite, the vixen just rooted in place as she operated the drone, dropping it down and…

A crunch rang out followed by the screaming of gunfire, Skye's eyes wide as Jack leapt in and tackled her out of the way, bullets whistling up above where she'd been and out into the air. The pair rolled, not even able to see the stealth drone pitching further and further back, their own small one falling out of the air and dangling from three of the ropes, caught tight by the rear rotor blades and then smashed against a treetrunk.

Motors whined as the enemy aircraft did its best to try and right itself, barely able to keep itself from dashing into the canopy.

Jack and Skye just watched at it for a moment or two, struggling limply, all paws at its controls… -And then the gun twitched again, the pair bolting for the undergrowth as a wild hail of bullets was cast in their direction, bucked and swung by the craft's panicked attempts to get itself under control.

Carmelita rolled out to the side, firing a trio of shock pistol shots into its underside, sparks raining down.

"Hit the rear rotors, don't let it balance," Doug yelled, crashing out of the undergrowth and lining up a shot, bullets sparking into a free rotor behind two caught ones. All as Tigress raced out on all fours, jumping into a combat roll as she ripped a piece of bamboo free from the ground. Grinding to a halt, she threw it straight up, then leapt, backflipping and giving it a final kick straight into another free rotor.

It was unclear if Doug's attempts did something, but Tigress' did, the bamboo pole going into the fan ducting and staying there, a loud crunch coming out as the struggling drone tilted back and crashed into the overstory of a large tree. With a loud whine it halted, tilting forward and resting on a large branch, the engines silent.

The victors cheers were cut off as, with a clunk, two of the ropes and the bamboo pole came loose, dropping down below.

"Keep it UP!" Murray yelled, tossing a heavy stone at the vehicle, a dull thud echoing out. Its gun turret, lifting up, rotated around to the hippo. "Awww nuts!" He raced to the side, a petty blast of gunfire trying to follow him only to halt, a large branch blocking its path.

"Regroup, regroup!" Carmelita ordered, waving them to a blind spot. Shock pistol ready, she kept it focused on the stranded vessel.

Skye, panting, looked on, vaguely registering a fist up and ready for a bump. A geyser of vomit still trying to make its way up her throat, she just returned it, Doug, the areas of wool he'd cut off visible, answering back. "You did good."

She looked up at him, panting. "So did you." She then turned to Jack. "We… We did it."

He glanced back, laughing. "You… You did it." He then managed a smug smile. "I just saved your life after…"

"I'm pretty sure they were going over anyway," she managed to laugh out, only for a yell from Carmelita to bring them back to attention.

"We're not done yet!" she yelled, pointing up. "Tigress, take anyone next to you up there and start blocking the rotors, he could free himself immediately." The big cat nodded, sweeping up Judy, Jack and Nick even as Carmelita was still ordering Murray to start tossing rocks and the others to keep guard for any attempted escapes. The tiger leapt up a nearby trunk, claws digging into the bark before she launched herself onto a large branch, racing along it and jumping to one on the drone's tree. It was still doing its best to free itself, wiggling its rotors, freeing the final rope before starting to rev up once more. Slowly, surely, the tree cracking and shaking beneath it, it began flying under its own power…

Tigress jumped on and used her weight to slam it back down and in, the smaller mammals jumping on unsteadily and going for the rotors. Combat knives, pieces of branches, some of the rope they'd recovered. Fan blades jammed shut against their supports, the vessel falling back in, crunching and snapping against the now mutilated tree.

A piece of rope came loose, dropping out only to be replaced with a new one threaded through, Tigress pulling it back as far as she could and starting to tie it to itself behind the trunk.

"TURRET!" Came a yell from Murray, Tigress looking down to see the guns swivelling to blast her behind the trunk, too narrow to shield her. She kicked out, half cartwheeling before gripping the trunk with her legs, the world inverted as bullets ripped out below her, shredding the bark of the tree on either side but unable to hit through the middle or rise up to meet her. Doing her best to hold the rope up and pull it up, she began weaving the rope together, tighter and tighter, knot after knot, all as more bangs and crunches rang out. More sets of sticks being jammed into the rotors, holding them closed, more rocks being thrown up by Murray, suddenly being caught by Tigress and slammed atop the shackled aircraft to weigh it down and keep it in place.

It struggled, the engines finally coming to a stop, those around it panting out, too tired to cheer. Still wary of the gun turret, still keeping a close eye on the machine, they fanned out, eyes close, waiting.

"Padriach Rattigan. The one named General Woundwort." Carmelita said. "You are caught. Come up with your paws up and our hostage safe."

