Author:
Branberry and Traveller
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Date Posted: 12:33:57 06/09/05 Thu
In reply to:
Rocket
's message, "Re: Curiosity killed the cat" on 11:22:46 06/09/05 Thu
When Branberry saw Dreamer and heard her speak again, she recognised her with a feeling of dull misery. She felt no hope though. She thought she was doomed. She didn’t see why her sons mate should drag herself into this business. True, they were linked through Traveller, but Branberry had always believed it was all for all and one for one. Why would a perfectly healthy young female put herself into trouble? Branberry didn’t understand the oath of farthing wood, although of course she had heard if it. Her only real experience of helping someone on the spur of the moment was her involvement in Stormy's capture, and that seemed to have ended in disaster anyway.
A thought struck Branberry. Was Traveller there too? Was her own son endangering himself? Branberry was not the most maternal of vixens; to her, cubs where born, grew up, left the earth and that was it. They didn’t meet up with their parents again. The red vixen had never thought she would have met Traveller here. While she was not planning to interfere in his life at all, she felt that if he and his mate were up there fighting blues for her, she would have to stop them. She wasn’t going to have their lives wrecked on her account.
Traveller managed to recover from his shock as the blue Bounder attacked Dreamer. Traveller was hit with rage like a tidal wave. How dare they! These blues first assaulted his elderly mother, now they injure his mate! Traveller was not a violent fox in the slightest; he preferred to see himself as a diplomat who only used violence when violence was the last option. However, this was different. His rage had taken over and his mind was set on pinning that blue and drenching his muzzle in the blood of the enemy. He leapt to Dreamers side with a roar, but the arrival of a big grey-blue fox stopped him from flying at the blue and tearing him limb from limb. He blinked his blue eyes in surprise as the grey mentioned the possibility that Branberry was a mother. The rational part of his brain reasoned that the greyish fox was an ally, but the rest of his mind was set on violence. "That is my mother!" he spat. A tiny part of him regretted making such a bad impression on this blue grey stranger, but he was occupied with anger. He could barely contain himself enough to stay put. And the grey had been rude to his mate.
With a huge effort, Branberry hauled herself out of the frosty ditch and stood on violently shaking legs. She was painfully aware that in doing so she was putting herself in a spot even more open for attack but she was too curious to stay put for any longer. She lay panting on the snow and registered several things. Firstly, the vixen was her sons lady-friend Dreamer and she was bleeding. Secondly, the army of blues that she had been so sure that surrounded her seemed to consist of just two blues. One was young, barely grown but perfectly capable of being a threat. The other, who she knew from the Stormy incident, was standing laughing although he had a scratched face. Thirdly, her own son Traveller was indeed there, and looking half-crazed, accompanied by, surprisingly, none other than the great Farthing Wood Fox himself. And finally, there was a mature but good looking blue male standing in the middle of it all speaking with the authority of a leader. Branberrys vanity flared up with 10 times its usual force. She was in the open looking half dead in front of the great Fox himself, his daughter and a blue stranger, who she didn’t know but was a male and so had her interest. The red vixen remembered her reason for dragging herself out of the ditch that she had been so sure would become her grave.
“Traveller!” she growled hoarsely. “Take your mate away from danger, you foolish Cub! Did I teach you nothing as a youngster? Save your own skin you fool! That is your purpose. Your priority lies with yourself and Dreamer and the rest of your lives!” She gulped the air and tried to hold her head high, feeling sure that the blues would kill her any moment now. She was not going to be the cause of the destruction of her fully grown son and his famously linked mate. She would have told Fox to leave as well, but was too in awe of him to dare try and order him to do anything. Secretly, she was highly flattered that he was there at all. What a shame he had a mate already! As for the big blue, she had not a clue who he was, but he didn’t seem to be an enemy as the other two younger blues were. She couldn’t help hoping he was rescuing her as well, and that the two enemy blues would flee when faced by two older experienced foxes, plus a furious male and his young but feisty mate. The effort of standing became too much and the red vixen toppled sideways, much to her shame. Her illness was taking its toll in a horrible way and it tore her dignity to shreds to be looking so rubbish in front of the other foxes, both friends and enemies. “Go now, Cub,” she said faintly to her son.
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