| Subject: (*grins* Yay! Somebeast was listening! Thanks mate, you made my day...) Well, onward to CHAPTER THREE! |
Author:
Dakkan
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Date Posted: 04:24:19 06/29/04 Tue
In reply to:
Dakkan
's message, "More revivals!" on 03:12:28 06/08/04 Tue
CHAPTER THREE: THE ARRIVAL
Riverpike was the first to the fallen otter’s side. He wiped the sweat from the poor beast’s forehead and with the help of a few others, dragged him inside and placed him on a blanket. The current holt Chieftain, a big black otter known as Nitestream, picked up a jug of water and brought it over. He cupped a paw and scooped up some water, which he dashed on the senseless otter’s forehead. “C’mon, Waterfall…” he urged, and relaxed a little when the muscular otter stirred, groaned, and opened his eyes.
Nitestream set down the water jug and knelt by him, using a corner of the blanket to wipe moisture from his brow. “Waterfall…what’s happened to you, mate?”
Wincing a bit, the big tough otter sat up, rubbing a bruise on his jaw. “Bad news, mateys. Y’know th’ old ruins near the river?”
Riverpike nodded. “Yes, what about ‘em?”
“Vermin army came through ten minutes ago. I had to hurry to the old church and tell the mice livin’ there to get goin’. They got away safely, went straight north as I recall. Anyway, as I was comin’ out of th’ church, their army was passing in front of the door. Luckily they were surprised enough for me to knock down a few and escape into the woods. I gashed my shoulder on one of their spearblades and got all bruised up as they tried to stop me. Several of them, especially the ones I’d floored, started to run after me, but their leader stopped them. I heard him shout, ‘Forget it! Wait until we’ve conquered this land and can fix up that old stone castle. Then you can capture and kill who you wish!’”
The otters began talking all at once angrily. “They can’t just conquer Mossflower!”
“Aye, let’s get all the crews together an’ beat the stuffin’ out of ‘em!”
Waterfall coughed painfully, shaking his head. “You have no idea how many vermin there are. I saw roughly five hundred, maybe more. And these aren’t the scurvy thieves we’re used to. These are ferrets, weasels, and stoats with training as soldiers. To top it off, their leader is a huge wildcat. There were also two other smaller wildcats by his side, probably his offspring. There are few fighters as strong and ferocious as a full grown wildcat.”
Silence prevailed in the holt. The otters exchanged worried glances and some gnawed anxiously on their claws.
Riverpike offered a suggestion. “Then I guess the element of surprise is our best chance. Wait until the wildcat and his pack of vermin get settled comfortably in. Meanwhile, we’ll be joining all the ottertribes in these parts into one big crew. While they relax and get soft, we’ll be training until nothing can stand against us! Then, we’ll attack and send the evil pack on their way.”
Nitestream nodded. “Just what I was about to say. Mudd, spread the word to the other holts,” he ordered, pointing at a sleek otter with a rich brown coat. Mudd nodded dutifully and bounded outside. Not long after, there was a splash and he was gone.
Icespring noticed her three sons headed toward the holt entrance. “Where d’you think you three are goin’ with all those vermin out there?”
Riverwyte held up a dinner knife he’d purloined from the table. “We’re goin’ out there to fight ‘em, an’ chop ‘em all up into little bits…”
“Enough!” Icespring took the eating utensils from the young otters and shooed them away. “Get off to your rooms an’ make those beds. Then you can play in here, but don’t go outside!”
Scowling, Bargud, Warthorn, and Riverwyte trudged off to do their mother’s bidding.
There was a rustling of foliage outside, and a young squirrel about four or five seasons old appeared in the doorway. She wore a simple green tunic and carried a knapsack on her back. “I’ve got a ‘portant message from my mum the Squirrelqueen!” Opening her little knapsack, the small red squirrel pulled out a scroll and handed it to Nitestream.
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