Wounds have I sixteen, is slit my byrnie,
dim grows my sight, I see no longer:
to my heart did hew, venom-hardened,
Angantýr’s sword slashing sharply.
Shall fair ladies never learn that I,
from blows me shielding, backward turned me;
nor shall ever Ingibiorg taunt me,
in Sigtúna sitting,that from sword-blows I fled.
Unwilling nowise,from women’s converse,
from their sweet songs I with Soti fared,
hastened to join the host to eastward, went the last time forth from friends so dear.
Led me the white-browed liege’s daughter
to the outmost end of Agnafit
Is borne out thus that back I would not
wend from this war: so the wise maid said.
From Ingibiorg—came ill-hap swiftly—
I fared forth, then,on fated day:
a lasting sorrow to the lady,this,
since not e’er after each other we’ll see.
To have and to hold I had five manors;
on that land to live misliked me, though. Now, robbed of life,I lie here,spent,
by the sword wounded,on Sáms-isle’s shore.
(Hialmar's Death Song; Old Norse Poem)
Prologue
Although spring had already begun a few days ago, it had not yet set in, evidently shown by blanket of snow in some areas. Now that the cold, bitter winter had died down, the time of war had returned once more. Hares; young and old, registered to join the army.
The landscape was seemingly barren, to a naked eye. However, if one where to look closer, they would be able to spot out a ripple in the distance. The ripple was an army camp, set up by Southern Army Hares. The camp was next to a river, which was convenient, seeing that the company had marched quite a distance. Gathered around a campfire, some played cards and drank, others slept, while others wrote letter home. A rather gloomy atmosphere lingered in the camp; there would be war soon.
Camouflaged against barren white tents and snow, a cloaked figure floated through the camp, it's pace quick and rapid. No one seemed to notice the creature, nor the bundle it clung to in it's paws. The head swiveled around a few times, the beast worried about something. A few hares averted their eyes to the veiled figure, but their attention wasn't kept for long. It was most likely a lost hare wife, carrying some vittles home for supper.
Captain Balthor, however, had a keen eye, and immedietly was suspicious of the lonesome creature. Sipping some Nettle beer, he turned over to a soldier sitting close to him.
"Hey, Proctor!" He nudged the young hare, then pointing to the cloaked beast. "Y'know who's that?"
"N-no, Cap'n." Proctor answered slowly. "Looks awfully suspicious, don't it?"
Balthor nodded, as he began to rise up. "Your right, laddie. Best t'see what the blasted thing is, eh?"
The Captain strode up confidently to the Creature, sizing it up considerably. Looking straight at it, he directed his attention to the veiled figure in front of him.
"Wot's y'buisness here, eh, eh? Y'got anywhere to be?"
The creature took a step back, not expecting this type of attention at all.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm a bit lost, you see. Would you please tell me where the nearest village is? I'm looking for a place to say." It affirmed softly. Balthor raised an eyebrow, but decided to help the creature. It did look lost, and didn't look much like a spy, at least.
"Head south until y'spot a big ol' pine. Then, turn west, an' you'll stumble upon The West Forest Village. Peaceful, calm place, the West Forest Village is. Hares are nice an' friendly, vittles warm an' tasty. Should fill y'needs, I suppose."
The Veiled creature bowed down, showing it's gratitude. "Many Thanks, Sire. May Fate be kind." And with that, the creature began to move south, in hope of the West Forest Village.
~*~*~
Knock Knock!
"Sussana, would you please open the door f'me? I do so believe some beast is there, y'know."
An old, bone thin Hare Wife responded to the call, her face molded in scorn and annoyance. "Yewdore, Y'lazy, picked frog! Do I gotta do every flippin' thing for yeh, Wot!?" Rushing from the kitchen to the front door, Sussana carefully brushed her plain dress, before answering to the loud knocks. Slowly opening the door, she found no one standing there, that is, until she looked down.
The rich, warm eyes of a badger babe stared at her intently. It neither cried not yelled, instead, simply looking at the Hare wife. Sussana was in utter disbelief. What sort of creature would just simply leave a babe in front of another beast's doorstep?
Sussana quickly grabbed ahold of the babe, shutting the door firmly behind her.
"Yewdore! Yewdore! Come here right this moment!" She yelled, as she ran over to the dormitory. The lank male hare came in, his whiskers twitching a bit. "Hell's teeth, Sussana! Can't ye lower ye voice a bit?"
Instead of giving back a smart reply, she motioned for her husband to sit next to her. Yewdore's eyes widened in amazement, when he saw the precious bundle.
"By Me Aunt's blue stripped pinny, Sussana! A Badger Babe? Wherever did you find it?"
"I found it in front of our door." Answered the Harewife, as she cradled the, now sleeping, badger babe. "I didn't see any adult with it, so I suppose it be an orphan. Poor dear, all alone. What should we do with it, Yewdore?"
"We keep it, of course!" The Hare lept up with joy. "What other options do we have?"
Sussana smiled slightly, petting the babe as it yawned. "What shall we name it? I suppose it be a maid, so It ought to be a maid name." She paused for a bit. "I always liked the name Daisy."
Yewdore shook his head, obviously having a better idea than his unoriginal wife. "These are times of war, Sussana! Badgers are tough nuts; or so I read in a book. It'd be best we give this lassie a warlike name! Somethin' bold and strong, but feminine, in a way."
"And what sort of name would that be?"
"Hm..." Inquired Yewdore, stroking his chin, before he came up with an acceptable name for the badger babe.
"Eulalia. It means 'Victory', in the language of old."
Book 1: The Ascent
"The fettered beast was then transported to some suitably lonely and desolate place. The chain was tied to a boulder and a sword was placed in the wolf’s jaws to hold them open. As he howled wildly and ceaselessly, a foamy river called “Expectation” (Old Norse Ván) flowed from his drooling mouth. And there, in that sordid state, he remained – until Ragnarok."
(Received from [[1]])
Chapter 1
Eight seasons have passed, since the arrival of the Badger Babe, known as Eulalia. Tranquility had been kept in the Western Forest Village for yet another eight seasons, and no beast seemed very interested in the war, aside from small talk and gossip. No male hare had to sign up for the army from the village, and no one intended from going.
It was the middle of a pleasant autumn morning. The trees had been sporting their colors for quite a while now, and their branches where slumping under the weight of russet apples. Adults were working in the fields, elders were recalling their younger years, while Leverets were preparing for the upcoming Harvest Festival. However, among the stillness of the West Forest Village, a certain striped beast was pulling a large sack of flour behind her. A few Adults allowed themselves to smile at the silly sight, one even approaching the little Badger.
“Hello Little one. Do you need any help?”
“Um...Um...No thank you, sir.” Eulalia answered awkwardly. She quickly tried to escape the adult, suddenly becoming fascinated in the bag of flour. She lumbered on with her task, while Leverets pointed and laughed; not having care in the world.
Eulalia Stuck her tongue out at them rebeliously, trying to make them stop, and then proceded to her task. As she travelled the long journey to her own Cottage, she overheard comments from nearby leverets, taking advantage of Eulalia’s strange appearance.
“Hehehe! My pop says that Striped dog issa Badger! Silly thing, ain’t it?”
“Striped Dog, hahahohoha! Good name, Fran!”
“Look’it ‘er! She’s so short and pudgy! She’d never win the upcoming race!”
Although she tried hard to ignore them, the comments were biting away at her. However, she persevered, and ignored them. Seeing that the Badger didn’t respond, the one named Fran saw an opportunity. She whispered to the smaller hare next to her, making her voice audible to the Badger. “She doesn’t belong in the Village. She’s not even a Hare.”
