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Concolor the puma looked over his horde. He had come from the far south, so far that no one had ever been there. He had been sent away from his tribe, and ever since then he had been collecting an army of rats, stoats, and other such weaklings. He had light pants on him, and a bare chest. His mucsles defined him as very strong, stronger then even a badger. On his arm was a big E, which meant he was an Exiled. Strapped to his back was a longbow, and on his belt he had a crystal vial with something in it. He did not know it, but he was approaching Salamandastron, the Badger Mountain. Concolor was coming!
Ganro, the badger lord, sighed as he looked out his window. He was old, nearly bent double, and most hares had left the mountain. He had dark brown fur and white lines covering his fur, scars from long-ago battles. One of his ey sockets was empty, as though somebody had gored it out. His double-edged battleaxe, long-unused, hung on the wall from a hook. The blade was brown with corrsion. The badger lord sighed, remembering last winter. It had been a hard season.. Most young hares had died from various things, such as disease, starvation, or vermin. The few hares left were in no state to fight. He knew vermin were coming. Ganro could feel death in the air, smell rotting corpses, hear sounds of far-away battles, but even he, with his huge experience, had no idea how bad the wars soon to come would be.
Falod, a badger, hummed merrily as he tended to his garden. He was a strong, medium-aged badger with dark brown fur. A small birthmark was on one of his hands. A flame. Behind him was a cheerful looking cottage made of some kind of brick. His wife, Clara, had not survived through the winter, but she left him with a beatiful babe. Gorath. His parents, who had fought in great battles themselves, were currently fishing with the child. Suddenly, a lance whistled out of the shrubbery and pierced his rib, filling him with agony. He tumbled over, crying out loud in pain. A rat cautiosly approached him, followed by Concolor. "Check if he's dead, Ardet." Falod tensed his whole body, preparing to move. As the rat's shadow fell over him, he leaped up, grabbing the rat by the throat and hurling him at a tree. Years of hard farm work builded up his muscles, and the lance fueled his anger. There was a sickening thud as the rat smashed into the tree. The puma chuckled. "Look at that, we have a tough one here!" The badger roared and hit the puma in the face, catching him by surprise. "Arghh!" The badger ran, not daring to look back. He came to the ocean and yelled as loud as he could, "Go, Mum, Dad! There's trouble! Protect Gorath!" The little boat took off, and soon became nothing but a tiny dot. Falod turned around, and doubled over as an arrow peirced his stomach. He fell, blood falling from his body. Concolor walked up to him. "You will never-ah-never get hold of my son. My beatiful little son. Gorath." The puma spat in his face. "I don't need your stupid son, badger. You defied me, and now you pay for it. Goodbye." He turned and walked away. As the badger's eyes closed his thoughts were of the happy years of joy he spent with his wife, and the peacful little valley in which he lived in. Until now.