Posts by Ol'random

Ol'random · Logs

Pvt. Dominik,
Lt. Gregorian,
Sgt. Terrence,
Mjr. Varus,
And Cpl. Zolomon, hares.
Spoofs (by myself):
Pvt. Greenhill,
Pvt. Konner,
Pvt. Reuenthal
And three veteran trackers.

Once the Expedition had established camp after the first day out in the field...

The camp was quiet. They'd made limited success in clearly out more of the traps and the hares were getting better at spotting and avoiding them but now night had descended and aside from a couple of hares on watch duty the patrol was asleep. Greg was among them, in a tent on his own quietly dreaming the night away.

Having waited until nightfall to approach the camp, Erg had been hovering a close distance nearby for most of the morning and afternoon; the large hare had another skill that was likely unknown amongst the other patrollers, and that was the ability to camouflage himself. He'd been right there watching them the whole time, and not one of his comrades knew he was there. Upon waiting til he was sure most of the camp was asleep, the large yet silent hare quietly and carefully makes his way towards the first guard on duty. Approaching him from behind, he clamps a paw over his muzzle tightly before he has time to make a noise. Dragging him away into the woods, he hits that spot in his neck that immediately knocks him out. Pulling him away, he lets him slide down into a nearby pit. Pausing to make sure that he wasn't seen, Erg then slips over towards the other guard on duty. He receives the same treatment, being deposited in the same pit as his associate. Once that is taken care of, Erg approaches the first tent. There is a somewhat mischievous grin upon his muzzle, as he ducks his head and slips inside. He places a small toadskull which he withdraws from his satchel right near the head of the hare sleeping inside, before slipping right back out of the tent, and he approaches the next one...

With the guards dispatched with the camp was defenseless to the mysterious skull leaving shadow. A number of the hares were sharing tents but as none awake so far perhaps that makes it easier to ensure everyone gets a creepy gift. Only a few of the officers and perhaps the healer gets their own tents. Greg carried his tent specially to ensure he'd get his own. He was not much of a morning beast. Nor was he much of a woken in the middle of the night sort of beast. He doesn't instantly wake when Dom's moving around his whiskers do twitch when there's movement around his own tent.

Dominik is as careful as he can possibly be, doing his best to not wake anyone. It was likely also something he'd been trained in, and the fact that he is so large yet can still move around as quietly as he does is actually rather impressive. Slipping into the second tent, he repeats his actions from the first tent, leaving a small, nicely polished toad-skull right near the sleeping hare's head. Emerging from the second tent, he then approaches Greg's tent. Peeking his head inside, he notices the older hare, recognizing him not only by face, but by the fact that he is missing a leg. He remains there at the entrance to the tent, the large hare staring at him silently for a moment or two. Greg's one of the Patrollers who treated him rather well during his time there, and a little tinge of regret is felt within his chest...but then is just as quickly gone. Removing another of the skulls (wow, how many of those does he have, exactly???), he carefully approaches Greg in an attempt to place it down near him.

Gregorian has training in many things but being a light sleeper was from a life of experience full from over enthusiastic privates waking his troop up when he was a recruit to years of patrolling and ambushes. His whiskers twitch...then his nose and an ear does when Dom enters the tent. He starts to frown but it's another couple of seconds before his blink blearily open and then snap on to Dom as he sees movement. There's a split second pause as his brain does the mental check that it's not his daughter before he snarls and suddenly sits up, going to try and knock the thing Dom's holding, the skull, out of his paws as he reaches for Dom's chest with his other paw, looking for something to grab. He's not entirely awake yet. At least not enough to recognize the hare in the dark. All his brain sees is a big looming shape carrying something that his mind assumes is a weapon and he lashes out.

Dominik is momentarily taken by surprise as Greg suddenly awakens, and the skull in his paw is struck and is sent flying across the tent only to land in the corner with a soft thud. Before he is able to slip out of the tent, his uniform is grabbed...luckily for Dom, the garment was most definitely on its last legs, and so as Greg tries to grab hold of him, there is a tearing noise as part of the garment comes off in his paw. His bruised nose gives a twitch, the face-painted beast glaring daggers down at Greg, baring his teeth with a snarl. As the older hare lashes out, Erg gets a good thwock right to his eye, and he yelps, seeing stars once again. Figuring no good will come of this if he stays, her turns, and the massive hare bolts for the tent exit.

Gregorian usually wakes up moody but taken by surprise in the dark he's working mostly on instinct. He drops the tunic once it's useless for keeping hold of the shape in the dark. He growls back and he scrambles up as Dom starts to run. It's a testament to how little Greg is thinking though as he ends up falling flat on his face the first step he takes because he doesn't have his leg on. He lands with a thud followed by some swearing. His brain finally starts to get out of the fight though as he remembers he why that foot's not there "Wake up yah fools! Where the hell are the guards?!" he shouts as he's dragging himself back on to his foot again.

Zolomon happens to be awake and looks out of the tent he is in just in time to see Dom run past, he takes a moment to think on what to do and decides to try and run after Dom, maybe trip him somehow or least slow him down!

On the far side of the camp, Terrence had not been able to sleep, having spent the past several hours tossing and turning in his tent. With a sigh he gropes in the dark for his spectacles, giving up on sleep for now. Perhaps some left over food or drink could be found, and he should at least check in on the guards to see if everything's gong over smoothly. Wrapping a cloak around him, he exits the tent and takes in a deep breath of fresh night air. That's when the yelp and Greg's yell rings out. "What in the world...?" Ears shooting straight up, he starts echoing what he recognizes as the lieutenant's voice. "W-Wake up! Guards!" He dearly hopes Greg isn't just yelling in his sleep starts slowly towards the older hare's tent to check on him, grabbing a hatchet from a nearby fire to be safe. "Sah? What's the mattah?"

Dominik manages to make it out of Greg's tent due to the older hare's lack of leg, and he swiftly weaves his way between the tents, his paws knocking over one here, his footpaw kicking another one there in an attempt to collapse them and also impede the progress of anyone who might be chasing him. Having memorized the location of his traps, Erg easily avoids them as he dodges and moves, throwing a hard shoulderblock at Zol as he gets in his way... and the dark-furred hare (he'd painted his fur black to hide the parts that had already changed to the white of his winter coat) slips back into the woods without a trace... likely leaving behind utter chaos in the camp, and leading more of the hares to fall victim to traps as they stumble about in the dark.

Gregorian has regained his footing by the time Terrence gets to him. "Some beast was in my tent!" he says with irritation as he hops a few steps, looking around but he just can't see where Dom went. He blinks though and turns back towards the camp as he hears screaming. First one hare, then another as a group of them scramble out of the tents in a commotion. "There's a toad in my bed!" one yells after the shock of waking up face to face with a skull. Greg looks grim and hops back towards his tent for his weapons only to pause and grab the ripped uniform from where it fell. He frowns and shows it back to the Sargent. "Dom."

Zolomon avoids being knocked out at least, but does stumbled backwards and just about falls into a pit. He gasps and manages to fall sideways right beside it and scoots away from it with a frown. He slowly stands and dusts off as he walks back to the camp, ever so slowly and using a stick he finds as a way to avoid traps, he yells out as a trap gets the stick and jumps backwards, a deep breath as he gets back to the camp and right away heads towards Greg.

Terrence had been turning to find the toads when the remains of the tunic of held out, and he stares. "I see." There's a pause as some more shrieks rip out in the night. "He might be responsible for all that too. Hopefully he's kept things nonlethal still..." Turning, he sees Zolomon. "Corporal, go check on the guards. With how long they've been tarrying either they're snoozing on the bloody job or Dom got to them." Without waiting to see if the order is obeyed he sets off to go check on the screams, a tired look in his eye and clad in his nightshirt and trousers under the cloak.

Gregorian hrms and nods to Terrence. He lets him and Zolomon check things out while he ducks back in to his tent putting on his belt with his hammers then his leg because priorities. He spots the toad head Dom was trying to plant in his tent in the process and tosses that outside with a look of disgust before he grabs his coat for at least some warmth before he goes to see what's going on.

Terrence had stopped by his own tent after finding out all the commotion about toads being in the camp were just skulls and bones. Once properly dressed for the weather, he makes his way over to the more frantic cries for help were several hares are trapped under their tent which had the supports unfastened - most likely Dom's paw-work. "Calm down, only making it more difficult for yourselves..." the sergeant mutters as he helps the others who'd been trying to free their fellows.

Zolomon was careful as he looked around and then he found the pit and looked down inside with a sigh, well there was the two missing guards, one of them waking up with a groan. "Hold on a moment thar." He gets some rope he has with him and finds a good place to make sure it doesn't slip into the hole and nods as one Private climbs out slowly, the other one is still a bit knocked out, "Ok let the Sarge and Lt know wot happen, I will catch up in a bit." He gets a salute, still gotta get use to those and the one private walks back to the camp.

Gregorian does not look happy as he approaches the group by Terrence through the camp, looking for more trouble on the way. He's quick to help once he gets there, pulling some of the weight of the tent off the hares to give them more room to escape "Wot the devil does Dom think he's playin' at?" he mutters irritably. He doesn't immediately spot the missing guard approaching but as soon as they make themselves known he gives them a deep frown.

One of the guards is nursing a rather sizable lump on his head, while the other seems to be mostly fine other than a few cuts and bruises. "Woke up in a pit, sah," one says, "Don't remember much else, wot. I was rubbin' my eyes to keep awake an' next I know I'm in a hole!" The other confirms the story, adding, "'Fore I could've made noise a big paw o'h arm squeezed th'air outta me, sah, an' I was sure convinced I was bloody done fo'h!"

Terrence had only been have paying attention to the reports, having been using a dagger to cut through the canvas to reach the last few hares stuck in the big tent. Once they're out, he only gives Greg a shrug. "Hell if I know wot, sah. Dom's been proving his rather mad in the head, if you know what I mean."

Zolomon frowns. "It was for sure Dom...just more, well....war like?" He isn't sure how to explain it really. "Maybe he is afraid to go back? Though... I wonder if there is a way to maybe trap him instead somehow".

Gregorian nods slowly to the guards and takes a deep breath as he tries to think and focus. "...Feels like he's tryin' tah drive us off. Trappin' him may be the best or only way tah get him in one place long enough tah talk some sense in tah him...Or get a net on him tah haul him home regardless."

"You're certainly welcome to try to trap Dom, Zolomon," Terrence snorts, "If you'd like." The sergeant is not in good humor, not now that his hope of a quiet and peaceful night was so swiftly dashed. "Either way, I doubt subduing him will be anything less than a monumental task, wot. The net might be best - that reminds me," He steps free of the canvas, looking at the corporal, "How far did you chase Dom? Do you remember were you lost him? No mattah how good he is at setting traps and the like I doubt he can shake off the patrol's trackers easily."
Zolomon thinks a moment and then answers "Maybe 1/2 a mile, little less. He about pushed me into a pit." He points the direction Dom ran in.

Gregorian grunts. "He's sneakin' about knockin' out guards and causin' trouble. I'd pay good money tah see him land in one of his own pits." he nods to the others. "Get the trackahs on it. Carefully. If they need the light tah avoid the traps we'll have tah give them the time. There's only so many traps he can of set out there tah slow us down." he says as he's heading back towards his tent to properly prepare for the day.

"Will do, sah. " Terrence responds, saluting as the lieutenant leaves. Looking up at the mostly cloudy sky above them, he sighs. "Judging by what I can see of the stars, there's at least several hours 'efore dawn and light, wot." The sergeant, waving for Zolomon to follow him, starts walking in the general direction the more experienced scouts barracks are, and finds several cleaning up a mess of toad skulls. "Right then, Dom caused all this mess, and he left tracks - the corporal here can tell you where." The three hares, waiting for the rest, are easily twice either Zolomon's or Terrence's age, long term veterans of the patrol even if they're still privates.

Zolomon walks over and nods, "Yes, tracks don't just go away that easily and Dom has large footpaws so should make em' easier to see." He points to the way Dom was last seen. "Just be careful as ya walk, still could be a trap somewhere, though maybe someone should go and disarm some traps best they can as well."

The three hares look unimpressed with both sergeant and corporal, and they're moving in the direction pointed out before Zolomon finishes. "Laddie," with one giving a wink the corporal as he goes, "If'n we can find a beast's tracks seasons aftah a beast made 'em we can find paw prints a big ol'are like Dom makes, wot." It seems that the old trackers aren't in a better mood than Terrence, having been woken up by all the noise and being greeted by a toad skull.

Terrence gives Zolomon a look too, though his expression is a bit harder to read. "Come on then, wot, should get more guards back on duty. Then the tents have to be sorted out..."

Zolomon nods. "Sounds good sur." Ok he should know they would be good at finding tracks, but he was the only one to know the direction to go anyways.

Terrence doesn't say anything, instead walking off back towards the main barrack tents - whether or not Zolomon is following. The damage to camp isn't too severe; three tents had been torn down and nearly half of all sleeping tents having a skull in them. The toad bones have been gathered into a pile near the center, and the sergeant stops to look at it. "Rather macabre, isn't it?" he chuckles.

Varus had taken charge of the cleanup as soon as he'd been woken, and he sighs as Terrence returns. "Macabre doesn't even begin t' bloody well covah it," he replies. "Just look at 'em all..."

Zolomon led the Privates to follow the tracks best they could, he avoided one trap fairly well and looked around. He finds a bit of fur and looks around with a frown. "Also following the tracks should help avoid----"And it's too late as his footpaw finds the trap and he is not quick enough to avoid suddenly being upside down and one foot trapped in a rope swinging back and forth. He folds his arms over his chest as he just sort of swings back and forth and comes to a stop. "Well... one less bally trap ta worry back chaps."

The old trackers glance at each other, holding back laughs. "Maybe we should leave him hangin', eh?" One says even as he goes to help Zolomon stop swinging. The others seem to be seriously contemplating it, though, but before they can say anything the tracker had cut the corporal free, hoping to let him down.

"Still..." Terrence says, a thoughtful look on his face, "Think Dom may have committed bloody genocide to get all these, wot." He kicks one with his boot. "At least we more than likely won't have to worry about toads, sah."

Varus grimaces. He detests toads, but Terrance's words are little comfort. "Aye... But this is goin' a bit too fah, though. We're not in th' business of genocide..."

Zolomon falls onto the ground and frowns as he stands, "Ok...so like onwards, Dom can't be too far away right?" He will look and do his best, he will avoid traps and with help him and the Privates make it so less traps are around by being able to set them off so they are not useable anymore. "I say...a little more looking and then go back ta report." At least it will be easier to get back to camp, they maybe look another hour or two before they go to head back with a report of findings.

The trackers don't seem all to thrilled that the corporal is tagging along, but they decide to grin and bear it as they follow the trail Dom left.

"I'd hope we aren't," Terrence mutters, turning away from the skulls. "And whether or not Dom is going to far, he has constantly disobeyed ordahs and is now actively going aftah the patrol - so I wouldn't quite say that is a 'we', sah."

Varus sighs, rubbing a paw over his face. "'E clearly took a hahd knock t' th' 'ead, because 'e was a good, loyal Patrollah. 'E needs 'elp..."

The sergeant gives Varus a sideways look, having heard some tales of the AWOL private long before the current mess happened. "Perhaps he does. I neveh met him 'efore last month's training, sah, though I've been around to hear things 'bout him. Can't say all the skulls help his image, wot." Terrence shrugs, sitting down on a tree stump now that the commotion of the camp has died down.

Varus shrugs. He's at a loss himself. "I don't know. I have t' jus' keep tellin' mahself that, wot. Eithah way... I should probably go check on Konnah here soon..."

"Indeed, he's probably been woken by all the bloody noise..." Terrence stands, rolling his shoulders. "I need to go make sure triple watches are set in place - two guards seem too little, wot. Dom knocked both of them out and tossed them in a pit - they're fine, besides a few bruises, so no worries there..." He mutters, more to himself than the major, "Even if they missed some one entering camp... rather poor show there."

Varus harrumps. Disciplinary actions will be doled out in due course. "Right, well, y' bring 'em both t' me. I'd like t' have a word with 'em..."

Terrence gives a single nod, turning on his heel to go find the two unfortunates. Before he goes, however, he turns back to the major. "Sah, if I may... They were overpowered by Dom and there were only two of them. Frankly I think that might be a failure on the patrol, as I wouldn't expect even three hares to withstand our Pvt. Dominik, wot."

Varus hmms. "I s'pose yahr right, wot. Still, I would like t' 'ave a chat with 'em. Could be enlightenin'..." He, in turn, goes to check on Konner in the infirmary tent.