Suddenly, Eulalia decided to take matters upon her own paw. She was upon them, her face red with fury. How dare they make fun of her, and poke at her strange appearance? She had as much right to live in the Village as they did. Furious, she poked the supposed ring-leader, Fran, ready to give them a smart lecture.
“Shut your trap, missie! Unlike you, I’m actually trying to get some work done, While you and yore liddle gang be watching me from afar!”
Fran looked shocked, completely foreign to the fact that the striped dog could even speak back to her. Luckily, her little brother had taken the reigns, and had decided to talk back to the Badger in the same tone as she had spoken to his sister.. Although he was just as old as Eulalia, he was shorter than an average leveret, and he still insisted to speak in the common Dibbun speech.
“Dun talk to my sissa like dat! Meanie-Head!” He then stuck his tongue out at Eulalia, trying to mimic her habits. “You’m be a bad un’! Imma gunna...Imma gunna hit’cha!”
Smack!
When the Leveret had been speaking, Eulalia had swiftly slapped in the cheek. A light red mark appeared where she hit him, and the Leveret was in pain. Biting his lip, he swelled his chest, trying to size up his opponent. “I challenge yah t’the festivil contests! Whoevah winz da most, issa better, an’ getsa Marmel’s Appa Pie! Dial?” He asked, extending his paw for a pawshake.
“Deal.” Answered Eulalia, shaking his paw Firmly.
~*~*~
“Eulalia, how could ya hit such a frail leveret such as Dolph! I thought I taught ya t’do the opposite thing, gel!”
Upon hearing the news that her Foster Daughter hit a young babe, Sussana couldn't help but be ashamed. Didn’t she raise Eulalia to be kind, docile, the complete opposite of this type of behavior? And to think that She planned on beating Dolph in a race...Unthinkable!
“I’m very disappointed in you! Wot d’ya got to say for y’self?”
“They deserved it.” Eulalia mumbled under her breath. Frankly, she felt little to no guilt about challenging that little runt to a contest. It was him and his sisters who tormented her regularly, from spreading rumors, to blaming that she was the one who ate the big plum cake. In her mind, her actions were merely justice.
“Go To the dormitory! You will not come out until you learn better!” She paused a bit, before adding, “And no scones f’you!”
As the badger trudged into the the dormitory, she felt that her foster mother was being more ignorant than usual. Had it not come to her mind, that it was the hares that were doing to wrong? “Why do I always have to be the one in trouble?” She called out, only for silence to respond.
In the distance, she could hear her foster father object to his wife’s reasoning. “Now now, Sussana. No need to get hasty, y’know. Calm down and make some tucker. ‘lalia only did so to mind that rascal Dolph.”
“I’ll mind you if you don’t shut y’trap!” Was Sussana’s reply.
Although she was melancholy on the situation, Eulalia chose not to procrastinate; she did have a deal to win the events at the festival, didn’t she? Even Sussana couldn’t stop that. With that, Eulalia began running around in circles; a very strenuous form of exercise, in the little Badger’s mind.
~*~*~
Evening had just begun to form in the West Forest Village. Eulalia had been training the whole time; lifting chairs, lifting books, running around some more, throwing supplies at a target, and some more. All in all, she was tired. Hopping into her designated cot, she began imagining what would happen when she won. That little Dolph would be bawling his eyes out, his sister perfectly humiliated. On the other hand, Sussana and Yewdore would be cheering loudly, and Eulalia’s head would be crowned in a circlet of roses and daisies. But the best part would be Old Marmel’s pie. Old Marmel was an ancient female rabbit; the oldest thing in the village. She was bone thin, with a film over her eyes, and almost no teeth left in her gums. Contrary to her ghastly appearance, she made the most delicious apple pie one would ever taste. Eulalia licked lips at the thought.
Bam!
Surprised by the sudden knock on the front door, Eulalia scrambled up from her cot, over to the keyhole in the dormitory door. Widening her eye, she took a look to see what the knock on the front door was about.
Sussana Quickly made her way to the front door, brushing any dirt off her dress, as always. She then proceeded to open the door, only to gasp in horror. Eulalia’s vision was blocked, so she didn’t know what her foster mother saw. Sussana cried, “Yewdore! Come here this instant!”
It was a hare, the thing that Sussana dragged into the cottage. Eulalia herself gasped at his horrid appearance. He was sickly thin and malnourished, evident in his hollow cheeks and reed-thing hind legs. He was missing an entire ear; the thing having been ripped off his scalp. Area’s where bandaged poorly, some falling off to reveal open, unkept wounds. His Right leg was heavily bandaged.
Yewdore joined his wife in short time, helping her carry the dying soldier to a nearby mattress. When he was finally set down, the young soldier managed to give a nod of a head, wincing almost immediately.
“Ughh...Th..Thanks. I can...I can die easy know…” He said hoarsely. Sussana bit a lip, as Yewdore inspected his uniform closely, speaking to the soldier in a soft, gentle tone.
“You come from the 18th Regiment of the South Army, Son? My Cousin, Balthor. You know him.”
“Ol’...Bal...thor? S-sorry. Dead. Head was...blown off…”
“....I see.”
Sussana hurried over to the soldier’s aid, washing his wounds, and feeding him bits and pieces. The Soldier nodded in gratitude. “Thanks...Thanks Marm. M’names...Proc...proctor…Four...Fourteenth Regiment..."
She nodded, signalling to be silent. While she was attending to his wounds, the bandages on his right leg fell off. Sussana winced, as did Eulalia, who had to stuff her paw in her mouth, to prevent a scream. The thing was cut to the bone, yellow and red mixing to make a putrid color. “Best...not to waste...waste...food…” Proctor Croaked, "On a dying....heap...no?" Sussana began trembling, grief overcoming the old harewife. So this was the true face of war...
Yewdore silently went to the side, Sussana joining him when she finished cleaning Proctor up. The two were silent, allowing the soldier to pass away peacefully. However, Proctor refused to die so soon. He had much more to say.
“The King...The King! N...North King! C...Came! Kill! He...He killed...killed everyone...I...I was lucky….I made it out….Everyone’s...Everyone’s dead…” Sussana stifled a sob, Yewdore holding her paw.
Just as Proctor was about to pass, he managed to whisper a small piece of information. He felt that he owed these two elders; they gave him a nice place to die. A warning; it was the best he could do.
“The King’s...Eyes….Red as….Red as Blood...his eyes….”
He then allowed his vision to blur. He coughed, exhaled, and died. Yewdore shook his head, murmuring, "War ain't glorious, as y'can see by this Proctor lad. I only wish all those bucks who left where still here. That King ain't one to mess with."
Sussana nodded, clenching her paws into a fist. "Blood an' fur, may the North King be cast away to Hellgates!"
This was the last thing Eulalia heard. She rolled up into a ball, her back against a wall. She couldn't get that soldier out of her head. His last words...Eyes like blood...What could it mean? She shivered. "I'm glad Papa isn't in th'war." She mumbled, before drifting off to sleep.
Chapter 2
Her sleep was, at first shallow, but then, grew deeper and deeper; like a beast drowning in calm waters…
Eulalia awoke suddenly, her head clouded and ringing with pain. Rubbing her head, she inspected her surroundings, not sure where she was at all. The ground was bleak and hard, powdered in a bit of snow. The Tree’s where painfully thin, their bare branches clattering in the sharp cold breeze. The Badger Maid ran over to one of the trees, huddling against them, her teeth chattering. She hadn’t experienced such cold weather in seasons. She swore she was last in her room; how could she have got here?
