| Subject: Chapter 3 |
Author:
Dusklight
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Date Posted: 18:53:39 11/07/02 Thu
In reply to:
Dusklight
's message, "A Tear for Winter's Fury" on 18:35:17 11/06/02 Wed
Chapter 3
Late in the afternoon, it began to pour. Droplets of warm summer rain rolled off the leaves of the trees, and gathered in puddles on the path. Little Bit skipped along, splashing her way through every puddle she could find.
The rain stopped later that evening, and Winter's Fury set up camp. A very dirty Little Bit eyed the fox suspiciously as he heated a pot of water in the campfire. "Whattya doin'?"
Winter's Fury tested the water with a paw, and then lifted it from the fire.
"Some muddy beast needs a bath."
"Yah, you does, ya mucky fossker," giggled Little Bit nervously.
"Me? I am not the beast who jumped in mud puddles all afternoon."
"Den who?" she asked, looking at Winter's Fury with big, innocent eyes.
"You!" With lightening-quick reflexes he grabbed the small hare's back leg before she had a chance to run. She shrieked and wiggled, trying to get loose.
Noooo Baaaaaafff! Yaaaaaaaah! Nooooooo! She cried, as he plunged her into the warm bath water. She thrashed and splashed in the pot and he scrubbed the mud from her fur.
"MossFloooooooowweeeeeer!" As slingstone narrowly missed Winter's Fury, as an unknown creature charged into the camp.
The fox quickly let go of Little Bit. He grabbed his sword and threw himself between Little Bit and the attacker.
"Hide, Little Bit!"
The creature was an otter, armed with a javelin and a sling. "Vermin! Scum! Eater of babes! Prepare to visit the dark forest this night."
Winter's Fury glanced over his shoulder; the tiny hare was out of sight. The fox's evil-looking eyes gleamed angrily at the invader.
"Freeeeeedoooooooom!" The otter threw himself at the fox, fighting him paw to paw, javelin to sword. The otter fought like a madbeast, but he could not defeat the fox's rage. Winter's Fury's sword sliced through the wooden javelin, and knocked the otter to the ground.
Defeated and weaponless, the otter looked up into the fox's eyes.
Winter's Fury stood over his challenger, prepared to kill him. But his eyes . . . his eyes were not the hate-filled eyes of Winter's Fury's parents, or the eyes of the countless other murderous vermin he had encountered. His eyes were as the eyes of the hares.
Winter's Fury thrust his blade into the dirt next to the otter's head.
"Go away."
Little Bit climbed out of a bramble and ran to Winter's Fury, whimpering and hugging his tail. The fox lifted the harechild into his arms and carried her across the small camp. Keeping one eye on the otter, he began to gently dry her off with some soft cloth. He dressed her in a clean smock and began to chop vegetables their dinner.
After some time the otter stood up. The honest eyes of the otter met the evil-looking eyes of the fox. "Uh, I owe you an apology. You see, I though you were going to, er . . .well, . . .anyway, I misjudged you."
"Go away."
"I was wonder'n if I could travel with you n' yore liddle un."
Confusion filled the fox's eyes. "Why would you want to travel with me? I almost killed you."
"But you didn't kill me." The otter smiled, he approached the fox and held out his paw. "My name's Riffle Sleekback."
Winter's Fury was filled with unease. He liked the otter, but he could not understand him. Finally the fox extended his paw to the otter. "I am Winter's Fury."
Riffle Sleekback shook the fox's paw heartily. Then, the otter got down on his knees and brought his face close to Little Bit, who was hiding under the fox's tail. "Ahoy, liddle mate, n' what's yore name?"
Little Bit parted some of the tailfur and peaked out at the otter, then quickly hid her face again. Rising, the otter walked across the camp and into the woods; he emerged seconds later with a half full haversack. He dug around in his sack, until he found a small dock leaf package. Opening the leaf, and pulled out a candied chestnut, and returning to Little Bit, he offered the nut to her.
The tiny hare crawled out from underneath the fox's tail and accepted the chestnut. She threw the chestnut hard at the otter's head, and scurried back under the fox's tail.
Winter's Fury grinned. "She is my child."
"I believe it," Riffle replied, rubbing his forehead.
Winter's Fury returned to chopping up vegetables for a dinner salad, and Riffle pulled three mushroom and leek pasties out of his haversack, and set them to warm by the fire.
The pasties smelled delicious, like the food the hares use to make. Although Winter's Fury always had plenty of food for himself and Little Bit, he was no cook.
Riffle handed the fox a hot pasty, and helped himself to the fox's salad. "So, where ya from, mate?"
"North."
"And where ya headed?" the otter asked.
"South."
"Goin' anyplace in particular, mate?" the otter enquired.
"No. I just want to find someplace safe to bring up Little Bit." Winter's Fury fixed his evil-looking eyes on the tiny harebabe. She was picking the vegetables out of her pasty with a gravy-covered paw. "I do not want her to know pain or want."
"Why don't ya head over to Redwall Abbey," the otter replied around a mouthful of pasty.
"Redwall Abbey? What's that?"
Riffle Sleekback grinned broadly. "A wonderful home for all goodbeasts. I've been think'n 'bout headn' over that way myself. Love the Abbey, I does. I tell ya, mate, Redwall Abbey just may be the place you have been search'n for.
Little Bit yawned. Her eyelids were dropping and her head nodding closer and closer to the dissected pasty. Winter's Fury opened his haversack and pulled out a quilt.
Handmade by some craftsbeast, the quilt was made up of squares with skillful pictures stitched into them. Some held little hares, others butterflies and flowers, moon and stars, pictures of the seasons; it was a beautiful blanket. Halfway down, however, the pictures stopped. The craftsbeast had never finished. Some unskilled creature had jaggedly stitched two ragged forms onto the unfinished half of the quilt. On close inspection, Riffle determined that the larger figure was a fox, and the smaller one was a hare.
Wrapping Little Bit tightly in the quilt, he rocked her gently in his arms.
"Sing da song fa me, Winna," the tired babe mumbled.
Winter's Fury began to sing quietly to the babe.
The sun has set in a sky of fire,
The moon and stars shine through the night.
All the youngbeasts are quite tired,
Wrap them warm in blankets tight.
The day has gone; the night is here.
Drooping eyes and nodding head,
And now you go to sleep, my dear,
Safe and warm upon your bed.
The fur on the back of Riffle's neck rose as the fox sang the well-known woodland lullaby. His low, whispering chant sounded like a spirit from the darkforest. Little Bit, however, was fast asleep; completely content in the fox's arms.
As sky grew dark and the stars appeared, Winter's Fury's mind began to wander. Perhaps this Redwall Abbey was the place he was looking for. Tomorrow he would question the otter further.
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