"Right sah, I'll look for them." Terrence walks in the opposite direction as the major and the infirmary, which thankfully remained untouched in Dom's night attack. Konner has been spending the past hour or so in a cold sweat, terrified that the big private who paints himself with toad blood would find him, and he starts easily at any noise. His nose is bandaged and so is his head - his concussion is minor, but the fever he has had for weeks is more worrisome.

Varus steps into the tent, and stands over Konner's cot. "Private Konnah... Y' look terrible. Tell me... Wot's been 'appenin' since we lost ya?" The Major already has a good idea formulated, but he wants to hear what the Private has to say about it.

Konner manages to sit up straighter despite his leg that had healed crookedly. "S-sah." He gives a weak salute. "Feel bloody terrible, wot, an' wot 'ave I been up to?" He scrunches up his face as if he's having trouble recalling. "Well, sah, first got nailed by a bloomin' rock right in m'leg," he taps it with a wince, "And fell in one o'h those mud pools. Hid in a log, I did, while all th'toads passed by. Aftah tha' fixed up m'leg as best I could, sah, though not tha' well it seems..." He trails off, looking down.

Varus nods his head. "We figured as much. Go on, Private. 'Ow did y' end up wi' Dominik?"

"Oh, tha' lil' business." Konner keeps his eyes down. "So 'e was Dom, f'sure? Aftah days o'h so waitin' on y'lot to show up an' find me I got impatient, so t'speak, an' tried m'luck out in th'swamp, wot. Managed t'get myself caught hun' in th'air by one o'his fancy traps, sah. 'E came soon aftah-wards an' knocked me clean ou'. 'E was covered in toad guts an' mud, an' more unsavory things, wot."

Varus grimaces. "I see... An' he kept you, this 'ole bloody time? No wondah yahr in such bad shape, wot!"

Nodding, Konner starts to lay back down. "Yes sah, though 'e tried t' heal me up. 'E keeps a dead toad skeleton as a friend, calls 'em Blorg or somethin' like it, an' says o' himself 'e's 'Erg'. Any blinkin' idea wot tha' means, sah? Either way I got out by klockin'im with a rock 'cause I'd though' he was gonna eat me, wot. Took me a while t'realize 'e was a hare, wot with th'toad blood an' keepin' 'is ears back an' all. Plus an accent - nevah talked t'Dom myself 'efore all this."

"Feel a bit bad tha' I got 'im right in his snout, now..." Konner adds after a moment.

Varus shakes his head. "No idea wot 'Erg' means, I'm afraid. Probably just ramblin's of a sick mind. Regahdless, y' got out, that's commendable. You get yahr rest, an' get bettah. That's an ordah, Private."

Nodding the private shifts his head on the pillow, closing his eyes. "Yes sah. I'll be sure to, wot." Terrence pokes his head in then, looking from Konner to the major. "Majah? The two guards are out here and waiting." He disappears again.

Varus watches Konner close his eyes, then turns. Nodding to Terrence, he exits the tent, and faces the two hares, who are no doubt nervous of the attention.

"Sah!" The two salute. There's a slight shakiness to their voices as they eye the major nervously. Terrence stands to one side, leaning against the tent pole, gaze drifting up eastward were the faintest of greys is appearing that heralds the coming day.

"At ease!" The Major orders. "You'll sprain somethin'..." He shakes his head. "I'm told y' were taken down by Dominik... Care t' explain 'ow that 'appened, wot?"

Relaxing, the hare on the left begins, "I was on th'second watch, as that's what lot I drew, and 'bout three hours in a big paw clamped around m'mouth and nose, sah, and 'e dragged me out inta th'swamp and knocked me out. Woke in a pit with Greenhill here, wot." Greenhill, the other hare, nods. "Same thing 'appened t'me. One moment I was fightin' off sleep and th'next I was bein' smothered by a paw. Couldn't even make a peep, with 'ow tight 'e was 'oldin' me, sah."

Letting out a yawn, Terrence gestures to the two. "More or less what they told Lt. Greg, sah."

Varus mmms, and nods. "I see. Well, yahr not on report. Coulda happened t' anybeast... Still... May'aps be slightly more alert in th' future, wot!"

The two let out breaths they hadn't known they were holding. "Right sah." Greenhill looks down for moment, adding, "One more thin'. 'E seemed to blend in with th'night - Dom, I'm meanin', and I don't remembah him bein' black furred, right?"

Terrence raises an eyebrow. "I don't actually recall his fur color, now that I think of it. Of course you'd know betteh than I 'bout that, sah." He looks at Varus. "Was it black?"

Varus shakes his head. "No. It was closer to brownish, I believe. 'E may 'ave covahed 'imself in mud?" The Major is grasping at straws. "This will make 'im impossible t' track at night, though, so we'll post double watches, instead..."

"I had triple watches for the rest of tonight, sah." Terrence says, pushing himself free of the pole. "Though," his eyes are on the eastern sky again, "There's not much night left it seems, wot. If there's not anything more you'd ask of me or these two, Pvt. Greenhill and...?"

"Pvt. Reuenthal, sah."

"Reuenthal," Terrence repeats, "I think we should all turn in for the night, wot. Least what's left of it."

Varus harrumps, and nods. "Aye, we should get wotevah shuteye we c'n get left. G'night, Sahgeant Terrence." The old hare dismisses the two privates, then goes to retire to his tent.

"Good night, sah!" When the major leaves, the two privates look at each other than at Terrence, who grunts. "Might as well try to get an hour, if I were you." His attention is on the rapidly brighten sky once again, wandering off and not paying much mind to the two hares. The sergeant couldn't sleep before, and has little hope of doing so now. So he joins with the guards till grey dawn breaks.

Ol'random · Logs

Sgt. Felicity,
Lt. Gregorian,
Sgt. Terrence,
and Cpl. Zolomon, all hares.

A prelude to the attempt to find Dom...

"Oh, come off it! I gave you the list of wot's needed three days ago." From the kitchens Terrence's voice drifts out, approaching the mess hall. "We can't have perishables or heavy things - need to be able to carry it all!" The sergeant appears then, revealed by the now open door. Technically he is in uniform but his main tunic is unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders to ward off the heat of the cooking and revealing the linen shirt beneath. Looking back towards some kitchen aid, he adds, "Either way, I'd like you to help find it all, wot. I need to eat now." There's a distinct sway to his walk as he searches for a seat, with the bags under his eyes a tell-tale sign of tiredness.

Zolomon walks in as he fixes the collar on his own uniform. A small group of Privates follow him as he smiles. "Yes lunch break, you may go eat tis fine." He gets some smiles and a thank you, a salute even as he chuckles, he needs to get use to that still. He sits down in a chair nearby after getting some soup, a roll, salad and a bit of pie with something to drink.

Every long trek out should start with a good meal. That was Greg's firm belief and he's already settled in having started early. It took some arguing with the healers before they agreed with him going, he didn't give them much choice in the matter and the heated conversation had ended with one of them volunteering to be a medic for the trip. He started that mess, he was going to help fix it. His ears perked to Terrence's difficulties and Zolomon's arrival but he was busy eating and silently watching the room while he went through his own thoughts.

"No, I can't bloody well stay an' watch m'sistah! I can't stand the weepin' anymore," Felicity tells a leveret caretaker as they both enter the room. The newly-minted Sergeant is dogedly avoiding wearing her new uniform as much as possible, including right now, instead opting for one of her battered and patched outfits, the shirt of which used to belong to her mother. The caretaker says something, and the Runner shakes her head. "I 'ave t'go 'elp get Dom back. Julia'll nevah forgive me if I don't try t'bring 'er friend back." She manages to lose the other hare in the crowd, sitting next to Greg and burying her head in her arms with a groan.

Gaze drifting lazily over the room, Terrence considers his options. Zolomon or the privates, no good; too close to work for him to enjoy the break. There's Greg - he's always good to have a meal with. And then there's Felicity, too. He falters then, having a moment of indecision, before standing up straighter and coming up to the two. "Good day today, eh? Mind if I sit?" Admittedly more of his attention is on Felicity than Gregorian, but he hopes the lieutenant will forgive him for that.

Zolomon hasn't noticed Felicity yet as he is eating soup and looking over a couple papers he has, yes he has paperwork now and he is getting these couple he has done before heading on out for the mission they will be doing later on. He already has stuff he needs put aside, he just has to grab it on the way out. He takes a bite of pie as he reads and jolts down something.

Gregorian's ears twitch this way and that as he picks up on various chatter including Felicity's woes though it's not until Felicity appears next to him that he glances over from his food and after a pause offers a greeting grunt. He's in a serious, thinking mood, the grunt seems to be all they're getting at first until Terrence approaches too and Greg looks up again. He gestures at a chair with his fork and there's another grunt before he clears his throat and sits up a little since words are probably starting to be require. "Sit as yah like. Anymore tah join or has the popularity of my table reached it's peak?"

Felicity groans again. "I sweah, if we don't bring Dom back, Julia's gonna whine and wail and weep me t'death." She gestures vaguely, probably inviting Terrence to go ahead and sit, although she hasn't lifted her head up from the crook of her elbow. Greg's grunts were probably just fine conversation wise right now.

Zolomon does glance over at the other table but has this annoying paperwork he has waited on, so he needs that done before he really has free time, or least free time till they go look for Dom. He drinks some of his drink, a bite of roll and finishes the first paper as he smiles, on to the 2nd paper.

Terrence does sit, with a an apologetic laugh and shrug to Greg. "Sorry, can't say much to that." As he relaxes into the seat, the hare tilts his head to one side looking at Felicity. "Well, everything that I know is in place - if things go off without a hitch, I think we can find him. Hare that big can't be too difficult to spot, so Julia might quiet up before she kills you, wot." His eyes dart to the table briefly, highly aware of Greg's presence, then back to the lamenting doe. "Er, Felicity? I wanted to let you know something." He sincerely hopes she can pick up on his meaning as he never was good with words around her.

Gregorian hrms as talk turns to the task at hand. "We'll our best and wotevah we can tah find him and get him home again." he's had too much experience to promise everything will be fine but they'll try. He glances at Terrence, squints, frowns slightly and then with a grunt he's back to his food. He also knows when not to get involved.

Felicity finally looks up at Greg. "Oh, I know. An' I'm comin, if only to tell m'sistah that I tried. Dom's m'friend, as well as a fellow Patrollah, an' I refuse t'just leave 'im out there when I can at least try t' 'elp." She looks over at Terrence. "Oh, yeah? Whot's that?" No, she really doesn't have any idea. This kind of stuff isn't something she's good at. He's gonna have to spit it out.

Zolomon seems hard at work and then chuckles, "Done..yes...take that ya paperwork." And the privates stare at him as he clears his throat and lays the paper work aside. "It's a good thing to get paper work done and on time too."

A look of deep gratitude for Gregorian on Terrence's face is replaced by something far more akin to panic at Felicity's words. "Ah. Right, well, eh," He lets out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "You probably never noticed because I'm dreadful at all this but I've always had a thing for you, wot." With one elbow on the table he's turned to the doe fully, doing his best not to consider how public the conversation is. To his credit, the next words are delivered with far less hesitant than previously: "As in, well, I quite like you, Felicity. That's wot."

Gregorian gives his food a very flat look and stabs it with a fork. He says nothing, not even a grunt. He's hoping they'll just pretend he's not there, be all happy and move on swiftly without needing him for anything. Mentally he's grumbling to whatever afterlife he believes, something along the lines of 'I hope you're happy, I'm going to be out patrolling with this' runs through his head as he can just imagine his old mate laughing his head off.

Felicity blinks as surprise and possibly mild shock take hold. "Uh...." is her graceful and eloquent reply. "Um.....thanks, um, thanks f'r tellin' me," she says, although it sounds a bit more like a question. "Um...." Could this day get any more awkward? Oh, yeah, and she's going on a rescue mission with Terrence later. Oh, boy.

Zolomon chuckles again as the privates just go back to eating their meal. He stands and goes to bring the papers to Greg, they are completed so no need to add extra to it as he lays them beside the hare and just happens to look over at Felicity and Terrance and tilts his head "Is...every thing ok?"

Leaning his chair back Terrence plasters a forced smile on his face, self aware enough to recognize just how awkward this all is, especially with Greg sitting quietly right next to them. "Well..." The sergeant begins, after a long pause. "Perhaps this wasn't the best time, wot." The forced smile transforms into something more genuine - up until Zolomon comes over. "Uh. Hullo there, corporal." The look on his face now somewhere between horror and amusement, and soon a hearty laugh escapes from him with no explanation other than the absurdness of it all.

Gregorian has never been more happy to see paperwork in his life. He takes it with a grateful nod and stands looking over it. He might not need to do anything with it but he's going to read it intently. "Terrence was just tellin' Felicity how he likes her." Greg replies flatly to Zolomon without looking up...He pauses. Why did he say that? Why is he getting himself involved?! He blames Fred. Ghostly influences from the past are terrible trouble makers.

Felicity looks up at Zolomon. "Um, I think so?" When Terrence starts laughing, she chuckles a little too, until Greg spills the proverbial beans, and then she's flushing very deeply. "Oh, 'Eavens..." she looks up at her fellow Runner, then back at her fellow Sergeant. Finally she looks up at Greg with a look that says 'help.' He's getting involved whether he likes it or not.

Zolomon listens carefully as Greg speaks the words, he seems to think on the words and looks at Terrance, then Felicity and is just so very quiet.The look on his face seems sort of like shock or he heard something wrong.Maybe he did as he does only have one ear but it usually hasn't been a problem, "Oh..sur...he..did sur..ummmm." He just seems to focus on the fork beside Greg, is that a good or bad thing, "Well....so the papers thar, they are like..ya know, done and ya get less work so that's a nice, a good thing.." He looks at Felicity as she speaks to him and takes a deep breath. "I think? Umm...yes I mean of course I think...or I be..well..dead and surely don't want..death, then who, who does...and...." He coughs a little as he just stares at Felicity. "And...I think..umm..on wot?" Oh yeah the fact Terrance likes Felicity. "I think...that..your..I mean..I..." He then frowns, he sighs and looks at...the fork again, then frowns. "I'm sorry I just..."

Terrence is also staring at Greg, though instead of help the look is utter horror. "S-sah?" He chokes out, eyes darting from the lieutenant, to Zolomon, and finally to Felicity. It seems he has no other words at the moment, beyond a mouthed, "Sorry." to the other sergeant. When Zolomon starts babbling, he winces (remembering how Zolomon acts around Felicity), giving the corporal an apologetic look. He's been doing that a lot lately. Opening his mouth as if to say something, he thinks better of it as silence might go over easier than putting his foot in his mouth again.

Gregorian glances skywards with a very quiet mutter, "When I get up there..." he has no actual threats for ghosts he'd genuinely just be happy to see though. Alright, this is all horrible awkward. He doesn't look directly at any of them so he doesn't really see Felicity's plead for help or Zolomon's idolizing of his fork. "Anyway," he says very firmly, "Tahdays is marchin' ordahs. Are we ready and equipped tah go?" he volunteers for anything that still needs doing that will mean he has to go somewhere else. Literally anything.

Felicity notes Zolomon eyeing the fork, and she nabs it before he can do anything with it. And of course the older hare isn't helping her at ALL. "I 'onestly don't know whot t'say or do right now, an' I'm sorry. I've nevah 'ad t'deal with this evah in m'life. 'Ow m'oldah brothah dealt w'this is beyond me..." she adds with a mutter.

Zolomon nods first to Greg, "Yes sur. This mission be important and I know that. I am sure we will find him, and find him alive. Dom is a tough beast and smart enough to stay outta trouble sur...and I can even help ya double check supplies we are taking with us..sur." He looks at Felicity and frowns, he then speaks. "Felicity...I..." A deep breath, "Your..amazing, your eyes sparkle and your just so full of life sometimes, when I was down for a while ya helped me feel better with a smile, a pat on the shoulder and..your smile its just.." He smiles now himself, "Your so..." He just says it, "Beautiful when you smile, and I remember that race to see who was faster and we both was. That was fun and I even thought of asking you to dinner and why didn't I..I don't righty know maybe I was afraid, or..and..in the swamps those toads...I was so worried after they dragged me away..ya know, maybe I could escape I thought..ya know get help for you and the others...I...I can't image a world without you in it, that world would be horrible and empty because.." It's simple he thinks, simple words, so hard to say. "Because..I ..I love you...now please excuse me I need to make sure those supplies are ready for our mission, like I said I would."

"Ah. Yes." There's a higher than usual pitch in Terrence's voice, even if he's thankful for Greg's distraction, if only briefly. "The gear's been all laid out in the meeting room, sah." The sergeant, after the fork is moved and Zolomon starts confessing things, rests both elbows on the table, taking off his spectacles with one paw and rubbing the bridge of his nose with the other. "Quite a lot to say there, don't you?" Having listened to the corporal's speech, there's a neutral note to his voice as he says it. It's soon dropped with a sigh, however, as he falls into a bit of melancholy. "Daresay I haven't dealt with this either, Felicity, though all I can say now is that I'm the one who should be rather sorry about causing..." He swallows, head still bowed and waves a paw in the other hares' various directions. "This." Seems I made a right mess of things is left implied, but unsaid.