The dark shadow on the tree made the Badger’s fur stand on end. She tried making herself stand up... but she couldn’t...Why? Why of all places? Why couldn’t she move? In vain, she grabbed a hold of the tree, trying to pry herself off. Alas, she was rooted to the place. The cold breath blew at her fur, causing the badger maid she cough. The shadow grew larger...and Larger.
The breathe in her throat was becoming more scarce; she couldn’t bring herself to breathe...what could she do...what could she do?!
Snap!
The sudden noise caused the badger maid to curl up tighter. Her heart hammered against her chest. The shadow became larger, and larger, and larger….Until it leapt suddenly at the Badger Maid with a terrifying skreech!
Eulalia awoke in a cold sweat. Her heart was still pounding, and she was on the verge of tears. She didn’t want to exit the warm, safe haven of her cot, but she forced herself out. The sun had already risen up into the sky, although it was not visible through the bleak, grey clouds. The badger maid shook her face, trying to rid her eyes of sleep.
Her eyes drifted over to a small chair in the corner of the room. Sussana or Yewdore Must’ve come into her room. On the chair, lay a spoon, and a bowl of porridge. Eulalia curiously trotted to the bowl, her stomach faintly rumbling. She quickly snatched her breakfast, and returned to her comfortable cot, where she proceeded to eat. She made made face while eating the porridge; it was cold, and lacked a spoonful of honey. Nevertheless, she still continued to eat.
Just as she was about to analyze her dream from last night, a light knock was heard from the door. A gentle, yet stern voice was heard.
“Lalie? Y’wake? Can I come in, eh?”
Eulalia immediately recognized the Voice’s owner as her foster father’s; Yewdore. Lazily, she trudged over to the door. Opening it slowly, the old hare walked into the dormitory, a cheerful expression present.
“Good Morn’, Gel! Didja eat y’breakfast? Good, ain’t it? I made it m’self.”
“It was...Scrumptious…” She answered with a weak smile. Beaming, Yewdore strode over to his foster daughter, patting her head. However, his voice then descended to a whisper barely audible. Leaning close, he disclosed what he had to say.
“Alright. Listen. Listen Well. Sussana’s out o’the jolly hut, y’know. Vegetables, she says, from the Southern River Village.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Wot I’m tryin’ t’say ‘ere, is that if y’say sorry to that lad Dolph, y’free. Free to go where y’please.”
Eulalia crossed her arms. She didn’t want to say sorry to the blighter who insulted her. However, the more she thought about it, the more she reconsidered. She couldn’t train the majority of her life in a stuffy dormitory; she was a Badger! She deserved to be free. Also, just because she said sorry didn’t necessarily mean she was sorry.
“Do I have t’say ‘sorry’, to his sissers?”
Yewdore raised an eyebrow. “Did you slap ‘em as well?” She shook her head. “Then y’don’t gotta say ‘sorry’ to ‘em.”
~*~*~
The Day was unusually chilly, for an Autumn afternoon. One factor was that the sun was completely blotted out by thick, oily grey clouds. A sort of gloom hung in the air. Northern winds occasionally blew to and fro, causing the badger made to wince. She had thrown a blanket over her shoulders, to protect herself from the frosty air. Yewdore sported a thin scarf, the cold seemingly not bothering him. The two made small talk on the way.
“So, Lalie. Y’plannin’ on beatin’ Dolph in the race?”
“Of course!” shouted Eulalia joyfully. “I’ll give him a taste of what it feels like to be humiliated!”
The two quickly reached their destination. It was a stout hut, similar to Eulalia and Yewdore’s, but slightly larger. They had a somewhat messy garden in the back, and flowers decorated the house’s perimeter. The Badger Maid sighed with longing; she always tried to convince Sussana to plant flowers around the house.
In the front of the house, two hares were racing, a younger one, most presumably Dolph, and a larger, older one, most presumably his father. Both Hares were smiling, and ,maybe, even having fun. Yewdore stepped forward, motioning the squirming Badger Maid with him.
“Ahem hem! G’day, Chaps! Allen, good day t’you as well! I must say, is that a new handkerchief your sporting. Lookin’ good their, wot!” The Hare known as Allen stopped running. He looked up at the elderly hare, his smile still present. “An’ G’day to y’too, Yewdore, ol’ bucko!” He ran up to Yewdore, hitting him in the shoulder good naturedly. Eulalia glared at Dolph the whole while. Both were still enemies. At least that wasn’t going to change.
Yewdore cleared his throat before speaking. “Anyways, Friend, you may ‘ave heard of a little Badger maid, given’ yore lad a good whack…”
Allen Chuckled. “Oh, yes, I have! Say, If Dolph is ever misbehaven’, I’ll be sure to call the gel over, wot wot!”
It was her cue. Eulalia waddled in front of Yewdore; directly looking at Dolph. Taking a deep breath, she recited her apology.
“Dolph Raithi Aurbernt, I am deeply sorry and remorseful, for hitting you oh so hard in the face. You see, I was merely enraged by the fact that you and your sisters, Fran and Janine, were shrieking so happily at my pathetic misery. In fact, perhaps what I did really was justice in it’s purest form. However, I acted rashly and childish, since i am, in all truth, nothing but a mere child. Don’t you understand, Dolph Raithi Aurbernt? Although we be dibbuns, we are not allowed to act as we truly are. When you think about, us beats are nothing but hideous, when we strip down out mask and eloquent speeches, as such.” Eulalia took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s funny, isn’t it? But I must continue. I see your face has healed quite considerably, Dolph Raithi Aurbernt. I meant to put a bit more force into it, but I thought of the consequences, of course. Do not think, just because i show empathy, that I’ve backed out of the race. Oh no, oh no. Not at all. In fact, I’ve been training quite strenuously. I’ll see your ugly face, after I’ve won. Do not get your hopes up...Dolph Raithi Aurbernt.”
Yewdore raised an eyebrow. “That was quite some speech, Lalie. Do you think it is satisfactory, Dolph Raith-...Dolph?”
The levert sneered at the badger maid, obviously not impressed. However, he was in front of his father. He needed to act cordial, for now, that is. He reached out his paw to Eulalia, who shook it with great gusto. She seemed pleased with herself. Rolling his eyes, the Hare sped off to some unknown location.
Allen laughed at the antics of his son. “Hoho! Good show, I say! Anyhoo, I’m going to the tavern to get a drink. Join me, If y’like.” He then left the scene, strolling over to the nearest tavern.
Yewdore looked over at Eulalia, the badgermaid unsure whether to go or not to go. Her foster father shrugged, his whiskers drooping a bit. Finally, she nodded, allowing the two to go. She could use a bit of hot apple cider. Who wouldn’t, in this gloomy weather?
~*~*~
The Lucky Rosy tavern was bustling with action, most every table filled by either hare or drink. A warm, oily light filled the building, and a cheerful fire was going, lighting up the action and events. Waitresses hurried around, filling and taking orders.
Eulalia sniffed the air, the pleasant smell of food pleasing her immensely. She immediately forgot all ehr misery at the time, instead following Yewdore to whatever table he chose.
The elderly hare smiled when he found Allen and another Hare at a table, two seats already pulled out. Yewdore sat down next to them, Eulalia quickly doing the same. The other hare, who was even older than Yewdore, grinned. “Y’got a little gel, Yewdore? Looks a bit odd, I say.”
“Don’t say that in front of ‘er, Shermy,” was Yewdore’s response. He leaned over to him, whispering loud enough for Eulalia to hear. “She may whack ya.”
Allen erupted into laughter, spilling a bit of his beverage. “Good show, I say! Anyhoo, I recommend tryin’ the Buttercup Beer. Ain’t nothin’ better than it!” He motioned his cup towards Yewdore, who nodded approvingly. Eulalia wrinkled her nose at the sickly sweet scent.