There was silence, followed by a dull bang from inside.

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"What was that!?"

Lt Vixen felt the drone jerk about to the side, Rattingan banking hard and narrowing his gaze down to some area of movement. Even as he did so he flipped the small protector off the trigger and began to let loose, peppering whatever it was he'd spotted and not stopping there. Methodically he began clearing the area around with his fire, cutting through, teeth grit. "-I SEE YOU SHEEPY!" Pressing harder the gun rattle roared, the rat jumping up and cheering. "ONE DOWN! I…"

Whatever momentary flicker of slight sadness the fox felt was wiped away as he yelled out in frustration. "OH NO YOU DON'T!" He carried on firing, turning around and following. "THAT WAS CLEVER I'LL GIVE YOU THAT!"

Leaning against the wall as they tilted and and drifted to the side, the fox's heart beating hard, she wrinkled her muzzle and yelled out. "That's all you got Ratty!?"

A furious muffled grunt came from Rattigan only for him to remain focussed, glancing around at the screens, pausing as he saw something in the small rear camera view and spun the turret around. The fox in the back felt her heart freeze as she saw a tan figure up ahead, only for her whole world to be thrown to the side as she was thrown forward. Rattigan screamed, warning signals blared, he pushed back on his controls as he tried to stay the forward tilt, the vehicle whining and then rattling as he made time to fire blindly, hoping to hit something.

A snap and sparks rained around them, some of the screens going blank, fuses and breakers popping. Once, twice, three times, his paws left the controls in a flinch and then the rattling of tree branches and leaves rang out, the vehicle settling down as something heavy began slamming on them. Again and again. Furiously trying his best, Rattigan began flipping breaker switches, turning screens off and on again, rubbing his brow as he started to try and individually control some of the rotors, turning them back, forth, some of the 'Rotor Obstructed' warnings going away, only for new ones to appear.

Along with the rustling of leaves, shaking of their machine, muffled but familiar calls and the sounds of things being done outside.

A few desperate attempts to shoot at the mammals outside, but Rattigan sighed, collapsing into his seat. For a moment or two he rubbed his face, before turning to her, a hate filled glare in his eyes.

They bored into her as he slipped off his seat.

"Don't think I didn't forget what you called me back there." he hissed, venom dripping from his mouth as the vixen thought she heard a call for surrender from her interpol counterpart from outside.

If she thought she heard it, she was pretty sure Rattigan had and was not happy. "Obviously after your intolerable nuisances I can't let you win the day and survive." He pulled out his small rodent sized recoilless gun, more like an anti-tank gun in his paws, and her breath hitched as the 9mm barrel rose up to meet her, an odd resignation coming over her as…

The hare shot his arm forward, pushing the barrel to the side as the bullet shot out, bouncing off of the metal inside and glancing her side in a hot sharp cut. He then tore it away, Rattigan left caught alone and shocked in the cloud of back-fired ballast sand behind him.

"Don't worry," Woundwort chuckled, cutting in before Rattigan even had a chance to go on a screaming rant. "This isn't a betrayal or anything. It's just, I can't let you deal with my own business."

Twitching and shaking, the rat took a breath in and out, glaring up at him. "Well, go on then, blow her brains out. It'll be about the only good thing to happen to me on this catastrophe of a day of YOUR OWN MAKING!"

"Oh no, no," he hushed, looking back at her. "She deserves more than that. After all, she was ready to sacrifice herself to get us, wasn't she?"

Breath calming, she looked between them. Even if she wasn't curious about where this going to go, it wasn't like she had any better options. "Well I'd like to think that," she smiled, shrugging.

"And the request for a smoke," the hare questioned, turning back to Rattigan. "Check her pockets."

"WHY!? DIDN'T YOU!?"

He smiled. "I forgot the cunning of a fox. Now, what would you require a lit cigarette for, hmmm?"

"I don't know, you find out," Rattigan hissed.

Woundwort shook his head, jumping forward and fastening a loop around the gate between the two areas. Returning Rattigan's gun to the rodents paws, the weapon immediately up and watching over the pair, Lt Vixen resigned herself to letting the one-eyed mammal feel along her, patting down her back and finally…

"Brave indeed," the hare smiled, pulling out the small explosive charge. A small knife followed it, placed down on the floor only to jump up and down as something loud banged on the top of the vehicle.

"Very interesting. Now what?" Rattigan grunted, as more shakes began to come out from around them. "Sooner rather than later!?"

The hare just looked back, finger to his mouth as he shushed the rat. "Patience. Patience."