It just got worse! Greg pulls a face as Zolomon starts confessing feelings too. His lips purse as it all comes out. He just rests his face in a paw as Terrence starts to speak and he gives up entirely at trying to think of a way out. There's a pause after the bucks are done before he looks up briefly to Felicity. "Don't yah start lookin' at me now, I'm not joinin' the club and confessin' tah love yah." he says before his head returns to his paw.

Felicity blushes deeply and buries her face in a paw, too. "Don't apologize," she says in a muffled way. She sits up as Greg speaks and scowls at him. After a moment of thinking, she points at Zolomon. "Sit." She points to the chair next to Terrence before pointing at him in turn, "Put y'glasses back on." She points at Greg. "Please sit an' be a witness. I'm not askin' y't'get any more involved than that, Sah." She crosses her arms, lips pursed, obviously expecting to be obeyed. Since the 2 younger bucks just told her they love/like her, it would probably be good for them to listen right now.

Zolomon sits down slowly in the chair that is pointed to. Paws folded in his lap he just is silent and waits, his good ear listening to what is to be said now.

For good or ill, Terrence had already decided to ride this train to the end back when he first sat down. He remains were he is, giving Greg a shrug as he puts his spectacles back on as ordered by Felicity. "Well, I'm not planning on going anywhere any time soon, wot." A slight grin plays at the corners of his mouth as he turns all his attention on the doe. "I've dug this grave myself after all."

Gregorian grunts as he's told to bare witness. He's not objecting but being surrounded by young love and drama brings out the grumpy old buck in him. He lowers his paw so he can see Felicity and watch though he looks a little grouchy about it.

Felicity sighs. "Look. I dunno whot t'say t'eithah of you, although I am grateful y'trusted me enough t'tell me that. I think I need some time t'process this. So can we set this all aside until we bring Dom back?" She takes a deep breath and adds, "An' th'thing I want Greg 'ere for is that from th' time we get back, you 2 are t' 'elp me take care o' m'sistah. No mattah whot 'appens, she 'as t'approve o' the 'are I marry someday, an' I'm not sure who that's gonna be," she adds quickly, hoping she's not hurting either of them. "If y'want t'try and form a relationship with me like that, y' 'ave t'prove that y'good with Julia in th'long run. Clear?" And she may or may not have just gotten 2 free babysitters to help her. Hey, awkwardness can bring great good. Yay!

Zolomon nods. "Understandable...and ya have a point, your sister is ya family and so thats important. and I am ok with helping ta watch her when I can."

"Crystal." Terrence replies, nodding, though he manages to sink into his chair. He's rather squeamish at all the mentions of love and marriage, the tips of his ears going red. "I won't mention this out in the field, wot. Not at all." A recruit comes over to the table, coughing politely. "Uh, Sahs?" They say, saluting, "Everythin's been prepared f'your expedition, wot!"

Gregorian grunts again but this time sounds a little more hopeful and mutters, "Sensible." now if they can ignore all this for a few days, weeks or however long it takes to find Dom and get him back, hopefully without another declaration of love from him, they might just survive this. He nods once to the recruit. "Good. About time." where were they five minutes ago before all this came out?

Felicity nods. "Good. 'Cause I ain't gonna court or date or whatevah a beast without the intent o' marriage, and m'sistah 'as t'be involved in that." She looks up as the Recruit speaks, and she stands. "I s'pose this means I needta change into m'new uniform, huh?" she grumbles. "Good thing I 'ave everythin' else packed an' ready t'go, wot!"

"Indeed." A part of Terrence wonders the same thing as Greg (where were they?) as the recruit exits, and he stands too. "I need to change as well, I think. At least get my rapier in place, wot." There's a brief glance back at the kitchens once he realizes he never ate, but that can come later. "Anyway, Lieutenant, Felicity, Zolomon, I expect to see you all in a bit!" All embarrassment and awkwardness gone from him, the sergeant turns on his heel and heads for the door.

Ol'random · Logs

OOC: Thanks to everyone who took part!
Pvt. Dominik,
Sgt. Felicity,
Lt. Gregorian,
Pvt. Konner,
Sgt. Terrence,
Mjr. Varus,
and Cpl. Zolomon, all hares.

In the cold, still air a distant cry of a crow rings out, its sharp caw barely muffled by the chilled marshlands, the only sign of life in the burned out swamp beyond a rare bubble rising from the depths. Frost from the morning still remains even as the sun starts to dip behind the distant dunes though the pools of muck and mud have yet to ice over even this late into November. Still, if a hare were to fall into the pits they'd certainly feel like they broke through ice. Despite this uninviting weather and similar landscape hares are marching onwards, having begun their slow trek from the mountain of Salamandastron some time ago.

Weighed down by double the standard equipment they step along in pairs lead by scouts who know the safest route, with standing orders to not deviate from the path lest somebeast sinks into the cool mush surrounding them.

Bringing up the rear Terrence wraps a blanket he's using as a shawl closer about his shoulders. Ears flat against his neck in an effort to conserve heat, the sergeant bites his lip, raising his head to peer forward towards the rock outcrop that is their destination- too distant for his liking, the hares have been moving slower than expected. Cupping both paws around his mouth to project, he barks out, "OI! Quick pace you lot! Gotta at least set up tents 'efore light 'n' warmth are gone!"

Gregorian is cold but as far as he's concerned being uncomfortable with the weather is just part of being on patrol. He braves the weather with mostly just stubbornness. He barks a laugh at Terrence's words. "There was nevah any warmth tah begin with!" he's actually in a better mood since they left the mountain. Partly because it distracts from the awkwardness, partly because he hasn't been on a proper patrol in years. He's keeping up with the group alright though his pegleg is a bit more susceptible to cutting straight through the mud. He's got his cane out of his belt to try and help with that a bit or at least make it easier to poke it around and find the firmer bits to step on.

Zolomon walks along and keeps an eye out for any trouble as they head into the swamplands. He disliked this place before the toads, but least they have a better idea of where things are, or they should anyways.

Felicity is in her new Sergeant uniform, with thermals on under her pants. She is also wearing a hat of the same colour as her uniform, and a quilted uniform jacket, although it still has appliqués of her Corporal rank on it -- she hasn't yet had time to change it to her current rank. Tugging her uniform gloves on a bit more snugly, she readjusts her backpack. "Aye, go fastah, wot! 'Tisn't on m'list o' things I'd like t'do, settin' up tents in th'dahk, wot! Step lively now! But f'r th'love, be careful!" She pulls a Private from their perilous almost step off the path. "Stay on track, lassie," she adds more gently, although it's still obviously an order.

Some distance away from the intrepid group of Patrollers, Dom...or Erg, as he is now known, of course...sits within the small cave he'd found shelter in, a small fire having been set which he'd been able to maintain rather well throughout the time he'd been there. It managed to keep out most of the chill in the air, and that was certainly a good thing since the large hare was still only clad in his torn Patrol uniform. He had definitely begun to undergo another change, however...his normally mahogany fur had begun to take on a very evident tinge of white as his winter coat had begun to come in. It only made the hare look all the more unusual. Poking at the fire with a stick held in his paw, Erg stares down into said fire, occasionally glance up to grin over at the toad-skeleton that sits nearby. Konner has mostly been ignored, for the most part, Erg only tending to him to check his healing wounds and to change the dressings if need be. Otherwise, he mostly remained silent, every now and then simply sitting there and staring at the other hare. "Hrm," he chuckles. "Take look at this, Blorg...." He nods towards the fire, and how it makes a large shadow on the wall of the toad-skeleton. "Is you, but...bigger."

Konner is perfectly happy being ignored, feigning sleep as he is. The private clutches the rock he plans to use for... something... as he keeps his breathing steady and even. While 'Erg' has been relatively helpful, that doesn't stop the hare from being terrifying especially with all the conversations with the literal pile of bones he has. And the shadow puppetry. So Konner waits for his moment to strike and run.

If the chill air is bothering Terrence he doesn't outright say so, instead falling in step next to the lieutenant, "We've been a lot slower than I'd like, wot. Might not reach the rocks before sunset." His breath fogs up his spectacles and he brings a gloved paw up to wipe them off, looking up towards the clear sky. "The temperature's going to drop quite a lot tonight, and I for one don't want to be caught out in the open like this. Even if its bloody cold right now it'll be nothing once we're freezing our ears off in the night, wot."

Gregorian gets a little annoyed when his leg sinks in the mud again but he was getting plenty of practice pulling it back out again. "I know Sargent. No need tah worry though. The ground's firmah with the cold and we know more about the paths through this place now than we have done in years thanks tah the trainin'. We all know wot we're doin', I reckon we could get a camp set up in minutes."

Zolomon nods. "So far, so good sur...though quiet is not always good"

Felicity scowls. "I did not wish t'be out 'ere in this freezin' weathah aftah dark....rathah be 'idin' in a tent undah blankets....oooh, an' I'm prob'ly gonna get stuck doing guard duty at some point..." She continues to chunner to herself under her breath, interspersed with advice for the Privates and Corporals with them. A couple of them have never really done much outside of the Mountain, while the Runner Sergeant has done almost everything she's ever done in the Patrol outside the confines of Salamandastron. She's trying to gently share her hard-learned experience with those under her care.

Dominik is perfectly content at the moment watching the projected shadow on the wall of the cave. Reaching out his paw, he makes one of Blorg's arms move up and down, which in turn makes the shadow's arm move as well. The large hare seemingly gets a huge kick out of this, the grin evident upon his muzzle. It also may be the distraction that Konner needs, as Erg isn't fully paying attention to him and has no idea that the other hare is clutching a rock in his paw. I mean, why would he want to leave? They have everything they need right there, after all! "Hah! Blorg is waving..." he chuckles, before poking at the fire again with the stick and stoking the flames. He eventually tosses the stick in as well. "Blorg. If Erg has not said before, vil let you know. Is best friend. Vil not leave Erg's side, even ven get cold. Erg appreciate." The large hare has no idea that, some distance away, the other Patrollers are huddled in the cold in preparation to search for him. What he does know, is all his various traps had been set in the area leading up to his cave, and they are simply waiting to be stumbled into.

Varus's long ears perk and he looks over at Felicity. "Sahgeant... Do I heah complainin' in our midst?" The Major is actually dressed somewhat more warmly than the rest, owing to the cold doing a number on his old joints. "Wot 'ave I always said about complainin'?"

With a cough that might be real, Konner mutters something to himself about Blorg, rock still in paw. He shifts, trying his best to get Dom, or 'Erg' nearby. "Wa-water..." He croaks out, doing what he can to sound absolutely pitiful.

Terrence's gaze falls on Zolomon in front of him when Greg says everyone. "Perhaps I'm worrying too much, wot." Indeed, even now the rocks appear far closer than before. "But knowing our luck..." Raising his voice, he calls out to the corporal, "Quiet's better than croaking, wot! Toads are more than likely sleeping with the cold and all. We won't have to worry much, I suppose!"

"WOT IN TH' BLAZ-" Of course it just so happens that at the moment the words leave the sergeant one of the scouts leading the march is hoisted with a yelp by his ankle and is left dangling upside down in a tree, with his partner calling for a halt and help next to him.

Gregorian does at least have a good coat over his uniform. It's old but warmer than nothing and waterproof. "We've had worse starts tah a patrol." he doesn't elaborate on how because that would be jinxing it but then the shouting happens anyway. He was already alert but now his ears flick in every direction and he draws the blade from inside the cane in his paws as he hurries forwards and then halts the moment they're told to. A deep frown crosses his face as he looks at the upside down hare. "Hell. We're goin' tah need tah watch our steps. The toads weren't settin' traps before but they are now." it never crosses his mind that it could be Dom setting them.

Zolomon lays a paw on his longbow, he did bring it and the saber he has as well, just in case as he looks around carefully. He walks slowly and hmmms. He unknowingly barely avoids a trap himself.

Felicity had been in front, so she's a little surprised the Major even heard her. "Well, Sah..." But the shouting interrupts her, and as she darts forward to help, she falls into a pit trap just as the scout yells at everyone to halt. Shouting and cursing, the haremaid slips to the bottom of the pit and then screams as she comes face to face with the skelaton of a toad....which she immediately beheads before even thinking. After a few breaths, she sheaths her sword and shouts up to her fellow Patrollers, "Oi, could somebeast 'elp me outta Dom's Pit o' Frights?" There's no doubt in her mind as to who and what made these traps now that she's seen one of the surprises in store for those who get caught in them.

Dominik's ears perk as he hears the croaking voice immediately nearby, and he stares wide-eyed at Blorg, perhaps thinking that the toad-skeleton had just asked for water. "...Blorg. Just gave vater, does not need more..." he frowns. "I..." His eyes then fall on Konner, and the realization hits him. "Oh. Er. Yes. Vil get...vater." The large hare slowly pushes himself up to his full height, his ears barely brushing the ceiling of the cave as he does so. He makes his way over to the far wall, where he keeps most of his supplies, and he picks up the small flagon containing fresh water he had gathered earlier. He makes his way back over towards Konner, then leans down and holds the flagon out to him...unwittingly giving the other hare a target. "Here..."

Varus raises a paw. "Everybeast, halt! There's pits! Make yahr way carefully forwahd..." In the meantime, he approaches Felicity's pit, and kneels, holding out his paw. "C'mon, out y' go, wot!"

Konner manages a grin as Erg leans over, despite himself, and mutters again, "Wa-tar..." Then, with a quick snap of his wrist, the stone is hurled right at the big hare's nose with the private leaping up right after, throwing himself towards the cave exit. "Thanks f'everythin', wot, bu' I really must be goin'!" He calls over his shoulder.

"Just our bloody luck." The sergeant curses, having certainly jinxed it. "USE SPEARS OR STICKS TO TEST WERE Y'STEP!" Terrence shouts, making his way to the front. It is quite the production to get the scout down from where he hangs without hurting him, as the knot-work is superior even to the standard patrol way - far too good for toads, if anyone bothers to look into it. Taking out a dagger, Terrence finds the counter weight. "Get ready to catch him, or least hold him still so he doesn't fall!" Not taking his own advice, the bespectacled hare steps on leafs right in front of the rock with ropes around it. He doesn't think twice about it- and immediately is lifted into the air to dangle across from the other scout. Another curse escapes Terrence, this time much more vulgar as his spectacles fall off.

Gregorian jumps a little as Felicity disappears down a hole but he huffs a little sigh of relief when she yells. At least it wasn't full of spikes or something "Hell" he mutters as he puts his sword away to use the can for poking around on the ground. He prods around around until he's nearly under the handing hare and then jumps again when Terrence also gets lifted off the ground. After the initial surprise though he folds his arms and and just looks at the Sargent. "Really?!" a sigh and a shake of his head and he slowly heads that way to the counterweight, checking very carefully until he's close enough to cut the first one down with his sword.

Zolomon frowns as he sees Felicity and a couple others find traps. So far he has found none. "I..hope none of these are dangerous." He is being careful and looking for odd leaves or something that looks out of place.

Felicity accepts Varus' help out of the pit. "I beheaded a dead toad, do I get extra rations?" She deadpans, then looks up to see Terrence hanging from his heels in a tree. "Oh, cheese crackahs....I'll find y'glasses....." she cautiously starts poking around in the leaves, searching for the spectacles. When she finds them, she'll put them in her jacket pocket to keep them safe until he's pulled down. "Did y'lot learn nothin' from my escapade?" The Sergeant gripes at the other hares who've fallen into pits. "Use caution t'check th'ground afore y'step on it, an' that's an ordah, wot! Unless o' course y're a highah rankin' officah, then it's a helpful suggestion."

Dominik had thought that he had done the nice and proper thing by saving Konner from his trap, and treating his wounds...even sharing his meager food with the other hare...but, no. Apparently, he was nothing more than merely a giant monster keeping Konner captive. It isn't as if the other hare could have merely gotten up and requested to leave, a request Erg more than likely would have granted, being that he certainly did enjoy his solitude. Konner didn't seem to see things this way, and so the other hare throws the rock at Erg, point blank. Taken by surprise, he yelps in surprise and pain as the rock thwacks the large hare right in the nose, causing him to immediately see stars as it dazes him. It begins to ooze blood a few moments later, a small cut opened up on his muzzle. Erg drops the water, clapping a paw to his muzzle in a reflexive action, eyes squeezing shut which gives Konner ample time to flee out into the cold marshes. It takes a few moments for Erg to realize what had just happened, the fogginess from both the shock and the pain clearing a little, and he lets out a rage-filled roar, a sound which echoes throughout the cavern, and out into the marshes. Of all the things Konner could have done to make things worse, that...was likely at the top of the list.