“Have y’ever tried that ‘Tober Ale the Youngn’s be sippin’?” Asked Shermy, his voice tinged with disgust. “I’ve definitely tried it. Me ol’ lad, Horrace, told me to have a bit.” He pointed to a separate table, three meters away from Eulalia’s seat. Young Hares sipped foaming tankards, some probably drunk from the stuff. “Silly Lads, I say.”
Allen decided to change the subject. “Y’hear about the massacre of the Eighteenth regiment? Brings chills down me spine.”
Eulalia was suddenly interested in the subject. She had heard little about the war between the hares, and she yearned for information. Yewdore sighed sadly, shaking his head slowly. “Aye. Awful thing. May fate be kind to the rest of the lads. Tis a death wish, war.”
“Wot I told Horrace! Bally Blighter ignored me!” Answered Shermy, Drinking his Beer angrily.
Finally, Yewdore and Eulalia’s drinks arrived. The Badger Maid eagerly reached for her apple cider, feeling giddy already. Yewdore swigged a bit of the Buttercup beer, nodding. “That North King...He seems more powerful than ever, don’t ya think? Somethin’ bout red eyes, I hear.”
“Tis the Bloodwrath!” Whispered Allen, his eyes wide. “Beast who possess it has the strength o’ten hundred winters! Eyes red as the blood o’ ten hundred hares!” He pointed to his eye, a sudden silence hanging over the table. Eulalia felt a chill run up her spine, remembering what the dying hare said.
“The King’s...Eyes….Red as….Red as Blood...his eyes….”
Shermy shrugged nonchalantly. “Name’s Peregrin, I believe. Best not to run into the bulk, I say. Th’ monster can stay in his winter wonderland, if he’d like, wot!...How long have we been fightin’? I forgot meself…”
“I believe...Nine seasons ago? Winter o’ the Hare’s fur, I believe it was.”
Allen nodded sagely. “Good memory, Ol’ sport. Bloody war we’re fightin’.”
After a while, the conversation strayed to other topics Eulalia didn’t understand...Shrew Tribe...Tree Flyer Drey...Holt Ranpike...The Badger Maid drained her cup of cider rather quickly, instead choosing to hide some candied chestnuts in the pockets of her apron. After Allen and Yewdore finished drinking, the two hares stood up.
Yewdore yawned. “Well, twas nice havin’ a drink an’ such. Good day!” He called, dragging his Foster Daughter behind him; a trail of candied chestnuts being formed as well.
Allen also said his farewells, saying he had to go to his wife and children. Shermy nodded lazily, guzzling the last of his beer. His eyes widened at the sight of the beer flagons on the table.
“How will I ever be able to drink this all?”
Meanwhile, a waitress threw a small parchment onto the table. Shermy quickly grabbed it, reading the crumpled paper with shaking paws.
“How will I ever be able to pay this all?!”
Chapter 3
In the Lands of the North, Winter had already begun to grasp the landscape, her chilling breath blowing the leaves and branches of trees to and fro. Ice had just begun forming at the mouth of streams and lakes, while Winter’s lulling fingers sprinkled snowflakes ever so slowly. Though the landscape seemed barren, and didn’t seem to harvest life, a strange blue line was visible, slowly making it’s way across the horizon.
The Wolf Company swiftly made their way through the familiar terrain; it was home for them, at least. Each Snowflake was nostalgic, the sharp, cold scent familiar to them as a newborn to the scent of his mother. The Company was primarily made of hares, although some vermin were also able to be seen. Each one donning a blue and silver uniform, they marched in three single file lines, chests wide with pride, all singing in unison, their voices echoing through the bleak landscape.
Northern Blood runs swift and deep
Battles to fight Before I sleep.
Although my blood is strewn with pride
The Great North King is by my side
Hark the River and Hark the Snow,
Together we march, Together we go
We fight through night, we fight through day
Our Battered courage shall not ever fray
Iron Life and Iron Death
Lady fate don’t take my breath
My little lad my Little Lass
Aren’t waiting for a bloodied cutlass
Hark the River and Hark the Snow,
Together we march, Together we go
We fight through night, we fight through day
Our Battered courage shall not ever fray!
~*~*~
The Hare’s eyes scanned the near frozen river which opposed him. Although it was narrow and shallow, he didn’t like how it looked. The River had a casing of thin ice; much too risky. Some Beast could drown, if they were stupid enough. However, the Hare cared for his soldiers as if they were family. He couldn’t risk a single beast’s life. Life was far too precious.
He thought of his own family. Though his wife had passed seasons ago, his little daughter remained. ‘Nay’, he thought. ‘I can’t let fate take me yet.’ There was so much more to be done. And this war…Though he was rather large for a hare, and had fought many battles, the idea of bloodshed coming near his homeland shot fear into his mind.
“Lord Peregrin!” Rang a loud, deep voice. The Hare slowly turned his head, to see who his speaker was. It was a large, burly stoat, donning a captain’s uniform, and a lethal looking battle-axe. The Hare allowed himself to smile at the sight of his old friend, before listening to what he had to say.
“...Did I interrupt you by any chance?” Asked the stoat, worry audible in his voice.
Peregrin shook his head. “No Cor. I was just thinking of home. Please continue.”
“Alright. Well…” Cor Began, his voice suddenly weak, “...I just wanted to comment on the...attack a few days ago…” The Stoat captain looked over at his King, who simply nodded. He continued. “Are you feelin’ alright? The Bloodwrath started to kick in, and I was worried for ya, y’know...Just wanted to check.”
“I’m quite fine, thank you, Cor.” Was the King’s answer. He even smiled at his friend. “Fear not; once at home, I’ll have time to fully recover.”
Cor nodded, satisfied to know that his king was alright. After saluting, he walked over to a fox and a hare, who were fooling around with some knives, and scolded them harshly.
Peregrin sighed, drifting back to reality. He hadn’t intended his bloodwrath to take control over him, but alas, it had. He couldn’t let anyone see him like that. Especially not his daughter…
He shook his head. Good riddance anyway! Those southern scum deserved what they got, trying to take over his Northern domain. Justice is what they got. Pure, Divine Justice.
A middle aged hare soldier trotted towards Peregrin, placing a bony paw on his shoulder. “Calm y’self, King! Sit down, drink a bit of brae wine, sing a tune! Don’t jus stan’ there by y’self, now!”
The Hare King nodded, finding himself in reality at last. “Aye, sorry ‘bout that. Save me a bit o’Elderberry Wine, Turnket!”
~*~*~
“Brulda, Brulda! Papa’s commin’ ‘ome!”
The eager voice echoed, bouncing off the bleak, stone walls. The room was empty; devoid of much decoration, other than a desk, a chair, and bookshelves. The only know occupancy of the room was an old harewife, along with two female dibbuns; a hare and a stoat.
The Harewife nodded, her face scrunched up into a crinkled smile. “Yes yes, Johanna. King Peregrin is at last commin’ back. Hope he didn’t get into much battles; tis a dreadful thing; war.”
The little haremaid ran up next to her playmate, a stoatmaid. The Stoatmaid raised a paw, her face also sprawled into a wide grin.
“Isa my papa commin’ too?”
Brulda rolled her eyes, starting to dust a shelf of old documents and volumes. “Yes yes, Haze. Cor is commin’ too. Now shoo! Shoo! Play somewhere else! I must finish my dusting!”
The two maids giggled to themselves, before relieving Brulda of their presences. The harewife shook her head. “Children these days…”
“Let’s go to’the throne room! I’ll be da princess, and you can be the Queen!”
“Aww, Haze! Why do you always gotta be da princess?”
