Nox the Ferocious! It was a name that instilled fear in many, though none believed it to be an actual creature. Oh, how wrong they were. One of the last survivors of the Northern Famine, Nox staggered out of the enormous pine copse to a bright, sunny day. Half-starved, the jaguar let his jet black fur that gave him his name soak up the sun, and then issued a long howl of triumph. He had survived! Over the seasons he grew stronger, physically, and in another way: a horde. The rakings and scrapings of the earth, he brought them together, and soon everybeast came to fear that night-black jaguar who prowled the shadows, waiting for his next chance to strike, for he was Nox the Ferocious!
From the cold harsh winter,
Mother Nature does …Read more >
A candle lay sideways, its wax dripping between a gap in the planks of a scorched table. A small, grizzled mouse clad in a dusty green robe,stumped in the doorway, past the heeling door, relieved of it's hinges, and across the small cabin that somebeast before had called home. Shaking his head, the old one worked a gleaming knife free of the bedside table, now minus a leg. Speaking to a small, frail mouse lying on the bed, he said,
"Abbess Marlee, who did this to yore family? And another question, why ain't you at Redwall?" Instead of answering his questions, the old Abbess lifted a blanket with effort, revealing a tiny mousebabe, barely a season old.
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"Please take..." she gasped,"my grandson. Do not... Take him to... The Abbey. He would not…