Varus harrumps at the younger hares falling into traps whilst he has the experience to spot one a mile away. He avoids the pits, and the snares, and that one there that causes a dead toad to pop out of the brush to give elder hares heart attacks. No, he avoids them all, because he's better than that. "Right, y' sorry lot. Watch y' bloomin' steps, an' step around the bloody pits. Now come o..." His speech is cut off by that blood-curdling roar. "Oh damn."

Knowing that his life probably depends on it, Konner runs like the wind once out of the cave. He winces every time weight is put on his recently healed leg, but he pushes through it. His ears flatten to his neck when the roar rips out across the marsh, doing his best to go faster. Of course, as he does so, he hears the commotion from the patrol. "O'ER 'ERE! PATROL! O'ER 'ERE!" Waving his arms wildly to try to catch their attention, he knows his only hope is meeting up with the other hares before the enraged 'Erg' finds him, after all.

Thankfully, there seems to be less traps around now that so many hares had been caught in them, so there is a bright side to the mild chaos.

As the scout falls safely into the arms his comrades, Terrence gives the lieutenant a deeply annoyed look. "With all due respect, I've already had quite the day today - without you taking that tone, Sah." While fully aware he might have deserved the 'really', Terrence manages to place his paws on his hips, still hanging upside down. "To be fair to me, sah, I wasn't expectin' the bloody toads to have double defenses like this, wot." Looking thoroughly unamused the sergeant is spinning, though he softens slightly when Felicity says she'll look for his spectacles, which luckily hadn't fallen into a nearby mush pit. "Thanks, wot - do you hear something?" He blinks, unseeing.

Zolomon is careful, he barely avoids a rope as it almost gets his leg as he manages to just barely avoid it and yips. He sighs in relief as he walks forwards "Ok every hare just blooming walk careful like and all should be----" He frowns, what was that snap noise, he gasps as he sidesteps a log crashing past and he jumps to avoid it returning as it stops. "Well that was blooming close." He then goes to walk back over and...yep, finds a trap as he gets a gasp out and falls into the pit and knocks himself out!

Gregorian grumbles back at Terrence as he slowly makes his way to the rope holding him up too to cut that as well. "We're all havin' a bad day now!" he successfully avoids getting caught for now and freezes at the roar, his ears perking "Wot the blazes was that?" he mutters. He faintly hears yelling as Konner runs about shouting but then Zolomon unearths another trap by walking in to it and ends up in a pit. "Everyone stop movin' now!" Greg shouts loudly.

"That's 'cause the toads didn't do this, genius." Felicity is inspecting the knots on Terrence's trap. "These 'ave the look of somebeast smartah than a toad could evah 'ope t'be, an' th'only beast out 'ere smart enough to do this is us....an' Dom." As the roar echoes over the swamplands, the Runner Sergeant freezes. "An' that would be Dom 'imself," she whispers. She will remain in the background of whatever conflict arises, protecting those under her command...and observing Dominik, should he show himself. She has a half-formulated plan in mind, and it needs a bit more information before she can put it into action.

Dominik does not, in fact, give chase. It would be a fruitless and meaningless as well as foolish, action...especially being that his vision is just a tad scrambled due to the rock hitting him square in the moosh. Standing at the mouth of his cavern, paw still held tight to his bleeding muzzle, he stares out into the marshes in the direction Konner had fled, his eyes completely welled with tears as is what usually happens when hit in the nose. Pulling his paw away, he peers down at the blood now soaking his fur, a displeased frown crossing his muzzle. His ears perk as he thinks he hears screams and commotion not too far away, though that is more than likely merely Konner fleeing and making an absolutely fool out of himself. All that food, wasted on that ungrateful welp. He had no clue that his various traps had worked so well, and it more than likely would have cheered him up quite a bit upon finding this out. With a growl and a sigh, Erg turns and disappears back into his cave. "...vil not...ever help again," he mutters to Blorg, sullenly. "Am bleeding? Yes. Do not laugh...vil toss out into cold."

Varus spots Konner, and he cups his paws around his mouth, to yell out at the crazed hare. "STOP MOVIN' NOW! THERE ARE TRAPS! WATCH YAHR BLOOMIN' STEP!" Will this work? Who know.

Konner trips in his frantic state and falls flat on his face, landing almost entirely into a mud hole. His nose, however, manages to break itself against a rock within the mud. The irony is lost on the panicked private, who wastes no time in struggling to get up and start his sprint towards the patrollers, a big smile on his face. "MAJAH!" He shouts through his bloody nose, not heeding Varus' words. "Can' express 'ow 'happy I'm t'see-" And immediately he falls into a trip, getting a second knock to the face to boot, out cold.

There's a grunt as Terrence hits the ground hard, and he slowly rises to his feet, dusting himself off. "Well, maybe we can ask whoever's making all that noise?" Mostly blind now, the sergeant points slightly to the left of where the hare disappeared. "And someone make sure Zolomon didn't bloody kill himself. He's not making any noise, which is odd for him."

"That would explain why the traps aren't tryin' tah kill us." Greg mutters after Felicity's information on the traps likely being from Dom. He carefully and slowly makes his way to help get Zolomon out of the pit so they can carry him to camp. "Looks like he's out cold." Greg reports once he can see in to the pit. He realizes soon after someone's coming and he quints for a minute before looking surprised to see it's Konner. He quickly grimaces as the hare trips at the last minute and is out too. He sighs faintly. "Maybe we should just make camp here where we've already run in tah everythin' and recovah ourselves."

Varus frowns, and sighs. Seriously. He makes his way carefully toward Konner's pit. "Doesn't anybeast lissen t' mah bloomin' ordahs anymore?"

By now the sun has set, leaving the marshlands in twilight. The golden light is more than enough to see until fires are ready.

At the bottom of the pit, Konner merely groans, still unconscious though obviously alive - even with the amount of blood on his face and body from tumbling down.

Pausing to look down at Zolomon as he's pulled out, the sergeant nods, recovering his spectacles with a muttered thanks. "I second that, sah." He says once he can see fully. There's a nearby grove of trees, and Terrence calls out, "Alright then, we'll make camp here! Standard grid ordah and all that! Some of you with spears take axes to get some wood for fires, and heed all the officah's ordahs - be careful were you step!"

Gregorian helps with checking the area for any more traps and collecting firewood in the process. He purposely setting a few off to disarm them. He also accidentally sets off one which springs a toad skeleton out at them but as his reaction is to punch which sends the head flying off of it he pretends he meant to do that. He grumbles as he works, "Dom much have been doin' nothin' but digging pit traps for days. I doubt there's a toad for miles with all this tah catch them."

Varus harrumps. "Right, Greg. Too many t' bloody well count, I wagah." Despite his age, he helps set his own tent up, feeling that it inspires loyalty in his subordinates if he works alongside them.

Terrence has been overseeing the set up of the central tents, the infirmary being first. A large fire is being started in the center as more hares start putting up the barrack tents. A deep cold has been settling in, and the sergeant shivers. "Sooner the kitchen's up sooner we can eat, wot." The light has faded to a dark purple now.

"Good sign that he survived alright aftah the battle," Greg talks as he brings back some firewood, "Must have been in the area a while too...why he hasn't come home is my question. We found Konnah at least...or he found us" he starts with assembling his own tend too "Food, a rest and perhaps once the surprise has worn off we can deal with furthah traps in an organised manah." he mutters as he carries on, setting up the tent and helping with whatever needs doing.

Varus has a fairly large tent, as befits his rank and his role as leader of this expedition. Now that it's set up, he supervises the rest of the camp, and orders the mess rations to be broken out. "Right lads, tonight we eat 'n' rest. Tomorrah, we find Dominik. Get to it, wot!"

"Yes sah!" The hares answer in a chorus. Terrence shares a tent with several others, nearby where the second division's tents are. As the sergeant wraps the blanket tighter around him, the sergeant wanders over to the major once the main work's done. "Well, do you think Dom'll be any more willin' to listen compared to last time, sah?"

Varus harrumps, and replies bluntly, "I doubt it. One c'n 'ope, but I doubt it. We're gonna stay out 'ere as long as it takes... Even if that means a month, Sahgeant. An' nobeast'll complain durin' tha' month, eithah..."

"Well, that Konner can tell us something I bet." Terrence mutters, sitting down against the tree. "I'm rather glad he's alive, wot. Didn't expect that."

Varus shrugs. "Eh, time will tell... 'E took a nasty bump t' th' 'ead there... Probably 'as a bloomin' concussion now. We'll see..."

"Probably." Terrence echos, resting his head back against the tree. "What I want to know is why all the bloody traps? They seem to be everywhere, wot."

Varus rubs his chin, as if thinking. "Keep th' toads out, I s'pose... That, or Dom really 'as gone completely bloody, bloomin' bonkahs, wot."

Terrence nods, pushing himself up. "Right. I wouldn't put it past him, wot." The sergeant rolls his shoulders, heading towards were his division is gathered. "Need to go check to make sure everything's in place by now. Good night sah."

Varus nods. "Good night, Sahgeant," he replies, before entering his own tent to turn in for the night.

Ol'random · The Long Patrol

Cool! Thanks, I'll edit that (I've been discovering I'm rather bad at reading calendars xD).
Right now I think either the 6th or 7th can work, depending on people's schedules

Ol'random · Logs

OOC: Two logs from the past weeks that I felt were too short to post individually.

Pvt. Cera,
Sgt. Terrence,
and Cpl. Zolomon, hares.

A few days after a promotion...

Cera is doing some training today. First she has done her sit-ups and push ups, and some running in place and now is working on some kicks and punches on one of the dummies set up in the room.

Since before the sunrise Terrence has been busy; having just come in from a short break after a run with some of the recruits, a water-skin in paw. He stands by the door, leaning against the wall to watch the hares in the room - including Cera, the sergeant realizes with some surprise, but he stays were he is, taking a long drink.

Cera is fairly good with her kicks, she could work better on punches though as she jumps backwards and does another punch to the dummy and then rubs her wrists a little. A small glance around the room to see what to work on next.

"A lighter jab might ease up the pain a bit, wot." Terrence dryly observes. "And a looser target - most beasts will move more with a punch than that dummy." The sergeant slings the water-pack over his shoulder as he comes over to the healer. "These are generally used for weapon practice, not paw-to-paw..."

Cera looks over and gives a quick salute when she sees the Sargent and nods "Yes sur...just getting some training in sur. I do admit I am a little rusty in training, but I think I am improving sur."

Nodding, Terrence replies, "I'd hope so. Though if I'm being honest, it seems to me most hares - myself included - have been a bit rusty in that area, wot! 'Specially considering recent events."

Cera nods. "The...toads...I have decided I dislike them and rather not see a toad again as long as I live, maybe we can even avoid the whole swamplands...maybe?"

"Maybe." The sergeant lets out a chortle. "But I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you, private." Terrence's expression grows more serious. "Toads have quite the nasty habit of bouncing back, and they positively adore causing us and other beasts trouble, wot."

Cera says, "But...why? I mean we done nothing to them then guess we were on what they see as their lands suppose."

Terrence looks at her over his spectacles. "Unfortunately I don't think I have an answer as to why, Cera. I honestly don't know if anyone knows why, including the toads, wot!"

Cera sighs as she nods, "Right....I best get to my room, still on house arrest." She groans "For a week yet." She walks off, she will be SO SO glad when she can have some freedom.

A week or so later...

There is a dark, overcast sky today, the heavy clouds above obscuring the sun and washing everything in a pale light. No rain or snow yet, however, and the wind isn't terrible - but it is chilly. Despite the day's cold a column of hares are making jogging downshore, leaving two lines of paw prints behind them. At the head is sergeant Terrence Cadwallader, stripped down to his undershirt to cool off from the long run, who takes a sip of water from the water-skin slung over his shoulder.

Zolomon has done some jogging and now watches the privates and recruits jog now. He yawns a little as its been a long day today.

"Quick pace! Hop to it!" Terrence calls back to the hares behind him, some of whom groan. "It's only been ten leagues, wot! You lot should be better than that!" The sergeant certainly isn't stopping anytime soon even as waves crash and the wind starts to pick up again.

Zolomon watches and grins. "I remember when I ran and jogged a lot, don't as much now."

The sergeant glances at him. "Well, corporal, why don't join us?" Terrence gestures behind him. "Need someone at the rear to keep the stragglers at bay. Should be rather easy for you, being so fast, wot." He adds with a grin.

Zolomon chuckles and decides to join them, he encourages a couple privates to get up and move a little faster "Just think of it this way chaps and lasses...a good hot meal afterwards awaits!!"

"If the weather hold up..." Terrence mutters, having heard the corporal. Indeed, the wind is colder than before and the sergeant feels it, shivering. In spite of this, he looks over his shoulder at the fourteen or so hares. "You heard Zolomon! A hot meal and drinks await us back at the mountain!"

Zolomon nods as he does need to slow a little for the hares and even jobs backwards a little making one private laugh a little before he does a sort of summersault and is going the right way again. "Moving also keeps one warmer." He states as he moves along.

Hearing the laugh, Terrence looks back again in time to see the summersault. "Bloody show off!" The sergeant laughs. "Not all of these hares as spry as you, corporal! Don't want to make 'em feel too bad, wot." He turns forward again, keeping an eye on the sea - in the distance one can just make out rain hitting the waves. "Come on! Double quick-step, or you'll get caught in the drizzle!"

Zolomon nods. "Just some fun." He may of went up in rank but he can still have fun once in a while, though he has grown in the fact he rarely does much what he use to see as fun, he use to do a lot of cartwheels or summersaults, going backwards....now not much at all. "Yeah cold rain isn't too fun to be jogging in, thar will be times you will have to jog in it though."

"Like right now..." A grim smile spreads across Terrence's face as the first few droplets hit him. Luckily, the mountain can be seen rapidly rising in the distance. "There it is! Home sweet home." The group had been jogging since before the sunrise and even the sergeant was beginning to feel tired.

Zolomon nods as he makes sure the privates stay at a good pace along the beach, "I think they did fairly well."

Shrugging the sergeant glances back at him again. "That depends on if we can make it back before the rain really kicks up." Being in sight of the mountain, Terrence isn't all that worried about being caught in bad weather, but he is still wary. "When we get back before you lot eat change into dry clothes and wash up. That's an ordah!"

Zolomon grins as goes a little faster, it does help the hares go faster now as well, one does fall on their face so Zolomon goes to help them up, makes sure they are ok and then jogs on so he is still in the back, no one else is behind so this is good.

With a sigh when he hears the recruit fall Terrence continues to lead the hares onward. "Bloody hoped we'd be beyond that by now, wot..." He mutters to no-one as the rain starts falling in full. It feels like daggers with how they're rushing towards the mountain, but it can't be helped.

Zolomon looks up, they are close to getting back now as he smiles. "Almost to the jolly entrance!! Let's go..chin up almost done."

Terrence has been keeping his head down and ears flat to lessen the impact of the water droplets while keeping watch on were the group is going, avoiding any patches of sand that seems too wet or loose.

As the rain starts coming down harder Zolomon frowns and then gets the hares to move even faster. "Inside...go on double time lads and lasses!" So he does have a commanding voice when needed, he's getting better at being a corporal.

Ol'random · The Long Patrol

Retrieval of Pvt. Dominik A. Kasimir

Open to: Everyone except recruits
Run by: Terrence and Dom
Date and Time: Saturday, November 23rd, 6 PM EST (11 PM GMT)
Location: The Marshlands

Sergeant Terrence has suggested a simple plan involving any hares ranking above recruit who wishes to volunteer to find and bring back the currently AWOL Dominik.

The plan is to set out for a small expedition to the swamp that will hopefully be finished by the time of the first snowfall in the area, with provisions that will last three weeks. Every hare that comes will bring full winter gear in addition to the standard kit, no exceptions.
After a suitable spot for a basecamp is found and established, hares acting as scouts will go out in pairs to search the swamp for the AWOL Private.
Once Dom is found, the scouts will report back to camp and a larger group of hares will attempt to make contact with him and convince him to come back with them. Failing that, there is a possibility of catching Dom off guard using either nets, traps, or simply surrounding him. It is to be made clear that absolutely no harm is to be done to Pvt. Kasimir during any of this, intentional or otherwise.
Major Varus has made it clear that if the weather turns and becomes too cold to continue the expedition will be called off and Pvt. Dominik will be presumed dead.