“Cuz Yore really a princess, Johanna!” Before Johanna could argue about the game, Haze ran right past her, already sticking her tongue out. Huffing, the little haremaid sprinted next to the stoatmaid, eager to show her friend that she was just as good as her. The two restless friends sped off towards the throne room, like two bright comets, in their gloomy night sky.
~*~*~
“Didja hear ‘bout the battle?”
“Eh? Battle at the Northern River Crossin’?”
“E’yup. Twas a big victory, I hear.”
“I can’t wait until his lordship arrives! I ‘ope there's some sorta feast, y’know!”
“Gosh darn it! I’m ‘ungry now!”
“Howhah! Me two, Matey!”
The two dibbuns were unaccustomed to the loud din audible in the throne room. Both Haze and Johanna were used to the somber silence, occasionally cut by Brulda’s scolding. However, this time, Hares young and old had gathered to welcome the Wolf Company from it’s long journey. Mostly the nobles gathered; little to no peasants were to be seen.
“I can’t see anythin’!” Protested Haze, jumping up and down.
“Mebbe ‘cause your a shortie!” Replied Johanna, with a slight giggle.
“Shuddup! -Wait, i think they commin’!” The Stoatmaid grabbed johanna’s paws, Both of them darting up the stairs from which they came up from, looking over the railing in order to get a better view.
Suddenly, the deafening roar of trumpets filled the hollow chatter in the throne room. Immediately, the hares which occupied the space seperated into two parallel lines, their backs stiff and straight. The two dibbuns who spectated from their safe viewpoint where curious to see what was going on.
“Johanna, I think they’re commin’!”
The hairmaid nodded enthusiastically. “Aye!...Look ‘ere!” She pointed down, her eyes sparkling. “They’re commin’! They’re commin’!”
Almost immediately, strode in two creatures; a hare, and a stoat, they’re capes fluttering behind them like flags. The silence was heavy in the room; not one soul daring to break it. Lord Peregrin at last defied it, his voice bouncing off the stone walls.
“Victory for the Highlands!”
The crowd echoed his words with pride.
“Victory for the Highlands!”
“My people,” The King began, facing the crowd. “The war has taken turn; Fate looks fondly upon us today! The Wolf Company had once again proven itself, against the Southerners!” This was met with a loud cheer from the crowd; who were at once proud of their northern heritage.
King Peregrin was not done, however.
“Though we pride ourselves for this victory, we must not forget the words our Fathers have told us. Alas, we have not come to win battles; we have come to win wars! Have you forgotten the words of the great king, my father, Old Lord Gyreth? Has he not shown you that we must not concern ourselves with such small manners? For Old Lord Gyreth’s troubles, we have named this Country the Northland, after your father's, yourselves, and your sons.” He raised his voice, escalating from a call to a shout.
“We must stride into battle, with our Northern heads fastened onto our Northern Shoulders, as our Fathers have done! As our sons shall do! We clash our Northern steel, strewn with Northern Pride! For this reason, we must not feel shame! We must never feel shame; we are the bringers of justice! And for that….” Lord Peregrin paused for a bit, his eyes sweeping the awe-struck crowd.
“Our Fathers, yourselves, and your sons fight with Northern Steel!”
The assembly erupted into joyous thanks. Peregrin raised his long greatsword, a beautiful thing; fashioned from cold steel. Cor also raised his weapon of choice; a long sword. Together, along with every single hare in the room, shouted the time-honored war cry.
“To the Dark Forest!”
~*~*~
After giving the speech, Peregrin could feel his eyelids drooping. His sleepless nights have come to haunt him once more. Shaking his head, he turned his head over to his companion; Cor. The Stoat was munching on an apple, oblivious to sleep. Peregrin tapped Cor’s shoulder, feeling a need to speak with another beast, in order to escape the embrace of rest.
“Cor-”
Wumph!
“Hehe! Gotcha, Pops!”
Cor had a puzzled expression, as he glanced at the lump on his leg. However, his eyebrows raised when he found the identity of the lump.
“So y’did, Haze m’dear!” He roared, messing up his daughter’s head fur.
The little stoatmaid’s smile widened. “Didja miss me? Huh? Huh? Was there alotta blood? Didha bring me backa hawk skull? Didja miss me? Didja bring me a ruby dagger? Didja miss me?”
“Alright, Alright, lassie! One question at a time!” Grabbing his daughter’s paw, he allowed himself to be led of to wherever his daughter desired. A grin creeped up on Peregrin’s face, watching the silly sight...Now that he thought about it; he had to welcome his daughter as well.
Roaming the halls, the King at last made it to his study. The familiar scent of old parchments and ink welcomed him like a forgotten friend as he opened the door.
“Welcome home, Lord-”
“Hiyaaaaaaa!”
Brulda quickly cuffed the little haremaid, her face blushing in embarrassment. However, the king didn’t seem to notice this, instead bending down to his daughter’s height.
“Good Afternoon, Johanna. Did you behave when I was gone?” Johanna nodded proudly, her eyes sparkling. “Aye! I wassa th’best at behavin’!”
“Incorrect, sire! The rogue stole two whole baskets of apple and pears, along with her little friend! She then proceeded to draw on the world map!” This time, it was Johanna’s turn to blush.
“Johanna, is this true?” was the King’s only reply.
The haremaid shuffled her foot paws, glancing down. “Um..um...mebbe?”
An awkward silence held the pieces of the room together. Not one soul spoke; Johanna too scared, Brulda too reserved, and the King having nothing to say.
‘Lord Peregrin!” Shouted a noble from outside the room. The king rose; attending to, perhaps, a more urgent matter.
“You can tell me about this later, alright, my dear?”
Johanna nodded miserably, Brulda only shaking her head in disappointment.
“Y’see, back in my day, babes like you actually had mannerisms, y’know? T’sa shame, I say! T’sa shame a lovely lass like you’s gotta be so…”
“Spunky?” Johanna suggested, shrinking back a bit.
“Hm, Spunky. I like it. It’s, it’s got a lot of spunk! Yes, I like it!”
~*~*~
Today was a special day, in the eyes of Tolv Arrowspur, chieftain of the powerful Arrowspur clan. At last, the hog clan was receiving the recognition they deserved; an alliance! Not just any alliance, but an alliance with the great Northern Hare Kingdom!
Acca Arrowspur, Tolv’s wife, reached over to her husband, her voice dripping with it’s usual impatience.
“‘Ey, is that Hare commin’ or not?!”
Tolv chuckled. “Patience, m’dear.”
At that moment, the king opened the assembly door, his armor and cape still on. Without saying a word, he joined the assembly, made up of his own Generals and Nobles, along with the Arrowspur clan. A maid quickly set a beaker of mint tea, and a few apple scones. “Let’s make this quick and painless. How many of you are there, and your current location?” Asked Peregrin solemnly, his paws folded.
Tolv smiled good naturedly, tasting a scone experimentally. “Us Arrowspurs...Hm...I’d say around a good ‘hundred, in total. We’re mainly rovers, our villages change from time to time. Currently, we’re staying near the entrance to th’forest.”
“‘undred ain’t much, though…” Muttered a noble. He was immediately silenced by the king’s cold glare.
“A Hundred is a nice amount...Though how many women and children? I don’t expect them to fight, of course.”
“Us Arrowspurs be warriors!” Bellowed Acca, brandishing her tomahawk. “Females fight as well as males, children learn to fight at young age! We all warriors!” This response was met with a cheer from the other Hedgehogs which were present.
“Hoy! Silence there!” Shouted Tolv, returning to his calm demeanor. “What my wife is trying to say, is that both men and women fight alongside each other. We have around twenty young’ns, however.
Stroking his chin, The King raised an eyebrow. “Hmph, I see. However, I know not how your loyalties lie…”
Another hare among the crowd continued. “I agree. What proof d’you have that you’ll stay true to us?”