"Capture, imprisonment, utter failure, DEATH!" Rattigan growled, throwing up his paws into the air. For a moment, the vixen got the image of Hirschler in the bunker, not long after hearing that Schweiner was not going to attack as ordered. "I'd expect some kind of fear from you, some kind of motivation…"

"Then it's clear you don't really know me," the hare said, softly.

""Maybe so, but I'd expect at least some sense of self preservation. Enjoy the prison cell if you wish, I won't!" The rat growled.

"And yet you have a gun and won't fire," the Woundwort said back.

"Don't tempt me," the rodent muttered, bracing himself a little as the vehicle shook, a warning light coming on. "A useless mercenary and an irritable hostage are still better than neither of those. Marginally…"

"So it is pragmatism that holds you back, not fear?" the hare questioned, turning forward and leaning towards the rat, head pushing forward and the rodent taking a step backwards. "I can understand fear, even if no longer bound by it. I can still sense it in you. A shame, I could liberate you from it. Like I had for me, like I hope to do for her."

Lt Vixen watched on, wry comments and additions held back on the tip of her tongue. If these two were going to just end up killing themselves, then why stop them…

"Liberate…" Rattigan muttered. "And without that what would we be left with? What would stop us just doing what you're doing to us now, leading us to being captured, imprisoned, rendered useless, pathetic. Letting them win."

"The many other things," Woundwort smiled. "For you, the glory of what you plan to achieve. For me? The rush, the thrill on the edge, that fine line, that one mistake or a flick of chance could send you over. And the chance, the ever chance, to take on Kehaar again. In the here and now, or at the fulfilment of your dream."

Rattigan looked on before smirking. "You know, for all my paramour fears you, I think she and you have more in common than you or I. Life, death, it grips you both. But unlike her, you're the one who treads the line. But let me tell you something, you would not find it that exciting, that thrilling, were it not for the fear of failure. Without that…?"

"It would not be a game?" the hare asked. "Are you sure about that?"

Rattigan chuckled. "Show me then. You who doesn't fear death."

The hare just nodded, bringing out his own revolver, removing all but one bullet, spinning and pointing to his head. A silent click rang out.

"You know, I'm now really disappointed," Rattigan sighed.

The hare just smiled, leaning to the cage door and reaching in with the small knife, pointing down at the captive vixen's bindings. "Your arms."

"What are you doing!?" Rattigan hissed.

He shrugged as Lt Vixen, having nothing better to do, shuffled her paws over and let him cut the binding. "I don't know," she smiled, seeing him huffing and hissing, on the edge. One little push over and, sure, she'd probably take a bullet. But whether he missed or hit, Rattigan would get a hare to his everything, and she preferred her chances. "But I like it, Ratty."

"Letting her play the game too," Woundwort said, seemingly ignoring the growl from behind him. "You wish to join in?"

"No, no," Rattigan growled, closing his eyes and trying to take a calming breath. "I'd rather be the sensible one left alive after all of this," he said, teeth bared, pointing his gun at them.

Lt Vixen just looked on, head tilting. Letting her play the game too… Her gaze rested on Woundwort's pistol. "So, was this always your plan? With me?" she asked, as he spun the chamber again and passed it over to her. She gave a quick glance down, spotting the glinting end of the bullet in the bottom right. Three pulls away from a shot.

Were it ready or next in line she could get it off. Before Rattigan had a chance to raise his gun, before Woundwort could try and stop it, she'd blow the little rodent to a pulp. She might even strike the rodent sized pistol in his paws and put it out of action too. That or she could just push the rat over the limit, making him try and strike first, Woundwort leaping in ince more to stop it. Permanently. Gun in her paw, she could take the one who was left, even if it did play poorly with her sentimentality. Or, if she could lever the hare to her side… She liked that one. -But still, silly emotions aside, if she could bet on three horses she'd wager on all of them. May the odds ever be in her favour.

"Something like that," Woundwort smiled.

"Make me walk the line?" She slowly moved it up against her temple, carefully… Just because one round wasn't in there didn't mean another was. Aim it right… Away from any major arteries, just below the brain itself, in front of her brainstem… Or actually behind, the angle would hide it, it'd go through but it should miss the nerve cord… "So tell me," she asked, pulling the trigger and being able to breath again. "What happens if this round, there's only you and Paddy the Ratty left in this drone. What would your little game have achieved?"

Woundwort smiled, even as his ears were pulled around, waiting to hear any move by the fuming rodent. Nothing came as he took the weapon back and spun the chamber once more. "You'd have understood me more for a start," he smiled. Clicking it in place, he held it right up to the side of his temple, full on. "Understood the calm fear, the moment… -I saw you hold your breath there, the calmness before the storm or before the nothing. That first taste of the other side. For a moment, you learnt how I live, all the time."