OOC Note: The whole expedition should only last until edit Saturday, December 7th or Friday, Dec. 6th (I will post the full details later), which is the day(s?) Dom'll finally be brought back to Salamandastron. In the two weeks between the start and end, the main idea is to have hares constantly run into boobytraps of pits, ropes, and nets or find toad skulls and other ghoulish warnings in the camp that keep appearing during the nights. Dom would never actively harm a patrol hare, so none of the traps are lethal - just annoying and tiresome.
To quote one of Dom's Room-pages, "There's only so many times one can fall into a pit or be strung up in a tree by their legs until it starts to get a little tiresome, haha."

Ol'random · Logs

Sgt. Terrence and Mjr. Varus, hares.

The past few weeks had been hard on Terrence; the increased workload and the shoes he had to fill have been taking their toll on the still young hare. The relatively new sergeant hadn't a free breath since he'd reported for duty before sunrise this morning, and even now sat filling out forms and finalizing work that members of his unit had overlooked or handed in during the day. Slouched as he was in a large armchair by the fire one could mistake him for being off duty from a distance, what with his disheveled appearance and a quarter empty glass of scotch in one paw. However, his uniform tunic, while unbuttoned and loose, was still on his person with the linen shirt beneath it wrinkled but still respectably clean.

One beast who's no stranger to hard work is Major Varus, though the workaholic has been known to kick back and take a break every now and then. And this is one of those times. He's still short-staffed, like always, and having to deal with duties he'd normally delegate to underlings makes him weary. Leaning against the bar, he says, "Th' best wine y'got, an' be quick about it." The Private behind the bar nods and hurriedly fills his order.

Terrence barely registers the major entering, so intent as he is on his work. A light clank rings out as he sets the glass down, letting the page he'd been holding fall into his lap. With a groan the sergeant takes of his spectacles and rubs the bridge of his nose, somehow sinking even deeper into the cushioned chair.

Varus harrumps when his glass is brought. Hs sips, and sighs into the glass. "Y' evah been in th' officah's lounge, lad?" he asks the private, who shakes their head. "Nah, don't s'pose y' have. It's comfy. Nicer 'n' this room. But mah fellow officahs are a stuffy bunch at times. No... Y' get a bettah feel f'r th' pulse o' th' mountain in 'ere, wot." He takes another sip, while the Private secretly wishes Varus would move on. "That, an' at this time o' night th' lounge is bloody deserted..."

Peering over the edge of the armchair to give Varus a look over his spectacles, Terrence chuckles. "Well, Majah, I daresay that's why I'm in here at the moment." Paperwork momentarily forgotten, he stands, grabbing his drink and wanders over to the older hare. "So how've you been, wot? I've been too busy to keep up to date with the goings ons around here, sah..."

Varus casts a glance at the younger hare. Knocking back his glass, he drains it dry, then back to the counter. "More, Private." He sighs, looking weary. "Trying to work out mah patrol, wot. I 'ad t' promote Felicity, for 'er valor, but not a one o' mah Privates left are Corporal material. That, an' mah othah Corporal, Dominik, is out 'eavens know where doin' 'eavens knows wot. An' poor Konner is seemin'ly deceased... I already 'ad t' inform 'is parents, aftah th' search pahties turned up empty... None o' this is fun." Weirdly, he seems little disturbed by the transfer of Zolomon. Who says leaders don't play favorites. "Looks like I'll need t' wrangle in anothah temporary Corporal like Maxim was mah temporary Sahgeant..."

"I see. Give my congratulations to Felicity when you see her, please. " Terrence sets himself next to the major and holding his glass for a refill. "So, well, actually, sah, I've had a few ideas concerning pvt. Dom and all that." He takes a gulp once the scotch is refilled, muttering in a dark tone, "Might even be able to recover poor Konner's remains while we're at it, wot."

Varus harrumps, sipping from his re-filled glass. "Aye. Well, yahr a sahgeant now. Y' c'n speak freely. Wot ideas 'ave y' got?"

"Ah, right." Setting the now empty glass down, the sergeant leans his side on the counter to face Varus. "Right, majah. Well, firstly, get a small group together - volunteers and certainly no recruits - and prepare for a long trip into the marsh." Terrence gives a grim laugh. "With winter coming on we, as I can't imagine you'd sit this out, should be prepared for the cold and wet. Layers, backup clothes, and all that. The whole shebang, wot! We'll need mostly runners and trackers to well, track Dom down, but we should be prepared to spend quite a bit of time out there. Very basic, but if we prepare it all is should remain simple. As for convincing the private to come back himself, well, I'd imagine you've got that covered, sah."

"Do the scouts know how much of the marsh burned after we set it all on fire?" the Major asks. "That would 'elp narrow down th' search area, I should think... Y' got a good plan there."

Nodding, Terrence adjusts himself on the seat. "Right - I'll be sure to give the scouts an overview of that, wot. Eh, private, can I have water?" As the sergeant's request processed, he gives a wry grin."Perhaps it is good. Anyhare could've thought it up, though. The biggest point is simplicity and carefulness - less things that can go wrong will go wrong."

Varus scoffs. "Don't sell yahrself short, Lad. I think y've th' makin's of a bloody good tactician, wot. Given time, an' experience..." His sips his wine, letting his words sink in.

Terrence simply raises an eyebrow at the praise. "Perhaps..." He takes a long draft from the water before turning back to the counter and staring down. "Certainly I don't have much experience in fighting, wot. Really that deal in the swamp were the second and third battles I've been in."

Varus mmms, studying the nearly empty glass in his paw. "Y' fought well f'r one so young. Y' do yahr fam'ly name proud, wot. You'll gain more experience ovah time though. It's just paht o' th' job..."

"Well, thank you, Sah." Terrence replies with a slight grin that doesn't match his eyes. "Even if I haven't done anything for the Cadwallader name, I expect I will in future, wot, whether or not I want to, eh?" There's a more full laugh this time, but it soon dies out and the sergeant tilts back the water glass to finish the liquid off.

Varus mmms. "Aye, well... In due time. It'll 'appen, yah'll be an 'ero, ev'rybeast will cheer, th' whole shebang, wot. It's 'appened t' me enough times. 'Ave y' seen all mah bloody medals?"

"Yes, very shiny, wot." The sergeant gives a cheeky smile thats far more genuine than before. "Daresay I've seen them every time we've been out on parade!" Terrence adds a wink for good measure. "Bloody sun always reflects off them all into my eye, if you pardon me saying so, sah."

Varus harrumps, and actually chuckles, which the usually serious older hare rarely ever does. "Aye, th' bloody things blind me, too. An' they get rathah heavy aftah awhile. That's why I keep 'em in mah chambah." He finishes off the last of his wine with a gulp. "Got 'em all back when I took more risks an' acted more darin' 'n' fool'ardy, wot. They used ta give out medals f'r that, y' know..."

Terrence looks at him over his spectacles. "Oh, I know sah." A small sigh escapes him. "My father had his fair share of them for exactly that reason, wot."

Varus harrumps. He knew the elder Cadwallader back in the day. The two had never particularly got along with each other. "Ach, well... We all 'ad it in our 'eads that we were unbeatable, wot. An' we fought some wicked, wicked beasts. Pirates, slavahs... Vermin all. But yahr fathah was, indeed, among th' most driven..."

"You could say that again!" With a snort, Terrence shakes his head. "Daresay that's a nice way of putting it, wot. Eithah way I'd never argue he or you, sah, don't deserve them. Going up against Pirates and slavahs and all the rest like you - and him - did certainly is worthy of it all."

Varus waves a paw. "Eh, we did wot we 'ad to. As we 'ave for countless generations, all the way back t' the days o' Lord Brocktree, our foundah..."

Terrence gazes at his empty glass, holding it up. "I suppose that's true, isn't it? And - I'm hesitant to say hopefully here - it'll continue to be that way, wot. Hopefully meaning of course the Patrol continues doing what it does to the best of its abilities, not that the slavahs and their ilk keep at it."

Varus chuckles drily. "Aye, I 'ope yahr right, Lad. I 'ope yahr right. The mountain's been through rough times before, it'll go through roughah times in th' future. We just need t' be ready, wot."

"Yes, yes we do." Terrence says as he sets down the glass. "And I suppose the first ordah of business for that'll be to get poor Dominik back, wot."

Varus grimaces. "Aye. But I fear 'is problems go far deepah th'n goin' AWOL. I fear it's psychological..."

Leaning back with his paws on the countertop, Terrence sighs again. "Wot, with calling himself 'Erg' and all that?" The sergeant shrugs. "There's very, very little we can do if he remains out there as he is, psychological problems or no. Practically speaking, Sah, even if he's from the north the in winter away from the shore in the marsh could very well be harsh, and even someone as experienced as him might be caught out in the cold - I don't think he has any propah gear with him, if I'm being blunt, wot."

Varus sighs, and shakes his head. "They only went out f'r a bloomin' trainin' exercise, so 'e was definitely not prepared f'r this upcomin' wintah weathah. 'Owevah, if he's not found before the first snow... That's when 'm callin' th' search off..."

A scowl plays across Terrence's face for a brief moment but is soon suppressed with a grim nod. "Understood, sah." He waves the bartender over again, raising his empty cup. "I think I need another round of liquah before the night's done, wot."

Varus holds his own out as well. "Aye, Private. More o' th' good stuff." He leans over and whisper to Terrence, "There's actually much bettah stuff in th' officah's lounge. Us fogies hoard all th' good liquah..."

"Of course you lot do!" Terrence slams back the drink with a chuckle. "If it was to be kept down here it be gone like that!" The sergeant snaps his fingers. "I inherited a few good bottles myself in the past, apparently - have yet to dig them out, though, wot."

Varus glances at the other hare. "Inherited? Wot was th' occasion, if I might ask?"

"Ah." The hare looks down at his feet, shuffling them. "Well, the demise of my father last autumn, for one." Terrence raises paw up. "Before you worry 'bout me I've long dealt with his death, sah. Left me a vintage from the season I was born with instructions to only drink it when I have a leveret of my own." He laughs, dryly. "That's probably the most expensive one, wot."

Varus ahs, and nods. "Sorry t' hear it, Lad. I remembah when mah own Da passed. Quite a long time ago now..."

Terrence requests another drink from the private. "Thank you, majah." As discretely as he can, he looks Varus over as if trying to figure out how old the hare is and to guess exactly how long ago that was. "Still have my mother, wot, but, well, I'm not entirely sure what she's up to these days."

Varus is very definitely approaching his senior years. His fur is going grey around his temples, and he's not nearly as trim in the stomach as he once was. One is left to assume it happened more than a few seasons ago, possibly when Varus' second eldest son, Adrian, was still a leveret... Or possibly even before he was born. "Yahr Mothah 'asn't spoke t' you yet?" HThe Major sounds surprised. "She's been 'ere at the Mountain this whole time. She would've joined mah group o' veterans that rescued you lot from th' toads, but I'm afraid she was unable t' make it..."

"Lets just say our relationship is less than ideal for now, wot, and leave it at that." Terrence has nearly finished the refill by the point, bouncing one leg absentmindedly. "She hasn't gone out of her way to avoid me, at least. Just kept quiet, least 'round me that is."

Varus frowns. "Doesn't aprove, eh?" Inwardly, he sighs. She's pushing her son away the same way he pushed Adrian. Clearly some great cosmic joke of the universe is trying to get the old hare re-evaluate his relationship with his son. He stares down at his empty glass, lost in thought.

Terrence exams his yet again empty glass. "Well, erm, eh, she hasn't approved much of anything I've done since I ran away when I was a leveret, wot."

"Aye, that'd do it," Varus agrees. 'Adrian didn't even do that, you old dunderhead,' he thinks to himself. "You came back, though..."

The glass has a small chip in the rim, Terrence notices, and he seems to find it quite fascinating. "Yes, yes it would." He finally answers, "And I did, I suppose - but that wasn't because of me all that much, wot. Poor brother died in an accident, wot."

Varus nods again. "I'm sure yahr parents didn't blame you, though..."

"I'd hope not, wot!" Terrence says, setting the glass down gently. "Some dumb recruit nailed him with a poorly thrown javelin. I couldn't have been blamed for the poor blighters death - I was at least a month away down south, wot..."

Varus hums, and rubs his chin. "That recruit's name didn't staht with a "Z," did it, by any chance?"

A rather mirthless chuckle escapes Terrence who shakes his head. "No, no, this was seasons before our good Zolomon decided to show up, wot - about five summers back. I nevah did look up the name of the hare who did, but I'd like to believe it really was an accident."

Varus frowns sharply. "I was retired at the time, so I'm afraid I know little of the incident. I'm sure the recruit was drummed out, 'owevah..."

"Well, it doesn't matter much any more, wot." The sergeant rests his elbows on the counter, ears falling back against his neck. "It really has been some time - I was barely a few seasons past being leveret at the time." Terrence looks over at Varus, his shoulders shrugging. "I'm afraid I haven't ever looked into the details myself - not that I want to, of course."

Varus nods grimly. "Good. Don't. An' that's an ordah. I may not be yahr direct superiah, but I am a superiah officah. If you look inta it, an' discovah that recruit was *not* drummed out... That 'e still serves 'ere... That 'e's one o' yahr superiahs, even... You know wot 'm bloody well sayin', Sahgeant..."

Nodding slowly in response, Terrence mutters, "Yes sah." Though he's soon laughing, leaning forward on his elbows and pushing the empty cup forward as if to ask for another drink. "Anyway, my luck might be that'll turn out the one who did that is a good friend of mine, wot, so don't you worry about me seeking vengeance and all that, wot, or looking any furthah into it - I haven't in the past seasons and I'm not about to, sah. I'm not as hothead as some othah hares 'round here, either, or at least I like to think I'm not."

Varus mmms. "Not strictly about revenge, son. Respect, too." He hands his empty glass to the bartender, seemingly through with drink for the night.

"Hmm. I suppose that's true, wot." Terrence eyes drift back to the large armchair were his paper work was left, and, after a deep sigh, the sergeant gets up. "Well, Sah, its been good talking to you, wot, but I have work to finish now. Have a good night, wot!" With a quick salute, he's off to pick up his things and finish them.

Varus nods. "Ach, I need to be gettin' t' bed mahself. Keep up th' good work, Sahgeant..." He makes his way out the door.

Ol'random · Logs

Erg (Dom) & Konner (myself), hares.

A day and night had passed since Dom...or Erg, as he now calls himself...had discovered Konner dangling from one of his traps, and the large hare had no choice but to knock him out to keep him quiet. He hadn't known of the ordeal the poor young hare had gone through before literally stumbling upon Erg's residence, and in all honesty, he really had no clue how absolutely unnerving his appearance had become, and so Konner's reaction upon his approach had been more than justified. Still, what was done was done, and Erg had brought Konner back to the small cave in which he now made his home. The large hare had tended to the other Patroller's injuries to the best of his abilities...he'd learned a bit of healing skill during his training while growing up, and so he'd finally been able to put said skills to use, using the resources he'd had on hand. It was a bit crude and not exactly the neatest of work, but it sufficed for what needed to be done. Upon waking, Konner finds himself on a bed of moss, which was much nicer to lie on than the stone floor. There is a blanket covering him, and he'd been positioned close enough to the fire so that its warmth is felt, but far away enough so that he doesn't, y'know...catch on fire. His broken leg had been splinted, his wounds tended to and cleaned, and there is a bowl and a mug sitting within the smaller hare's view, both of them steaming with some type of liquid. The mug smells like tea, and the bowl seems to be some type of soup or stew. It doesn't smell entirely terrible, and it's food. Erg is nowhere to be found, but Blorg...the toad skeleton Erg had positioned near the fire...sits nearby, his hollow-eyed gaze staring down at Konner's still form. He'd been positioned in a way so that it appears he is watching over Konner.

It's to that ghastly sight Konner finally wakes to - the injured hare has been drifting in and out of wakefulness for some time. The way his eyes seem to drift from one side to another and how his mouth opens only to say nonsense, its clear he's running a fever, especially by the heat coming from him. However, now, with the pale guardian leaning over him he comes to with a start, throwing the blanket off (towards the fire, no less) in his panic as he yelps rather loudly despite his sickness. Rolling quickly out of the makeshift bed, he manages to get upright, swaying from side to side as he takes in his surroundings before blackness crowds his vision and he slumps back to the bed, but not before remembering the sight of his 'rescuer' (captor might be a better word, the hare thinks rather grimly) in full toad-blood getup coming towards him through the marsh in the dying light, an image that is likely to stay with Konner for the rest of his days. He moans as he hits the moss padding, a paw rubbing his forehead as his eyes open once again. "Wot in th'blazes..."