Tolv winked at the hares, his old mind formulating some type of idea. “Say this; we make a surprise attack on the southerners. Your highness’ll come as well, of course. If we do well, you can still test our loyalty. If we don’t see fit, well, y’can have me head to mount on y’pedestal.”
King Peregrin narrowed his eyes. These hedgehogs had something up his sleeve, he knew it. However, He knew that soon enough, these Arrowspurs would be the pawns in his intricate game of war. He smiled.
“Hm...Sounds, Favorable.”
However, if it makes it all the way across the board, a pawn can turn into a king...
Chapter 4
Dolph awoke to the strained noise of bickering early in the day. He groaned, tossing to the other side of his cot, trying to escape the deafening voice in vain. However, this was of no avail; when Fran and Janine argued, there was no stopping the haremaids.
Sleep; the one stranger Dolph allowed to enter. It comforted him in his darkest moments, and healed all his wounds. However, as much as he wanted to drift into the lazy bliss, he couldn’t help but overhear bits and pieces of the argument.
“....You're Wrong….”
“Mother…...Father….”
“.....No!.....Father…..”
“.....The War…..General Balthor…..The Northlands….”
“.....Father?! Why….Battle…..”
Immediately, Dolph shot up from his cot, worry coated on his eyes, as he called out hoarsely, “What about Father?!”
The two haremaids swivelled their heads, eyeing their younger brother. Fran sighed. “Nothin’, Dolph. None o’ya beeswax. Go to sleep.”
“No!” He cried out indignantly. “No! What’s happenin’!”
“Shuddup!” Whispered Janine frantically. “Mother an’ Father might overhear! Shhh! Y’loud mouths, don’t you have an sense left in y’brain, eh, eh?”
Dolph wasn’t impressed with this show of power. So what if his sisters had authority of him. “Tell me! I wone take no as an’ ansah! Tell me now!” He interrupted impatiently.
“No! I don’t want to!”
“C’mon! Just Tell me!” To this, Fran sighed. He brother was becomming“Courage, my star.” annoying; what a pest.
“Fine, blabbermouth. But don’t tell no-un!”
Dolph grinned ear to ear. He knew he won. If there was anything satisfactory to the male hare babe, it was the feeling of victory.
“Alright. Lissen up, Shrimp,” Disclosed Fran. “Y’know how that massacre happened a few days ago? Well, turns out a lotta hares died. A lotta hares. Not a lot of hares. A lotta hares. Anyhoo, due to the loss of all those ‘uns, t’sonly reasonable that some other replace ‘em, y’know.”
Dolph nodded slowly, wide eyed, as he continued listening.
“As I was sayin’, the council o’ th’Southern Hares decided to force to hares to join the thing. Word is, is that the North be gainin’ allies, Dartspikes, I think they were called. Closest to allies we have, is Holt Ranpike, an’ th’Shrew Village-”
“Wait Wait! Wos’the council?!” Shouted Janine, her mind boggled. Fran narrowed her eyes at the harebabe, as she shushed her.
“Shhhh! Well, I guess you don’t know; Ain’t much word o’the gatherin’s. Southern Country is divided into four places, usn’s be on the lower right, y’know. Each section’s got a representative, to represent us at th’council. Our representative is Ezra Woodsorrel. Hares got a good heart, missin’ a bit of brains though.”
“Anyway, like I was sayin’, Ezra’s been given up too little hares t’the army, so th’rest o’the council is pressin’ ‘im to hand over some more hares….Hares all over our place ‘ave been taken…’ave been trainin’...Mother and Father are worried that Father’ll be taken away…” Fran suddenly stopped talking, the feeling of despair thick in the room.
Dolph shook his head. “Noh, Noh! Shuddup! Papa isn goin’ no-wher! Okie, Okie?! Ee’s stayin!” The harebabe calmed down a bit, before continuing. “T’day’s th;big day! Imma gonna train! Beat dat Stripe dog!”
Stalking away miserably, Dolph felt a tear trickled down his cheek…
Why, of all hares? Why his Father?
~*~*~
The crowd gathered along the field was tense, yet alive with the spirit of good village beasts. Tents and stalls have been built; harewives occupying them, trying to sell others their food or threadwork. On the other side, the shouting of old Marmel the Rabbit could be heard, as she screamed at a miserable costumer.
“How dare ya bargain with me? Didja Bargain with ya mum?! Didja bargain with ya grandmum?!”
“No...But-”
“Didja bargain with ya aunt? Didja bargain with ya sis? Didja bargain with ya wife?!” “I’m not even mar-”
“Didja bargain with ya gel?! No! No! S’don’t bargain with me, y’bloody snot filled cross eyed filthy swine excuse for a rabbit! Now get out my sight, y’crack headed indespicable hitch hiker!”
Eulalia looked confidently around the battleground; at least, it was a battleground to the young badger babe. The echos of Marmel’s cry where very reminiscent, a few folks laughing still. However, she had no time for such foolishness. No; today was a big day. Today, of all days; today, she would triumph! She would show that blasted Dolph what she was made of!
“...Now remember, Eulalia. It’s alright to lose. Please don’t humiliate Dolph again, please. Y’don’t know how angry Lalor gets….Blast that hare wife...Anyway, I’m not giving you any luck. You're an utter disgrace. In fact, I don’t even know why you're doin’ this! I thought y’was a gel?”
“It’s my revenge!”
Sussana gave Eulalia a sharp cuff. “Revenge my behind! Your goin’ straight to y’room, y’here, missie?!”
The badgermaid nodded, her heart pounding. “Aye...Ooooh, Look! The doofus is commin’!”
However, the babe which entered was not the arrogant Dolph Eulalia loved to hate; it was a slouching, red eyed doppelganger of the harebabe, a melancholy twin, perhaps. However, the same hate driven glare which he pointed to the badger, was identical to Dolph’s. Eulalia stuck her tongue out, as she heard a loud noise call her attention.
Smash!
All eyes turned to face a plump harewife, standing on a wooden platform, holding a ladle and pan. Her face creased into a smile, as her voice projected through the open air.
“Greetings, young’ns an’ elders! As y’know, t’day is our harvest festival! Let’s begin, shall we?” She cleared her throat, and then proceded to open a scroll.
“First, we have the youngster’s events. First, the race, o’course. Then the three legged race, th’archery contest, th’tree climbin’ contest, th’rope tuggin’ contest. We got th’bigg’un part as well. We ‘ave a pie contest, a vege’ble contest, a drinking contest…”
Some of the older hares laughed, obviously excited.
“...an’ the eating event! Now, Racers! Gather next to the platform!”
A mass of babes and dibbuns came running forth, including Dolph and Eulalia. Spitting on her paws, the badgermaid rubbed them together, preparing herself for the event. After all these days of preparation...after all her training...now was the time to prove herself. She glanced over at her adversary, a smug look on her face.
The Harebabe’s expression was dark; like a miserable storm cload. Knitting his brows, he made his way to the starting line. He tried to think about the race; His training, Marmel’s Pie, Eulalia’s defeat...But the looming thought that his father would be leaving him, forever, came flooding back.
However, there was little to no time left for thinking. Dolph strode over to the starting line, his chin held up high. In the distance, he could hear the cheering of his sisters.
“Go Dolph! Go Dolph! Y’can do it!”
“Keep a stiff upper lip, m’lord!”
“...Excuse me?”
“I said ‘Keep a stiff upper lip, m’lord!’”
The Harebabe ignored the cheering; instead choosing to stick his tounge out at Eulalia.
The Badgermaid did so as well.