A click came out, the gun being handed back. She saw the bullet again, a way away from the chamber. A gesture from the hare though made it clear what her instructions were. The gun pointing at her from Rattigan's way only added to her lack of choice, even as the rat kept most of his focus on the cameras, trying to study those on the outside trying to get in. Lt Vixen stared at him, a camera focussed on the figure of Doug.

"You now get to keep that, forever," Woundwort carried on, drawing back her attention.

"Well, for a little moment," the rat said blithely. "Before our little Miss Amanda Pawwer would have her brains blown out by yours truly."

"Oh, a comics fan?" the vixen asked. "Hey, you know Ratman…"

"Do you know any other insults?" Rattigan growled, gun shaking in paws.

"I suppose then that scene would be the starter after my nibbles," the hare said, glancing down at him. "Though don't try anything, unless you wish to be the main course."

"Can we skip to dessert?" she asked, spinning the chamber once more. Clicking it in place, a glance in, she saw the bullet far out again, too far out. Once more she raised the weapon up to her temple, this time moving it down to the corner of her jaw. -Hopefully she'd still have her tongue left after this. "Or is that trying to see him invade Albearta."

Woundwort laughed. "We can have it you know. Any time. Any place. But we're adults now, are we not? We can have ice cream and cookies and cake whenever we want, but we don't. We know to save it."

"I could just give it to you now," she said, raising her eyebrows as a silent click came out.

It was followed by a sudden banging, the vehicle shaking some more.

"Ah, my dear," the hare smiled, bringing the gun back into his own paws. "I shall receive it anyway. One day, or another. But there is a chance, a slim chance, that with him…" He gestured at Rattigan. "I shall have the greatest of my life." He shrugged. "I can hold off until then. I lose nothing by doing so."

"Well," she began, looking on as he opened it up to spin it. "You lose your chance at justice, against him."

He looked over at Rattigan, the rat boiling over rat suddenly doing his best to look squeaky clean and innocent.

"Oh, he didn't tell you what he did to Felicity, to her family?" she asked leaning forward as she played out her royal flush. "I suppose I mentioned something about it before, but didn't go into detail about how he hurt them. How he hurt her. Framing her nephew, who she loved like a son, for…"

"-I…! The rat began, eyes wide as he looked between them. Closing them he brushed himself down. "I most certainly did not," Rattigan waved off dismissively. "If this is the one you're talking about, someone else did. I only sought to take advantage of it."

"Oh, just how so?" she smiled. "Trying to ensure he stayed locked up forever, creating deepfake evidence against him, having your minions spy on the family, taking her brother in law captive and besieging their house, digging it up, ripping it out knowing you may well have crushed them underneath."

A pause filled the aircraft, only interspersed with the ongoing activity outside. "It's meaningless to him," Rattigan waved off. "I've heard his traipse, what is it between her and you?"

"Are they all okay?" the hare asked.

Lt Vixen watched on as the rat's eyes shifted, his gun aim moving slightly. Come on. "Well, out of fear of an emotionally unstable rat with comically villainous delusions of his own power, especially after so many previous subtle performances fell flat he had to resort to the toddler response of flipping the table and chucking the pieces at everyone… They're in witness protection. For now, I presume," she said, idly fussing with the tip of her tail while keeping a look over at the rat. "I'm certain you have some diabolic scheme in the works to break them out and take them hostage, use them as leverage to make Dr Silverfox work for you. Though the fact you're down here crawling around in a jungle, getting help from others, certainly lends support to your own competence, does it not? Ratty?"

"Oohhhh," the rat hissed, shuddering, teeth bared. "When my missus is done with them all, she and I will have so much fun with you!"

"Do you know what Dr Silverfox studied?" She carried on, back to the hare. "Ancient cultures, your culture, the warrior hares of asia minor. Bred for war, rebelling, forming their own. -Even their own outcasts…"

"-Niedelienes…" Woundwort whispered softly, the vixen holding back. "Hawk's home, Keehar's house, he is needed by you, to bring Kehaar back." He closed his eyes and breathed in softly. "I do have… Cares for her," he looked up and smirked at the captive vixen. "Like for you. Different ones, I do not think I would grace her with this… -Gift. But your cards, you played them well, only…" She looked on, ears going down as a giddy smile grew on his face. "I want to meet him. In the metal, in the hate, I want to battle on and on. And this path, Rattigan's path, is the only way to there."

"Unless you blow your brains out," she said, parrying back.

He sighed, smirking. The gun went up to his head, clicked, he shrugged. She saw the gun front on, all exposed barrels empty.

