The two Painted Ones, Rigglo and Glinga were out foraging for food when they heard a loud swish whoosh they went to investigate chattering wildly, "Yeeheehee, maybe that were one of our traps catchering one o' them Reddywallers!"
Rigglo replied, "Maybe, but you said it wrong, its not Reddywaller its Redwaller, like the Abbey thy comes from Redwall."
Glinga sneered, "Well I says it how I wants to say it, so don't ye go tellin' me what to say an' what to do, snotnose!"
Rigglo shrugged, "Wotever ye say tick'ead. But I didn't 'ave to join yore tribe ya know. I coulda escaped from ye easy, I woulda gaddered up some wayward creatures and started me own searaider crew, instead of joinin' yer scummy lot, ye sniggelty woofler!"
Glinga brandished a big club menacingly, "Tich'ead is it? An' whats a sniggelty woofler? I don't care if ye didn't join us, we woulda hunted yew down all the same."
Rigglo drew a cutless from his belt, "I could run ya through right now an' be t'rew witchya, painted bum. Aye, and tell yer chief you fell inna swamp, or was taked by a giant bird. But I won't, now let's go see what made that swishy noise!"
Glinga lowered his club reluctantly, knowing that he would be no match against the big, former searat who had the only blade in the Painted One tribe. He turned and saw the tall, muscular, smoke-gray furred squirrel fire the arrow. Glinga was about to dodge out of the way but wasn't fast enough, the arrow hit him in the eye. The squirrel turned with another arrow on the string,he aimed for Rigglo, but Rigglo was long gone and running for the Painted one camp, blowing the alarm on a bone whistle.