The loud, clear voice of the plump harewife filled the air, as she was about to begin the race. Harebabes formed a straigt line, standing right behind the starting line. Eulalia could hear her heart hammer in her chest. Today was the day…
“On your marks….”
Dolph bit his lip. The race...The race...He had to win this race! If he didn’t, he would be humiliated. His father...what would his father think about him…
“Get set…”
The last of the harebabes stopped squirming. For a moment, the air was peaceful, calm, trainquil. However, a cold gust of wind hit Eulalia from the side, making the Badgermaid flinch.
“Go-”
“Halt!”
Everybeast swivelled their heads to see who had spoken out of turn. Harewives began to shake, harebabes began to bawl, while elders shook their heads sadly at the melancholy omen. Dolph gasped, tears threatening to spill.
The scrawny, malnourished looking hare grasped at a piece of barkcloth parchment. His legs were shaking; he had little to no clothing to shield himself from the unforgiving winds.
A young hare screamed out from the crowd, her cry of despair heart-wrenching.
“No! No! Not my son! Please!”
‘What’s going on?’ thought Eulalia, her mind puzzled. Why was everybeast so sad? Her mind couldn’t comprehend what was going on; the Hare wife, Dolph’s actions…
The Dying soldier…
Shivering wildly, the hare messenger raised his parchment high, his voice booming. It was he would had to deliver the news.
“Hares of the Western Forest Village!” He began. The Field was silent as a dead beast as he spoke. “By Command of Ezra Woodsorrel, all Male beasts above the age of thirteen seasons listed; You are to enlist in the Southern Hare Army; you are to come with me immediately! Is this clear?”
Eulalia winced at the silence; the silence as cold as the skin of a dead beast. It reminded her of the dying soldier. How silent the house was after he died. For some strange reasons, her heart suddenly felt like it was about to burst.
The Messenger then called out the names of all the eligible hares; each name met with either a sob or a scream. Sussana and Yewdore let out a sigh of relief, after Yewdore’s name had passed.
However; one such beast wasn’t as lucky.
“Allen Frax Aurbernt!”
“No!” Screamed Dolph, Tears flying from his face. “No! Don’t take my Papa! No!” He fell down to his knees, the salty water streaming down like waterfalls. Each sob the harebabe let out tore at his heart and soul; each tear burned and scarred his delicate features. Each hoarse cry hit him like the howling winds of the North.
“Father!..P..Please!”
Allen turned his head to face his son. His smile was like a candle; warm and comforting. Dolph’s cry waned down, but the tears just wouldn’t stop. Stooping down, Allen embraced his son; for possibly the last time. He comforted his son, as he did so many times in the past. He bandaged his wounds; but this wound he could never repair.
The Father gave his star a gift.
“Courage, my star.”
And then he left, bidding his wife and daughters farewell.
~*~*~
“Courage, my star.”
Those words was the child’s one comfort, in his dark realm. Even the hiding sun couldn’t comfort Dolph. No one can comfort a child like a father…
“I just can’t stop crying...no matter how much I try…”
The leveret finally allowed the lump in his throat to rise; causing more tears to flow. Courage, how could he ever face it, if he was always crying? Had his father’s words gone to waste?
That smile; the candle smile. Dolph remembered it.
He wish he could’ve seen it once more.
Creak!
“Hello, anybeast home?”
A figure shifted in the darkness; unaccustomed to the interior. A few crashing noises were heard, as the beast attempted to make it’s way around. Inferring it was his sister or mother, Dolph didn’t move a muscle; overcome with grief.
“...I’m sorry Dolph…”
The Harebabe looked up, his eyes shiny with not only tears, but surprise. His heart wrenched when he realized the identity of the guest.
“Eulalia?”
The Badgermaid didn’t reply, her eyes clouded with a linked emotion. Making her way silently, she sat next to Dolph. A rival may be a rival. But a rival is also a beast. Finally, Eulalia managed to grasp the words she intended to say.
“...I’m sorry Dolph…”
Dolph wiped a threatening tear with his paw, his voice shaking. “How d’you know? Y’got a mum an papa…”
Eulalia closed her brown eyes. “Aye...but They aren’t me real mum an’ papa...Sussana tells me I was...left to….” Eulalia couldn’t bare to think of civilization's greatest fear.
“So y’don have a papa?”
“...no…”
“...I don’ ‘ave a papa too…”
Eulalia held her friend’s paw, as the two babes cried and spoke. They spoke of family. They spoke of love.
They spoke of friendship.
From that day on, Eulalia and Dolph became the best of friends.
Chapter 5
The blissful singing of a nearby creek, along with the sweet and clear trill of birdsong, all contributed to the serene spring backset. Impatient, spring had thrust itself into the land; evident by the lush blooming of plant life. Flowers threw back their petals, each trying to outdo the other, while Trees nursed young fruit. Grasses ticked the footpaws of travelers, and even dull stones seemed to enjoy the unexpected warmth.
Eleven years had passed, like autumn leaves, like snowstorms, like insects, like flower petals. The Babes have grown, the elders have departed, while others still hung onto life greedily. The West Forest Village had suffered through last year’s brutal spring, and relished the warmth they had received just now. Hares, young and old, stooped down in order to plant the seeds, which would bear food in the next oncoming seasons.
A grizzled hare wife wiped her brow with a dotted handkerchief, her paws clutching a small basket full of seeds. Her eyes swept over the landscape of workers, searching for that one individual.
“Eulalia? Where are you?”
“Commin’!”
The badgermaid came running toward her guardian, a two small pouches held in both her paws. Sussana smiled at the image of her adopted daughter; it seemed just like yesterday that Eulalia was a dibbun. However, time had molded her into a proper and exceptional young maiden.
At last the badgermaid had reached her foster mother, panting heavily. She handed one of the small pouches over to her, shaking her head in disbelief.
“You wouldn’t believe it! I couldn’t find the winter squash seeds; y’now! Then Yewdore came, an’ told me he gave it t’Marmel, th’old coot. Anyways, she told me she gave them to Lalor! So then I made it over to Dolph’s place, talked to good ‘ol Lalor. She lost the seed! An’ then, I ‘ad to dig through the cupboard. You won’t believe how crammed that cupboard was!”
At this point, Sussana had to crack a smile at the antics of her daughter.
“...And then finally, I found’em! Hidden by some leverets in some tall grasses!” After concluding her tale, the Badgermaid watched proudly as her foster mother examined the seeds. She couldn’t help but feel a bit of smugness; after all that work she did.
“Y’did a lot of work, I can say that…” The Harewife sighed before continuing. “But there’s one problem….”
Eulalia’s eyes widened in horror. “This ain’t winter squash...It’s summer squash…”
Eulalia burst into a fit of rage inside; biting her lip in annoyance. However, she tried her best to hide it, instead reaching for the pouch of summer squash. “Let me put ‘em back, an’ get the winter-”
“Now, now, Eulalia,” Clucked Sussana disapprovingly, “I can still jolly well plant ‘em, but bring back the winter squash, now, wont’cha?”
Eulalia groaned, her response laced with annoyance. “Fine.” She then left the toiling harewife, chiding herself silently.
Another harewife next to Sussana chucked. “Y’make your gel work to much, wot!”
Sussana rolled her eyes. “That way, she won’t end up like your gel!”
~*~*~
“So tell me, Shermy. What’s your opinion on the Alliance?”
The elderly hare raised an eyebrow, sipping a bit of elderberry wine before continuing. “Hm, ‘Olt Ranpike? Don’t have much concern, t’be fair. Their h’otters; good warriors, doncha know.”
Yewdore nodded, reading a scrap of parchment, which announced the news. Leaning back on his chair, his eyes skimmed the paper, seeing if there was any other piece of information he missed.