Luckily for Konner, the thrown blanket happens to fly just over the smaller-sized fire, avoiding the flames and landing just on the other side, in a pile. It seems the hare had woken up during Erg's designated hunting time, hence his absence, and so the only sounds heard aside from Konner's baffled words are the crickets chirping just outside, and the subtle crackling of the fire. There is the occasional rustling of leaves, bubbling of swamp and breaking of sticks outside the cavern, but it is more than likely the local wildlife making their way through the area, as well as the normal sounds of the marsh. Konner has no way of knowing this really, so in his current state, any suspicious noise would likely make him jumpy. Still, the bowl of food and the drink still sit positioned near where Konner had been placed, appearing to be relatively fresh still judging by the steam rising from both. In the bowl, it appears to be a type of broth, with some type of vegetables floating in it. Oddly enough, there is also a small bowl and mug sitting positioned near Blorg as well. Huh.

His eyes fall on the bowl, narrowing. Konner isn't the most cynical of hares, of course, but in his current predicament with what he's seen the past weeks; well, let's just say he's skeptical of the offered food, at the very least. So he hare opts to remain were he is (especially with he pain shooting through his leg that's still in the a splint - reinforced and cleaned now) and look around. Surely he could use something for defense if that monster came back. "E'en wore 'are ears like some sortah trophy, wot..." Doing all that he can to void looking at the toad bones, his eyes settle on a rock. "Tha'll work..."

It seems while he'd been out, Erg had also been searching for a particular type of herb that would help to bring down Konnor's fever. The hare had been successful at both his ventures, a smaller toad carried over his shoulder, the herbs carried in a small pouch on his belt as he trudges his way through the marsh, back in the direction of the cave. Konner can likely hear the heavy footfalls approaching, especially due to the general quiet, and it definitely is a little on the unnerving side. Soon enough, the mouth of the cave darkens as a large, imposing presence appears there, and the body of the slain toad is tossed down a short distance away from both Konner and the fire. Erg's eyes scan the cave, and he notes the blanket lying on the ground as well as Konner lying there, awake now. The large hare's eyes narrow, and he points a paw at the bowl. "Eat!" His voice is commanding, and it echoes around the cave in the process. Making his way further in, Erg goes about his business, beginning to prepare the fever-reducing broth using a small stone. Removing the herbs and placing them on a flat rock, he begins to crush them into a powder, his back towards Konner as he does so. "...not nursemaid," he grumbles to himself as he works.

Konner had crawled half way to the rock when the big hare came in. He freezes, eyes darting back to the bowl when he hears the command, and twists to sit upright, setting his bad leg straight out. He gives what he believes is an easy smile (in reality its a grimace) and leans back against a large stone, trying to appear relaxed even as the stench of toad reaches his nose. "Wot? Daresay ya' a sight fo' sore eyes, eh?" Plan foiled, for now, the injured hare makes his slow way back to the moss bed and grabs the bowl, holding it up. "So, wot's in this anyhow? Tryin' t'fatten me up 'efore ya eat me, wot?"

Dominik smirks to himself as he listens to the injured hare, the larger hare working quietly for a few moments as he smashes up the herbs. Reaching over, he grabs a nearby flagon of water, pouring the herbs in before pouring the water in. He mixes it up with a stick, swirling it around til the concoction is well mixed. The offered question is ignored for the time being, as Erg finally turns and brings the mug over to Konner. He sets it down rather forcefully beside him. "Drink. Bring down fever." He gives Konner a glare for a moment, before he turns to attend to other business, tromping across the cave. Finally, his comment is addressed, in a low, rumbly tone. "If vanted to eat, vould have done so. Is not toad. Too bony." That last part was more than likely a terrible attempt at a joke. Or was it?
"Food is food. Do not vant to vaste, so...eat." he repeats, it still sounding like a command.

Either way, Konner responds with a laugh that sounds more like a bird dying, forced as all getout. "Righto!" He looks down at the mug, still holding the bowl. "Right away, wot." Scrunching his eyes closed, he takes a tentative sip from the bowl, then, after smacking his lips, he finishes it in one or two goes - he hasn't had a proper meal in at least three days after all. "So... this, well, toad, wot?" Setting the bowl down even as he picks up the mug, he peers down into the liquid. "Dare I say this smells like th'death."

Dominik gives a satisfied nod as Konner finally finishes what's in the bowl...it was basically a broth with a few vegetables Erg had found out in the marshes...various types of carrot and onion, as well as a leafy thing or two. All in all it was certainly palatable. The herb-drink, however, is a different story. Hey, they always say the things that taste the worst are the best for you, so... "If not drink, vil know vat death smell like." Perhaps that sounded a little more threatening than Erg intended. Still, it was true...fevers are not things to mess with, especially out in the middle of a swamp. "Drink." He points at the mug and gives Konner a scowl. "Sooner is better, sooner can leave." The large hare makes his way back over in the direction of the fire. He gives a smile in the direction of the toad skeleton. Obviously, the food and drink still remain near it, however, Erg seems to see things differently. "Blorg finish food before you. Is shame. Is slow eater...."

"Well, I think I already know wot bloomin' death smells like!" Konner wrinkles his nose - whether at the dead toad or medicine is hard to tell. But he complies, pinching his snout closed and taking a deep gulp. Making a face, he takes more. "Bah. Can't say ya cookin's th'greatest, wot." Complaints aside, he does finish the medicine as quick as he can. "Sooner I'm better, eh?" He wiggles his splinted leg. "Sorry t'tell ya tha'll be longer than ya expect." Setting the mug down, he leans back turning his head to the skeleton and not asking who Blorg is. Despite reclining the hare is clearly tense. "So, if'n ya'not gonna eat me, why are ya helpin' me? Ya've got 'are ears, an' a 'are tail, wot, so I'd assume ya're an 'are like me, eh?"

Dominik reaches down and removes the bowl and the mug from in front of Blorg, and the hare takes it back over towards the back of the cave where he'd put together the medicine. Setting them down on the rock shelf there, he mutters softly to himself; he is fully aware of the fact that he'd likely have the company of his chatty hare for awhile due to his leg...after all, he can't just send him back out into the swamp. Despite everything that's happened, he is still a Patrol hare at heart. He doesn't answer the question at first, busying himself with...just trying to look busy, it seems. Perhaps he is trying to avoid conversation, it was certainly a lot easier when his guest was unconscious. Heading back over towards the fire, he reaches down and picks up the toad skeleton, setting him in a different location on the other side of Konner. Finally, he grumbles..."Cannot leave hare out to die. Vould not be right thing...to do." He lifts his gaze and rests it on Konner. "Is not hare, like you. Is Erg. Toad-slayer."

Konner chuckles despite everything, covering his eyes with his forearm as he lies on his back. "Rrriiight. Whateveh ya say." The chatty hare decides to give up on conversation for a bit, as this 'Erg' has clearly lost his marbles (to him, at least), and instead turns on his side to stare at the bones. He reaches out a paw to prod the skeleton, pushing it gently away from him. "Already 'ave enough nightmares already, wot - don' need ya to add t'them."

Dominik's eyes narrow as Konner reaches out to touch Blorg. His tone hardens immediately as he gives the other hare a glare. "No. Do not touch," he warns. "Blorg vil move...ven Blorg vants to move." His arms fold across his broad chest, as he stares at Konner with that unnerving stare. It is pretty obvious that the imposing hare has a couple of screws loose, for sure, but in general he seems to be relatively harmless, in the current context of things. Once it is clear to him that Konner understands, he relaxes a little. "Is...sorry. Blorg...has been through things. Is...a little nervous...around strangers." Erg slowly rises from his seat, and begins to fuss about the place again, his back turning to Konner. The other hare can clearly see the empty sword-sheath that remains there, something that Dom had never removed at all, even having left his sword behind at the mountain. "Vil let sleep. Is needed, has been through a lot. Sleep...is good."

Ears flattening to the back of his head, Konner jerks away from 'Blorg', panic in his eyes. However, that gives way to something else as he hears the apology and subsequent explanation. "Oh. Sure he is." He looks back at the skeleton, barely restraining a laugh. "Sure he is." With that out of the way, the hare adjusts himself to fit more comfortably on the moss bed to gaze up at the stone ceiling with a sigh. "Sleep is good, ya say? Well, probably won' find any argument 'ere, wot."

Dominik gives Konner a glance back over his shoulder, giving him another stare, before he turns back towards the dead toad he had brought in when he'd arrived. It more than likely would be a good time for Konner to try and sleep now, as the large hare grabs a sharp stone and begins to, er...'process' the body of the toad, cutting into it with a disturbingly practiced ease. He'd spent most of his time out here doing this, and so it comes quite easily to him. Luckily, Erg is facing away from Konner and the fire, so not much of it can really be seen. It is pretty obvious what is happening though, as the smell isn't really the best, either. "Leg vas hurt very bad. Infected vounds. Fever. If not get caught in Erg trap, vould not have survived..." he states, rather bluntly.

"Oh, I knew tha', wot." Konner says from were he lies, still staring upwards. The repugnant smell from the toad causes him to gag a bit, but he holds it in. Sleep might be best for now, but the hare is going to have some trouble - the noise the toad body makes and the stench coming off it are distracting, to say the least. "So, well, Erg," Konner starts quietly, trying to take his mind off what is being done, "Ya accent, wot - think I knew a 'are, er, well, toad-slayer, who had one like ya, back at th'mountain..."

Dominik continues his work quietly for a little while, Konner's words going unanswered in this timeframe. Judging by his grim expression, however, the large hare certainly heard him. Perhaps he is thinking over his answer...perhaps he isn't exactly sure how to respond. Finally, after a long, tense stretch, Erg finally turns around. The front of the hare is spattered with pale yellow toad-blood, and he had freshened up the marks covering both his eyes. In his paws, he carries pieces of the toad's flesh, and he grabs a nearby sharp stick. Poking it through one of the pieces, he sets it over the fire to cook. "There are many vith accent, come from same places..." he replies, hesitantly. "Erg...is not only vun." He turns back away again to retrieve the rest of the dissected toad, a troubled expression crossing his scarred features.

The non-toad blood covered hare nods. "Oh. Righto." The tone of his voice sounds unconvinced. Konner wasn't aware of many of the hares who were around him when he was at the mountain on account of him not caring all that much, but he had heard - and seen - who he suspect 'Erg' is in action before. Paw covering his nose, the injured hare looks disgusted by both sight and sniff of the other hare. "Doesn' th'bloody smell get t'ya, wot?"

After awhile, the smell of the meat cooking makes the cave smell marginally better...it at least smells like some type of legitimate food. To the question, Erg tilts his head as he peers down at Konner with a look of curiosity. "...vat smell?" he asks, the hare either having become noseblind to it all, or...perhaps he really doesn't care. He'd been here on his own for awhile, and hadn't ever expected to have any visitors. He stares at the other hare, and Konner has the opportunity to get a better look at him being that he is fully illuminated by the fire. His torn and dirtied uniform is quite obvious, despite being quite filthy and mussed at this point, and he likely couldn't deny where he'd come from, as much as he tries. He more than likely just doesn't wish to discuss it. "Sleep," he repeats. "Erg...has things to do. Vil bring more food ven avake."

"Well, alright then." Konner mutters, closing his eyes. The smell is a lost cause. "I think when I go back ya should tag alon'." The hare is trying to accept his situation and doing his best to ignore the his surroundings. Soon, it pays off - he's drifting into sleep, breathing much more regularly.

Dominik makes sure to remove his food from the fire so it doesn't burn; he stares down at Konner, watching the other hare until he finally drifts off into sleep. "No," he mutters softly. "Dom is fine here. Vil stay." Lingering only another moment, the large hare finally ducks back out into the oncoming night, leaving the sleeping Konner with Blorg to watch over him.

Ol'random · Logs

Sgt. Terrence and Cpl. Zolomon, hares.

Zolomon is sat down in the library finally doing his first real tastes of paperwork and not long into it he soon disliked waiting this long and volunteering to do extra as, it won't be that bally bad, well it was bally well bad, but he is doing it as he is one to keep promises and if he waits, well it would just pile up.

In the far back of the room behind several shelves a quick glance is all one needs to tell that a hare's been digging through the old maps and reports very recently. On the floor surrounded by piles and piles of papers and books Terrence sits, adjusting his glasses as he looks over the particular work he had been searching for. Two maps are sprawled out next to him with an until today blank piece of paper nearby, which the sergeant has scribbling down note upon whenever the need arises.

Zolomon looks over at the Sergeant briefly before back to the pile of paperwork. He lays down a paper and goes on to the next as he reads it over and smiles a little. "Well least one is bally well short." He chuckles till he gets to the next one and frowns deeply, turning the paper to the left and right and sighs, and some are clearly hard to read it would seem as he mutters something and tries his best to look it over, he will have to get one one to rewrite that one, so there is now a 3rd pile, and the next one is an extra long report he frowns at, but precedes to read anyhow.

"Perhaps..." Is all the response the corporal gets from Terrence, his attention wholly on the writing in front of him - it seems to be about the swamps, at least going by the two maps. Taking a sip of tea that went cold hours ago, he switches over to yet another piece of ever so passible writing, muttering, "Daresay our cartography skills are rather dreadful, wot..." As if to prove his point, he taps an inconsistency between the two where one shows a small cave and another a lake. "Which one is it, eh?"

Zolomon looks, he never did really like maps much as he hmmms softly. "Maybe...it's a cave at the side of a lake and like it sometimes floods and ya can't see the cave then maybe?" He shrugs, it's an idea after all as there are times in summer water levels go down in places. He looks back to his own paperwork. "Ya know I now have de honor of knowing why others complained of paperwork so much, lot of reading, writing and have one a private needs ta rewrite for me and will have to go over it again. Some reports though are short, but then a long one shows up."

Looking up at Zolomon over his spectacles, Terrence gives a mirthless laugh. "You know why, though. It's not like there is anything to report, much less write pages and pages on, wot. Anyway," Grabbing the edge of one of the maps to peer at it more closely, he continues, "Not since that whole debacle here, at least." He narrows his eyes. "As for your lake theory, maybe - but on this the same lake is half a league away, wot!"

Zolomon says, "Odd...don't know then sur." He looks back to the report as he quietly finishes it and lays it aside in the done pike and gets another one. He starts to read it "As for paperwork, yeah it can be time consuming but one can't like, let it pile up or it would be a nightmare then."

"Yes, yes it can." The sergeant starts to write something down, finishing his cold tea with a grimace. "You'll get used to it, eventually. And keep in mind most hares ranking above you have to do more of it, wot." Terrence lets out a sigh, leans back against the bookshelf as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was hoping I'd be able to tell from all of this," he gestures to the mess of paper around him, "Where a place to hide away in could be found- but there's too many bloody inconstancies, both on these maps and in the blasted reports I've found."

Zolomon tilts his head. "Hide in sur?" He is curious and hmmms. "Maybe there is some other maps, or someone who knows their way around the swamp." He frowns. "Though the one hare that comes to mind is dead. He was a hare that was a slave to the toads for like 3 seasons, forgetting the name now sadly."

Terrence shifts the maps over, making room to lay out a report flat on the floor. "Think I might have the report he made right here - though wasn't he Cpl. Felicity's uncle? I didn't ever talk to him, really." He glances at Zolomon with a raised eyebrow. "Anyway, these two maps are the only ones recent enough to be relevant, wot. First one was made a season or so after I was born, the other after this report was made."

Zolomon nods as he thinks and then, "Flint, his name was Flint...a couple hares think got lost, and he got them out but was maybe hurt or something like that and brought back to the mountain, and, well stayed. He died before I joined up but I know his name was mentioned by some Redwall beasts who came to update the Badger Lord about when Abbot Lorimis died." He frowns. "I..don't know how he died though, it wasn't toads though."

Looking rather grim, the sergeant bows his head down. "That happened while I was away stationed as a lookout - Flint's death that is...As for Lorimis, though," A confused expression plays out on Terrence's face, "I'm sorry, but I honestly don't know much what an abbot is, wot. A leader of Redwall, right?"

Zolomon nods. "Suppose ya can look at it like that. Abbot is de main beast at de abbey, then ya have Champion and Badger Mother....thar is brothers and Sisters and novices and then just residents that live there, and beasts visit and at times stay during maybe winter time." He smiles. "My grandfather was Gatekeeper after he .....well after he was here that is."

"I... see." From the tone of his voice, it seems he doesn't quite. So Terrence turns back to his work, pulling another report from the pile. "I suppose there's not much reason for me to look further into Redwall, wot. Have enough on my mind already - though Pvt. Ewan is still there, wot, where does he fall in place among all those..." He pauses, searching a word that would summarize what Zolomon said, "Residents?"

Zolomon says, "Umm....Residential Long Patrol Hare?" He shrugs. "He stayed as, at the time he was unable to go back to full time duty, all the chaos and things that happen during that siege did something to him. I am unsure how he is now though, he does send reports every so often on how things are at the abbey and in Mossflower though."