"I have committed to this game now. If I lose, I lose. Such is life."

"There is another way though," the vixen offered, paw out to receive the gun. "We're fighting Keehar too. Differently. Hunting these talismans down, one by one. You could join us."

He gave a chuckle, shaking his head.

"I'm serious," she said, looking over to Rattigan. "As I'm an Amanda Pawwer, Rattigan, explain who I ended up getting as our combat medic?"

The rat was left speechless, clamming up as the hare turned to him.

"I do not know what this will be, but I expect it to be good," he said.

"Well," the rat began. "Just some mid-tier pest she roped in on a 'we pardon you if you help us' job, nothing more, nothing like…"

"-The sniper in the nighthowler scare," she cut in. "Their chief chemist, a mammal who thinks of me, my friends, my family as submammals. Also a very talented combat medic, sniper, the list goes on. Also very pragmatic, if still ideological. Some good level monitoring, he's been cushifying his sentence very nicely for himself." She looked over at Woundwort. "I could strike the same. Someone has to smash these talismans up, one by one. -You battle a resurrected Clockwerk and by some miracle win? He's still out there, in limbo. You come with me, it'll be by your paw he's finished. Forever." She smiled. "And I'm certain there's plenty of juicy commando missions we can find for you too."

She studied him, smiling a little as one of his feet began quivering with excitement, held back from fully thumping by force of will.

-And maybe a harumph from the rodent behind. "You seem to be forgetting that I have multiple shots in this thing."

"Oh quiet you," the hare muttered, smiling as he turned the gun back over to the Vixen's paw. She kept her eyes on it, glancing over to Rattigan, his weapon quite lethal to her if wielded correctly and fired in time. She held onto the if. Gripping it tight, just like…

A bang shook the drone, the vessel lurching forward. Her nose collided with the metal grating fencing her off while Woundwort, falling back, held on too, the gun painfully pulling at her fingers. A throbbing pain in front of her clouded her vision as she glanced over at the rat, thrown against the back wal,l his weapon at his feet and tried to pull hers to face him.

Her fingers strained and ached, barely able to move as she tried to reel the gun in, this was it, this was… -It slipped from her grip, the hare landing on his two feet and holding himself in place.

Everything slowly settled, the stricken craft still bobbing up and down, Rattigan taking up his weapon again and pointing it at them. "SOME HASTE PLEASE!?"

The hare shrugged, popping out the barrel and giving it a spin. "Am I keeping you here?"

"By not charging out in front of me, shooting like mad and sparing me a chance, YES!"

He rolled his eyes, handing the gun back to the vixen, gesturing at her to spin it. Seeing the bullet in one of the far off chambers she was resigned to the task, flipping it out and doing so, slotting it in and…

Another shake threw her back, the rear of her crown smacking against the back wall and her vision going blurry.

"I SAID HASTE!" Rattigan snarled. "Gun up, gun up now or I shoot!"

Woundwort gave him a sneer as Lt Vixen's eyes focussed, seeing the gun on her and the gesture to gather the weapon and aim it. Paw out, she held the barrel up, pointing it towards her and…

She felt her breath hitch, the palling weight of new uncertainty crashing down on her.

This… -This was less than ideal, certainly. Still… "Like this, Rat?"

His gun trembled but did not move to fire.

"This is perfect," the hare smiled, carefully watching the rat. "Thank you for being here, with that." He looked forward, back at Lt Vixen. "I remember you so well. Every chance, every variable, every risk, every mammal with a stake in the game. You knew how to play them, how to judge them, how to come up on top. You were magnificent. Even up until this moment, I my not have known your chips, but I felt you playing them. But here, now?" He smiled. "For once, you're truly there. No more tricks left to pull, no more contingencies to rely on, no more mammals you can play on the board, it's just you on the edge, the control gone as you teeter, caught in the winds of fate. Dancing on the fine line, them so near yet far away, I can see it on you. I can see your heart beat ever faster, that fear coursing through your blood, the ripple of dust and pebbles falling off as you walk along the edge. But it's not there, it's an illusion, do not fear it, jump."

She glanced at them, her odds now lost, unknown, except those that weren't. Those she'd scrape back by the points of her claws. Moving the gun back, down, behind the jaw, below the brain, her eyes narrowing as she let a smirk grow on her. One in six was it? Was it really different to all those other times? Oh he was so right about so many things, she hated it, but she wasn't totally out of control. She still knew her odds and she knew how to land on her paws.

Rattigan growled, as Woundwort gave the order. "-Leap!"

"My pleasure," she smiled, squeezing the…

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