“Moles, mice, an’squirrels aren’t commin’, though…” Shermy laughed at his friend’s expression of worry.
“Bah! Squirrels are savages, moles just don’t like talkin’, an’ mice got their own settlement. Arrogant wenches; y’know what they said?”
“No, Shermy. I don’t.”
“When Balthor asked if they would like an’ alliance, they-” The Elderly hare cut himself off, noticing Yewdore’s sudden reminiscence. He poured some more wine for himself, letting the silence in Yewdore’s household to linger even longer.
Bam!
Eulalia stood at the doorway like a massive oak, her face twisted into some unholy image. However, her voice was perfectly calm as she spoke.
“Hello there, gentlemen. Please tell me, have you seen the Winter Squash seeds by any chance?”
Shermy laughed out loud. “Lalie, y’already took it!” Eulalia looked puzzled, until Yewdore explained gently.
“Marmel had it, didn’t she? You thought it was summer squash, but you took it anyway, at least, that’s what I heard. “ He smiled with amusement, remembering the shouting of his foster daughter.
Eulalia’s eyes widened, as if she was about to be dealt with by reality once more.
“So you mean...I left it at Lalor’s?”
Both hares nodded solemnly. However, their serious demeanor was instantly broken, as Eulalia fled the scene.
Yewdore shook his head. “That daughter of mine….”
However, Shermy took no notice of the comment, instead continuing what he had said earlier.
“...So y’know ‘ow the mice primarily live in Noonvale, right? Well, Balthor...I can say his name, right?”
Yewdore nodded, drinking his wine slowly.
“Anyway, Balthor asked if the mice would help ‘im. Y’know what they said?! No! Straight off no! Said they wouldn’t busy themselves’ with Hare-like matters! The Blighters! The Rooks! The Cross eyed snot filled excuse of a rat!”
“Wherever did you hear that?” Asked Yewdore, taken aback by Shermy’s language.
“I think I ‘eard it from Marmel or somethin’. Well, Closest Drey we ‘ave near is Tree Flyers. Don’t know what t’think. Their leader isn’t to keen on workin’ with ‘ares, and rumor is that Moles are startin’ to join the Northerners.”
“Aye,” Added Yewdore, folding his paws, “But I think the ‘olt is good enough, doncha know? They’re h’otters! Strong sea dogs. Specially their leader…”
Shermy nodded. “Aye. Huge hound, that ‘un. But don’t dismiss those hogs. Tough un’s. Prove deadly in battle; their quills…” Shermy stopped mid sentence, suddenly overcome by greif.
“Horace…” Yewdore whispered. Shermy nodded glumly. The two hares shared the second moment of silence that day. ~*~*~ ‘I can’t believe I messed up!”
This sentence was played on repeat in Eulalia’s brain. She was disappointed with herself; to think she mixed up summer and winter squash! Would she ever prove herself to Sussana? That she wasn’t a nuisance; that she could handle herself.
Jogging over to her destination, Eulalia made it to the household of Lalor. She remembered the house from her childhood; big house, bigger than hers, with a flowers planted alongside as well. However, the old cottage had lost it’s cheer over the past few years; the atmosphere abruptly transforming into a depressing cousin.
A tall, lanky male hare strode over to Eulalia, his face smug with satisfaction. “Did you just so happen to forget a little something; Eulalia?”
The Badgermaid was in shock. “The Squash seeds? Where where they?”
“Truth be told; These aren’t your old seeds. Mother decided to give you a bit; she’s sorry for you, know?”
Eulalia gently took the small pouch, with the precious cargo inside. “Tell old Lalor thanks. Really, thank you. i wouldn’t be here, if it weren’t for you.” shook her friend’s paw, causing much Anguish, to Dolph, at least.
“Alright, Alright ol’ gel.” He coaxed, nursing his paw back to health. “Me ‘ol Mum’s workin’ on the big garden too, plus I ‘ave to help a bit.” He muttered that last bit, imagining himself in a worn out apron, scolding a badgermaid to get squash seeds.
The Badger snickered. “Anyway, care to join me?” Raising his chin considerably, taking in friend’s paw.
“But of course, Lady Eulalia.” And the two beasts walked together, pretending to be aristocrats and what not. As the two friends walked, they also spoke of various occurrences, obviously trying to avoid the topic of war.
“So tell me,” Began Eulalia,”How are your sisters?”
“Oh, Fran and Janine? Frans got a fellow, and Janine...Well Janine is just Janine. Tryin’ new things.”
The badgermaid snickered. “Never boring when Janine’s your sister, huh?”
Dolph shrugged. “She get’s in trouble a lot of the time, but It’s too be expected….Hey, what’s going over there?”
The two beasts looked over to where Dolph was pointing. Nevertheless, a crowd of hares gathered together. Curiosity apparent, the hare and badger both approached the crowd, trying to see what had captured their attention. As the two friends tried to catch a glimpse, a buzz of noise lingered.
“Hmph...Already?”
“Aye, One year earlier, I hear.”
“Blasted Woodsorrel! I swear, us Dillworthys should’ve become representatives!”
“It’d be th’bally same! Whoahahohahoha!”
At last, Eulalia managed to get a glimpse of what the big hullabaloo was all about, after a great deal of pushing and shoving. As she skimmed through the parchment, her eyes flared up.
“Eulalia! Eulalia! Get out there! Smph...Oh, sorry, sire. My bad...Eulalia! What’s goin’ on!”
However, the badgermaid ignored her friend’s urgent protests, instead glancing at the parchment once more, before squeezing out of the squirming body of hares. Brushing her apron, the badgermaid’s eyes gleamed as she disclosed her newfound knowledge.
“The council meetin’! It’s gettin’ held in three days!”
Dolph shook his head, wonderstruck. “Three days?! Good gracious, so soon? We ought to tell mother!”
The Badgermaid nodded in pure agreement.
~*~*~
The room was dark. Moss grew in large amounts on the stone walls, and little to no furniture decorated the room. large cracks crisscrossed the moist stone floor, and the air reeked of filth and disease. A small metal tray was tossed in the corner, abandoned and shunned, as the prisoner was. Huddled against the frigid stone walls, a pathetic figure lay.
The figure may have once been lovely, but malnourishment and back breaking labor tore at the creature’s build. Once healthy, the beast’s cheeks were hollow, yearning a meal, it’s eyes dull as it’s stone cage. It’s fur was grimy and thin, and in desperate need of a bath.
It’s eyes were fixed on the wooden door. If that door was ever opened, light would flood through, blinding the prisoner. However, what was life, when it was filled with torture such as this?
“Better to be blind, then stay in this rotten place.”
Light flooded the prisoner’s room just after saying those words. Wincing, the weasel wife narrowed her eyes, glaring at the huge hare before her. She knew what he wanted. The weasel wife spat at his feet, for it was he who imprisoned her.
The hare didn’t flinch in the slightest, keeping his stoic demeanor. The prisoner winced once more as she heard him speak; this was the first time she had heard such a loud voice in seasons.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we? Where were you, Nineteen seasons ago?”
The weasel wife spat once more. “Ha! As if I’ll tell you, Rabbit!”
The hare’s eyes narrowed, “Your family is dead; you're a disgrace to the kingdom; the least you could do is redeem yourself.”
“Why would I want to redeem myself? I’ve done nothing wrong!” Answered the prisoner, smiling smugly. “It was just a few babes; no more,no less. Why are you so concerned, your highness?” Her voice dripped with venom, obviously trying to annoy Peregrin.
However, the hare wasn’t hindered whatsoever. Instead, he leaned forward a bit, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“My dear, dear prisoner. What am I going to do with you?”