"Right then." Terrence mutters as he reads over another report. "Not sure what I excepted. Of course a patrol hare living there would be called that, wot." He grabs his mug, going to to take a sip - then stops, realizing it's empty. He looks down at it, wiggling his nose. "Bah."

Zolomon says, "Maybe he will be able to come back here, then I am unsure of the plans for that or where he would be. We do have enough privates and recruits though I suppose." He glances at paperwork again, quietly finishes one report and lays it aside to look at another. "It's good to get these on file sur..." He frowns at the next report. "Oh..."

Setting down a report detailing how certain areas of the marsh freeze over, the sergeant gives Zolomon a long look. "Do we really?" Terrence says flatly. "It seems to me we only ever have a pawful of recruits and privates now days. And I'd say only half of those are fit for being in the Patrol, though when it comes to Ewan I had the impression he's of the other half..." With a sigh he adds, "I daresay it never seemed to me that he liked to be here, anyway, and I've heard he's been at the very least fine in that Redwall place, wot."

Zolomon says, "I am unsure as I said, maybe he will update how he is in a report." He states, "As for privates we have...some could do better your right, same for recruits but unsure how to help them do better." He looks at a report. "We also have two privates missing still. Konner and Dominik are still missing in the swamps, shouldn't we like, look for them sur?"

Face darkening, Terrence sucks in a breath. "Zolomon, unfortunately I'm rather convinced Konner was killed." The sergeant looks the corporal in the eye as he says, "He wasn't captured with you and the others, and he has yet to turn up here - considering that its been nearly a month since the training exercise and the attack, we have to assume the worst soon. His body wasn't retrieved though, so there's some hope I suppose, but there's many places in a marsh for someone to, well, disappear." He looks back down at the maps, shifting through the papers again. "Dom's the reason I'm taking the effort to go through all this, though - thought it might be worth looking for any place a beast could hide in the swamp..."

Zolomon nods. "I always felt a beast isn't dead till ya see a body, even if your told they are dead you need a body for proof in case it's some like...joke." He sighs as he decides to not go further with that train of thought. "Dom does seem like one to survive better than most, I do hope we get him back, and if possible Konner as well. Leave no hare behind is me thinking, wot." He reads over the report and double checks it, lays it in the pile to file off to where ever it goes, he still has other reports and a report to write about, well reports.

"Joke?" There's a flare of irritation to Terrence's voice. "No hare of the Long Patrol would - or should - joke about someone being dead. Ever." He calms, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. "Don't get your hopes up Zolomon. A hare's more likely to be found dead the longer he's missing, and only half the time are bodies retrievable or recognizable - battle's a messy business. Most times it's proof enough when someone is dead if their comrades report it, wot, but Konner's not officially dead, yet. Dom is certainly alive - saw him run off myself after ripping a toad clean in half... that northerner can take care of himself, least for a little while."

Zolomon frowns. "Sorry sur. Thar was one time a hare did joke on another hare being dead, found out later they were just hanging out in Halyard.course the same hare ended up leaving de patrol later on. That was a rather interesting situation, probably a report on it somewhere in the files." He smiles at the fact Dom is likely alive somewhere. "Yeah..Dom is fairly strong, and...well scary at times too."

Terrence simply nods in response, going back to his work. "Well, if a hare ever jokes like that again, I'll have their bloody hide." The sergeant starts to straightening the reports and maps around him, putting several back on the shelf. "Wherever Dom is right now, we can't do much - to be quite frank, most hares aren't in the best shape to go out for a search party, especially if the toads and whatnot attack again. It does absolutely no good to lose more hares than the one you're looking for, wot. We should be at the very least cautious."

Zolomon nods. "Not to worry I have no plans to go look, when i first joined de patrol I likely would of but I feel I have grown a lot since then. Think before act, better skills on some things as well. Maybe in a couple weeks or longer we can plan something or hope he decides to come back on his own maybe. Colder weather should slow the toads I would think anyways. I am even gonna take less trips to Halyard than I use ta."

"Colder weather didn't exactly stop the toads last time, wot." Terrence, having finished tidying up, stands, mug in paw and notes in the other. "Halyard is out of our control at the moment, so you bally-well shouldn't go there except on leave. Besides, the mountain has a better stock of drinks and food and all that. Anyways, waiting longer than two weeks might be too long - no matter how well Dom does on his own, winter is setting in and will bite soon. I do have the beginning of a plan to retrieve Dom that I'll give to the good Majah, wot."

Zolomon nods. "Major Jinora....yes. I am sure she will know whom to pick for the mission and when would be a good time to act."

The sergeant nods, setting the mug down on a nearby shelf. "Indeed, though we'll see what happens - the longer we wait the more likely Dom'll kick the bucket..." Terrence leans against the bookcase, adjusting his spectacles. "Can't say I'll be thrilled to go, wot. Private Dominik didn't quite seem all there in the head, if you know what I mean..."

Zolomon says, "I wonder whom she would send, most likely not just anyone."

"Doesn't do anything to wonder, wot." Terrence says, pushing himself off. "Might be volunteers only. We don't know - but I'd doubt any recruits would come along." Remembering to grab the mug, the Sergeant starts to head for the door. "Anyways, Zolomon, I'll be off - need to get this to the higher ups, wot."

Zolomon nods as he gives a quick salute. "Course sur...and I would say no recruits at all."

The sergeant only nods in response to Zolomon, not saying another word as he leaves.

Ol'random · Logs

Montamillion wrote:

(A bit of a correction...this actually took place about a week or so after the toad incident, hence Konner spending six days out by himself in the swamp til he 'found' Dom's trap, haha. And I made some typos in there as well, ugh. Like in the last post, it's supposed to be 'companion', not 'compation'. XD Thanks to Terrence for being awesome and spoofing poor terrified Konner!)

Right! I'll correct what typos I find!
About that first post however, I had meant that Konner spent the week in the swamp after the training day, not the rescue
I'll edit the 'synopsis' to make it more ambiguous, though

Ol'random · Logs

Dominik and Konner, hares.

A little while or so after Erg ran off into the marshland...

Some distance away from the sand and surf surrounding the giant fire mountain known as Salamandastron, beyond the now-smouldering marshes and the charred and blackened remains of the toad village, a lone, shadowy figure trudges along slowly in the darkness, only the occasional patch of moonlight shining through the trees as a source of light. Still, the hulking figure seems to know where to go, knowing where to step to avoid the various patches of bog, and he looks to be traveling relatively easily considering the circumstances. As said figure ventures into a patch of the pale moonlight, it dimly illuminates the distantly familiar features of the Long Patrol Private once known as Dominik, now known as Erg.

The at-one-time ruggedly handsome young buck is almost unrecognizable in his current state, his long ears drawn back against the back of his head, scars peppering his brow and his cheeks. His once well kept mahogany fur is covered in dirt and muck, but the oddest thing about him is the warpaint that streaks his features; it is pale yellow in color, and appears to be made from toad-blood. Over his shoulder, he is carrying...something. Upon further inspection, it appears to be the body of a toad, freshly slain not a half hour ago. Eyes narrowing and nose twitching as he scents the air, the large buck pauses, eyes scanning his surroundings. He'd thought he heard a noise nearby, and being that he is extremely close to the small cavern he'd adopted as his new home, it makes him extremely wary and cautious.

The buck is a little more intelligent than he's given credit for, as he had gone through the process of setting up a pawful of booby traps that peppered the area around the cave. It was generally for his protection and to keep outsiders out, but then also it was another way of catching his food. Hmmming, once he assesses the situation and realizes that it was nothing, the large hare trudges onwards towards his humble abode. Dinnertime!

Konner has had a very, very bad week. The recruit had been one of the first to go down after the toads ambushed their doomed training party, falling to a rather hefty rock to his leg. He had managed to avoid being captured by the slimy things by rolling into a pool of muck which nearly drowned him, and, once the main group of toads had left the area, moved to the other side and taking shelter in an old rotten trunk. Once he pulled himself out (losing his boot in the process), the hare had had the presence of mind to stop the bleeding and make a make-shift splint out of reeds and sticks. He'd also saved his pack, so he had something relatively clean of swamp-mush to put on, waiting for rescue. Two days later he ran out of clean water. By day three the green-brown swamp was looking quite lovely. By day five he had indulged, developing a fever for his efforts.

Day six, however, was the absolute worst - a fire had sprung up and set fire to what remained of his gear! With all the haste he could muster, the recruit pulled himself out, and, with a look of horror, realized everywhere was on fire. Since then, he had been making his way slowly through the marsh, inch by agonizing inch, and his leg screamed in agony every time he moved.

Of course, his week was about to get worse, especially now that his good leg just so happened to brush a pile of leafs and worms as he struggled to get by it. And so with a loud yelp and a whoosh Konner was hoisted by his ankle into the air to dangle.

Approaching his new home, Erg ducks inside the cave, setting down the burden he'd been carrying over in the corner. Grabbing the piece of flint he'd kept handy nearby, the buck picks up a small rock and begins striking the two together; soon enough, he has a small fire going in the area he'd designated as such. As the cave is slowly illuminated by the growing flames, eerie shadows dance upon the walls of the cave, the creepiest being one that looks oddly enough like...a toad. Well, -technically- it is a toad. At least it had been at one time. The dim, flickering light soon reveals what seems to be the cleaned skeleton of a toad, set up and positioned as if it was sitting up on a log and enjoying the warmth of the fire. Its hollowed out eyeholes stare off into the distance, the brief gusts of wind outside making a soft whistling noise as they occasionally sweep through the cavern. "Hrm," Erg grunts as he lowers himself onto the ground, before a smile flickers across his weathered face. "Vas good hunt today, Blorg. Should have seen. Didn't stand chance." He chortles. "Ve...eh?" He blinks, ears going up briefly as he hears a yelp from outside, and the telltale sound of one of his traps being triggered. "Vait here. Vil return." A grim expression replaces the previous joviality, and the buck pushes himself back up again, ducking out into the marshes as he trudges in the direction of the noise.

Left to spin in the air and ponder his morbid fate, Konner watches the world twirl around him upside down, with the tips of his ears barely scraping the soft ground below. Of course the recruit had tried to reach both it and the trunk, but, after much swearing and struggling, everything proved to be just out of his range of his paws with the only reward for this being more spinning. As the blood starts to rush into his head all the recruit can think is thank goodness it wasn't my bad leg. The sun is clouded over now, what little warmth it had disappearing from the marsh. "Great. Want me to bloody freeze to death, don't you?" Konner says to the heavens, craning his neck to look up. Another curse is muttered, accompanied by a shaking fist.

While the recruit is massively disoriented from the mix of pain, dizziness, sickness, and the cold, his hearing is mostly intact - his ears pick up something large approaching at a quick pace, and all Konner can do is wait in horror till he is turned towards the direction the noise is. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!" The scream rips itself from his throat as he starts to thrash wildly, having seen the massive form of what he can only think of as a monster come towards him.

Judging by the loud noises and curses coming from the direction he is heading in, Erg is assuming that yes indeed, he did happen to catch...something. Judging by the speaking cadence and general lack of croaking though, the odds that it is a toad seem to be very slim. Still, it is someone trespassing near his home, and he couldn't afford to have that. He knows there are occasional bandits who happen to get lost while wandering through the marshes, and it's more than likely that's who his guest is. As he gets closer, he sees the form dangling there just above the ground, and the large hare stops for a moment. With his ears folded back and his clothing covered in grime, the buck does indeed appear to be some sort of monstrous creature, and he does not help that he emits a low, rumbling growl as he approaches Konner. "No trespass," he booms, paws clenching at his sides as he takes a step closer to him. He stares down at the upsidedown hare, glowering at him as he gives him only a moment or two to explain why he is there.

"AAAAAAA-" The recruit is inconsolable, flailing his arms around around. "AGH! DON'T EAT ME! I PROMISE I WONT TRESPASS AGAIN!" Konner falls into just babbling now, "Ididn'tmeantoI'llnevereverdoitagainohgoodnesspleasehavemercy!" His eyes shoot up the clouds above the toad-killer, clutching his paws together, "Ifthis'forth'timeInickedthatcakeI'msorryohgoodnessI'msorry!"

Dominik's expression turns from one of annoyance and anger to one of...confusion...as he continues to stare daggers down at Konner. His arms fold for a brief moment as he ponders what exactly to do with this babbling, whining creature. From all intents and purposes he appears to be a...hare? Though his condition doesn't look to be the greatest. The idea that they may have sent someone out to search for him doesn't even enter into his mind at all, and he slowly paces back and forth in front of Konner as he appears to be pondering what exactly to do with him. "Can cut down, toss into svamp..." he booms. "Can leave here, for night creatures to feast on. Hmmm. Vat should Erg do..." He rubs his chin with a paw as he stomps back and forth in front of the slowly swinging creature.

From all that Konner can tell, what with the blood now pounding in his head and the upside down view, the creature before him is anything but a hare. He's just incoherent now. "Toss-no-Konner-eep-please-please-please-oh-please-no-no..." The monster's accent might have been recognizable to the recruit if it weren't for the circumstances. "AaaaaaaAAAAAAAGH!" Seeing that 'speaking' failed to get through to 'Erg', Konner tries wailing again. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Dominik is quickly losing patience with the terrified young hare, his expression darkening as he comes to a stop in front of him again. Konner likely chose the absolute worst thing he could have done, and that is make so much noise that could possibly draw attention to Erg and his location. Despite his reputation among the toads that mill about in the surrounding marshes, they more than likely would love to try and catch him unawares. "STOP!" he growls, brow furrowing. "Noise!" As Konner continues to scream, Erg seemingly has no choice, and he rears back, swinging a heavy punch down at Konner as he hangs there in an effort to knock him senseless. He hadn't been getting anywhere with the way things were going as it was, so he'd have to try a new tactic.

"AAAAAAAAAA-" The recruit's shriek is cut off by the single blow, and his thrashing ceases. From the way his none-tangled leg and arms hang uselessly as he bounces back to hit the tree, it's clear the massive hare knocked him clean out. His limp body swings back towards Dom, now.

Dominik gives a sigh, his head shaking slowly as he stares down at the hare before him. He is able to get a good look at him, and he notices his various injuries...not to mention the hare's uniform. A moment later, Erg reaches forward and undoes the rope around Konner's ankle, setting the hare down gently on the ground before he re-sets up the trap. Once he is finished, Erg returns his attention to the unconscious Konner. Leaning down, he carefully hefts the hare up onto a shoulder, and he turns and trudges his way through the marsh back in the direction of his cavern. "Is not nursemaid," he mutters to himself. "Is toad-slayer. But...must help." He brings Konner into the cavern, setting him down near the fire, far enough away so that he is not singed. Having had plenty of training in what to do in case of various injury situations, he goes about gathering up various things. "...Vat should I do vith him, Blorg?" he asks his skeletal companion. Blorg...just sits there.

The unconscious hare doesn't do much more than Blorg, slumping to the ground once he's set down. A low groan escapes, but that's about all the signs of life Konner shows, beyond his ragged and weak breathing.

Ol'random · Logs

Pvt. Cera,
Lt. Gregorian,
Sgt. Terrence,
and Cpl. Zolomon.

Immediately following the promotions:

Zolomon chuckles. "Work in de library cant be all that bad, right and if I had something important ta do I am sure he let me do that at least."

Giving a mock-severe look over his spectacles, Terrence replies, flatly, "You might say that now, corporal, but you don't know just how many things are there to organize and rewrite, wot!" The sergeant raises his paw, drink finished, clenching and unclenching his fingers. "I don't think I'll ever quite recover from the amount I had to copy from those dusty ol'archives, wot. But if you're so eager I'll be sure to mention it to the good recorder, wot!" Cracking a wide smile, he adds. "But I won't do that..." He winks. "...Yet."

Gregorian hehs at the question of whether he's off duty. "Well, technically the majah gave us all the day off so for tahday at least I suppose I'm just Greg...Though I may use the time tah catch up at the forge so...Mastah smith Greg for the day or wotevah title they've given it these days?"

"Master Smithy Greg?" Terrence offers, before shaking his head. "No - that sounds a bit, well..." The sergeant leans back on the stool as his glass is refilled. "What eveh I'm supposed to call you today, Mr. Lieutenant-Mastah-Smith-Gregorian, I think this'll be the last day I'll be able to say anything but 'sah' to you for a while yet, wot."

Zolomon listens as the two talk and gets his 2nd ale and drinks it slowly. "I wonder how soon new promotions get paperwork."

"Forge mastah?" Greg offers instead as he thinks about it before he shakes his head. "Sah seams a little easiah on the syllables. Though I had started tah like bein' called Sarge. Yah turn for that now, Sarge." he chuckles and rests back with his drink before laughing at Zolomon's question. "I'll give yah some right now if yah like, I've got a pile waitin' for me still."

A sudden look of horror briefly flashes on the 'sarge''s face, "Oh goodness." Terrence says, shaking his head, "Sarge brings to mind the likes of the ol'drill instructor - always thought it was suited to grizzled veterans like yourself, sah!" He adds with a chuckle, "Meaning no offense, of course." Taking a sip of his drink, he mutters to himself, more thoughtfully, "I daresay I'll be like that soon enough, wot. But I've got quite a few seasons to go before I can say I'm anywhere near being grizzled or a veteran. I'm still in my prime and will be for a while yet, wot!"

Zolomon tilts his head at the offer of paperwork, he seems to try and find an excuse to not accept it and then speaks, "So..paperwork could be from blooming any division or..just ya own?"

Cera peeks her head into the room, she needs a break and decides to slip into here for one..what she washed a lot of dishes and dried dishes and even did a lot of sweeping, a break is good right?

Gregorian raises his eyebrows and looks amused as Terrence digs himself a metaphorical hole. "Old, grizzled and out of my prime. Yah really paint a picture there." It's a pretty accurate description of Greg to be fair. He has been in the patrol longer than most of the privates and quite a few of the officers have been alive at this point. He gives Zolomon a shrug. "Much like bein' a private yah do wot yah told but when it comes tah things like trainin' yah get tah help out...I'm sure Terrence can teach yah the ropes, I skipped the Corporal job myself."

The new sergeant can only offer Greg an apologetic smile, fully aware of the hole he's dug for himself. "To be fair, sah, I'm sure you said the same when you were my age, wot!" That may have made everything worse, so he adds a wink for good measure, thankful for the slight change in subject. "Yes and no, corporal. Depends on who tells you to do what, really." Terrence says over the rim of his glass. "Either way, you'll be doing some of the work for both the good lieutenant and I, wot! Or at least making sure that the privates get their reports done in time - and are legible, of course, that's the absolutely dreadful part of your job now, wot." He sees Cera out of the corner of his eye, but doesn't comment on wether she should be out and about free of probation, yet.

Zolomon nods. "Of course...like if you have too much paperwork, do some of yours maybe and look over reports of privates, got it." He notices Cera but doesn't say anything to her, he isn't sure what division she is in even now.

Cera sighs as she is seen. "So..hallo...what's going on anyways, ummm..I can be in here right?" Maybe not but her room is boring as she goes to sit down, she chuckles at paperwork. "I have no paperwork..."

Gregorian raises his eyebrows at Terrence. "Well I just don't know if I can remembah back that far, it was such a long time ago." he jokes, thankfully taking his age well. He nods along to the description of the corporal's work before his attention is directed to Cera, "Are yah currently supposed tah be somewhere else?"

"Don't worry, Zolomon, I won't be that evil to you." Terrence is rather glad Greg took it so well. His drink finished, he turns it over, cutting himself off. The sergeant glances over at Cera, saying, "If I remember, sah, Cera here was recently under house arrest for all the stunts she pulled during training, wot. Don't know how long it was supposed to be for, though..." He'll let his superior deal with the issue if it has to be dealt with, but... "Well, sah, technically we and the corporal are all off duty so it might not be our problem to deal with, wot!"

Zolomon looks over at Cera, he wasn't there when Cera was given her punishment so he can?t really put in a word about it. His attention instead goes over to the Lt. and the Sergeant. "Yes sur. Understood. I am willing to do some paperwork today if needed sur, just let me know if any needs done and I shall do some. I also plan on helping some privates and recruits with archery training as well sur, if that's ok with both of you that is." He will wait for a reply to his questions and give his full attention to the other two officers.

Cera frowns. "Not like I am going off to Halyard and..my room is boring, wot am I supposed ta do like..stare at the walls when not training?"

Gregorian sighs heavily at Cera's response. "That is not an answah tah my question. Yah have been punished. By his lordship no less. It's not supposed tah be fun and yah don't get tah decide when yah don't feel like doin' it anymore. So long as yah in the patrol yah do wot yah ordered, no mattah wot that is. That is somethin' that yah need tah get used tah again...Now, I have been given the day off so I'd rathah go spend it with my daughtah than have tah sit around makin' sure yah doin' wot yah supposed tah be doin' so if yah ordahs are that yah supposed tah be somewhere else right now then go. If not then pick up a broom and start sweepin' here."

Terrence looks the corporal over. "Actually, Zolomon..." He begins, resting an elbow on the bar, "If it's fine by the lieutenant here, I have some ideas about the training- wait to train till tomorrow and just relax while you can today, corporal." The sergeant smiles. "Take that as an order, wot. Also, I know you're quite the expert when it comes to bows, however I'd like you to start training with the recruits and privates with slings and javelins. Bows and arrows are great when they're used by some beast like yourself who knows how to use when, but arrows are hard to come by when one's out and about patrolling, and can run out if you aren't careful - and they're bloody well difficult to use, wot! Stones are everywhere, and easier to transport to boot! I expect you won't have any trouble becoming a crack shot with a sling like you are with your bow." While the bespectacled hare didn't like her tone or choice of words, he says nothing on the subject, letting Greg handle it.

Zolomon nods and gives his full attention to the sergeant, "A day off sounds great sur, in fact very good." He smiles and grins at the mention of longbows, he thinks quietly before replying again, "I can train the privates with slings sur and try out javelins as well." He clears his throat, "Your right though, knowin' how ta use other weapons is a good idea, like I do know how ta use a saber, though I do plan on getting better skilled with it. Maybe tomorrow after some morning training drills we can discuss training ideas then?"

Cera folds her arms over her chest and mutters to herself, "Get a broom and sweep..talk about bossy." She then just sits down, the broom is, well, not gotten.

Gregorian presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily as he closes his eyes. He sets aside his drink and gets up, heading towards Cera and looking irritated. "Get up. I was havin' a good day until yah and yah attitude showed up. I don't care wot yah problem with followin' ordahs is this time. I gave yah an option that didn't involve returnin' straight back tah yah room when I didn't have tah so yah can eithah do as yah told or yah can get reported for insubordination again. I frankly don't care which and don't want tah deal with yah."

"Exactly my thoughts, Zolomon." Terrence says in a warm voice, nodding. "And while we're both out of uniform and off duty you can..." Having heard Cera's remark, he starts to trail off. "...Call me..." He stands even as she sits and Gregorian tells her off. "...Terrence." Finishing slowly, he turns to face the healer fully, his face unreadable beyond a slight twitch of his eye. "Private." The tone is cold. "The lieutenant suggested it to you, and is being rather kind right now, wot. Not what I would refer to as 'bossy'. However." The sergeant is now glaring at her over his spectacles. "I'll be bossy to you now: If you're supposed to be staring at a blinkin' wall you will bloody well sit in your room and stare at it. If you're told to sweep, you sweep. And when you talk back - like you just did - you can sweep this entire mountain." Walking over to the broom he grabs it, shoving it towards the healer. "Get to it. While Lt. Gregorian left it open, I will report you. Understood?"

Zolomon nods and now also looks over at Cera, but he lets Terrance and Gregorian handle the Private, but he does pay attention still as since he is a Corporal now, he will need to deal out punishment at times most likely. He stays quiet and alert as he watches, listens and learns.

Cera ears fall to her back as she has way too much attention now and slowly stands up.She frowns as she takes the broom. "Sweep...that much sur?" She quickly decides it's unwise to talk back as instead she just nods. "Yes..sur...right away, sur." She backs up a little, a deep breath and then starts sweeping the room she is in first.

Gregorian has a habit of giving second chances, it's something he's currently reconsidering as he gives the Terrence a single nod of approval after his threat. He nods once to Cera "The entire mountain." he agrees with the Sargent's orders. He watches her make a start before he retreats back towards the others. "With that evening spoilin' note I am goin' tah pick up a new uniform and collect my daughtah...who will no doubt be bettah behaved than some patrollahs." he mutters as he heads for the door.

Letting out a long sigh, Terrence watches her sweep for a moment or so. "Well, good luck, sah." He calls after the retreating lieutenant, before going back to the sweeping hare. "One more thing, Private Collins," He uses her last name, voice softer and calmer, "Do you understand why you've been punished?"

Zolomon watches Gregorian head off before he speaks, "I hope he finds some time to relax." He glances over at the other two, he is still gonna relax the rest of the day and likely get up early to see what paperwork he can maybe help out with.

Cera sweeps quietly but does reply when she is questioned "For..backtalking and mumbleing." She says quietly, she will sweep the whole mountain and likely have sore arms, and go to bed late tonight only to have to wake up for morning training, but she is ok with that she just has to get this grumpiness gone best she can anyways.

"And for disobeying orders and pushing your fellow hare, remember?" The remark doesn't have much bite beyond the words, especially with the sigh given by the sergeant. "The reason those three things got you in trouble, Private Collins, is because our job - yours, mine, and Zolomon's - is that of a patroller. We aren't some spineless militia from the woods, we're the Long Patrol of Salamandastron, and that means something. We have to be ready to fight at a moments notice - while you do like training and all that, Collins, that isn't enough alone to keep you alive in a battle. It doesn't matter how great a runner, fighter, or healer you are if you're alone. You need the other hares here as much as we need you - and pushing, back talking, and all the rest doesn't help that bond at all. It's only by working together that you -we- can be a good patrol and live through a fight, wot." Eyebrows furrowed, Terrence leans on one leg as he looks over his spectacles, "Do you understood that, Cera?"

Zolomon finishes his ale and stands deciding to offer some advice. "Together we stand, divided we fall." He keeps it short and simple.

Cera frowns, then nods. "Understood, to try and get along with everyone and not push them away. I..I guess being alone for like 4 seasons, got to me..sur...surs" She looks away and then back up "I'm..sorry." That took a lot from her, but the words got out ."I will try my best to do better."

Nodding in agreement to Zolomon, Terrence looks at Cera with more concern now than anger. "I can imagine it would - did you know I was stationed by myself out on some rock for nearly seven seasons? Back when I was a private." Another sigh comes from the sergeant. "And you survived the disaster in Mossflower. I accept the apology, and thank you, Cera. I fully expect you will- as for the sweeping, you can just do the three main levels. Avoid the cellars - sweeping down there won't do much good, at any rate, wot. Afterwards," he adds, giving her an ever so small smile, "I suggest you should please apologize to Lieutenant Gregorian for today and all the other times you may have said something to him - he works harder than the two of us, wot, and doesn't deserve any more headaches. He's a very good hare, if I do say so myself."

Zolomon frowns remembering the events that happen in Moss flower, he likely seen more than some of the other hares did. He speaks quietly, "Greg likely needs less paperwork too. I think I will offer my help, in the morning after some training drills and after we speak Terrance." He looks at the hare maid and speaks again, "It...may not seem like it now but things will get better, even if it's slowly, things will get better."

Cera nods again. "I..I will, or least will try and tell him I am sorry, he seemed fairly...upset with me." She will wait till she is dismissed and finish sweeping in here before she heads off to other rooms and levels.

"Well, Zolomon," Terrence plops himself down next to the corporal once Cera leaves, "I think I need another drink - you want one too?"

Zolomon watches the hare maid sweep and then turns to Terrance and smiles as he sits down "Sure, why not"He chuckles, "I will have ta get use to being a Cordial now, but for now time to relax and have a good ale."

"Ale, cordial, scotch." Terrence passes him a glass with a wry chuckle. "I suppose you should. I need to get used to being a bloody sarge now, wot!" As he takes a long drink from his own, the sergeant casts a sideways glance at Zolomon. "Say, you were part of those Mossflower beasts that came with the one-eyed badger that came here the summer before last, right?"

The new corporal sips his ale, the 3rd one he has had today and looks up at the question when asked. "One eyed...OH! " He smiles. "Xandy...yeah, wot about him? And yeah me and like, let's see...3 others came up for help to defeat Ormaz and his group."

Terrence shrugs. "Nothing, just seeing if my memory serves me right. Ormaz was the beast all our hares died at war with, right? I was one of the hares who met you lot back then." Downing the rest of his drink, he sets down the glass, turning to the corporal. "If I'm being honest, mate, I daresay I didn't think much of you when I first saw you back then - but now I'm glad we'll be working together, wot."

Zolomon thinks back on that time and sighs a little remembering some friends, he then smiles. "Guess I have matured a lot since joining de Long Patrol. I was a good archer and fast runner even then." He smiles at a thought. "I do miss Mossflower, but I am glad to be in the Long Patrol and would never dream of leaving it."

"Well, that's good, eh?" Terrence says with a light snort. "We need all the help here we can get. You mentioned using javelins for training, wot, and I wanted to say that you should use them - I think every runner should know how to use slings and javelins, alongside some blade of some sort. A knife or dagger or even sword, wot! I'm not one, so I'm not sure which is best for the act of running itself, though - I imagine you want to keep light, right?"

Zolomon nods as he listens. "Ya can throw a javelin so maybe a runner, runners can be quick on the foot paws. I am best with de longbow and." He admits, "I do need to work on saber more, and as ya said sling is fairly easy to use."

Nodding, the sergeant looks down for a minute, thinking. "I think another thing to work for every hare - runners, fighters, and healers - is how to use a spear and dagger. You can focus on the runners with the slings and javelins and sabers, but overall I think every hare should at least know how to use the two basics, wot - and maybe I'll spar with you to show how to use a proper blade." Terrence adds, after a beat, "If you want to, of course."

Zolomon nods. "Sparing would be good, yes. I have not spared in a while and good use some more training with a blade I believe." He frowns. "Been a couple fights where I likely could have done better had I better trained with a blade, guess got to liking de long bow so much only trained with it most of the time when came ta weapons, hmms maybe Xandy could use some tips. I mean he is a great leader of the Moss flower Defenders, and I am sure he is still doing great but everyone can always use some tips and knowledge from others."

"Indeed." Terrence replies, "I'll be sure to spar with you at some point or another - if I ever have free time again, that is. It's been a long time for me as well, used to be quite good with a rapier, wot."

Zolomon offers a smile. "I am sure time can be made for sparing, tis important after all."

With a shrug, the sergeant starts to stand, saying, "Perhaps it can." Terrence brushes himself off, rolling his neck. "Well, its been good to talk to you, Zolomon, but I've got a book I'm been meaning to read." As he leaves, he calls over his shoulder, "And congratulations on being corporal, corporal!" With that he exits the scene.

Ol'random · Logs

Pvt. Cera,
Cpl. Felicity,
Sgt. Gregorian
Cpl. Terrence,
and PFC Zolomon.

A week or so after the 'incident' in the marshes was concluded...

The gardens were practically bare the time of year and there was a cold breeze in the air. A few hares were working here and there to finish harvesting everything and tidying the place up for winter though. Greg was off duty and sat on a bench carved in to the mountainside. He was just sitting and thinking in one of the few quiet spots the mountain offered.

Cera is out here helping, grumbling a little the past hour she been out here. She finally gets a chance to sit off to the side, though may be cause they are getting annoyed by her, still a few morment rest is good.

Gregorian has been listening for a while. He's not helping with the task but it's hard to ignore trouble brewing. He sighs quietly to himself before raising his voice now she's sat closer. "Problems with ordahs again private?"

Cera looks over at Gregorian and starts to complain but thinks better of it. She takes a deep breath. "No..sur..its just tireing and its almost done anywhere, also why check around and make sure the ground is ok for somethong a season or two down the road?"

Gregorian sighs louder and rests back on his seat, slouching a bit at the question but his answer sounds a little sad. "Because two seasons from now we could be undah siege, laid gown by plague, marchin' tah war or just too darn busy for weedin'. We have peace right now. Peace is for healin' and farmin'."

Cera frowns at the word siege. "Who could even freaking do much ta here." She then thinks "Sorry sur..just," She understands, she does..she wasn't in the patrol long when they went off to the abbey but she was chosen as she is good with battle wounds and knew a lot on healing arts, she also was good at tracking and hiding, so she was sort of a scout also. Maybe thats how she survived the ambush on the base camp, or the most part, she knew how to hide well and lay vey still in the ditch, she did pass out after couple couple hours yes but she could of easily been found by an enemy and finished off, she wasn't. "I..understand..gotta be ready for what ever comes or doesn't..come."

Gregorian snorts and looks amused. "Ha! We got taken ovah back when I was a recruit. They had us out on a trainin' exercise and some vermin took the place while we were gone. We had tah sneak back in and retake it." there's a little smile for the old glory days, "Vermin will nevah know all the secrets in this place but that doesn't mean they wouldn't love tah have it."

Cera frowns. "Who was badger Lord then?" She is curious, she is quiet before speaking, "I am..sorry for my short temper at times..sur...guess being alone for a while does that. I even yelled at someone for not trying to find me...when they had tried to find me..and..I..." She lets a tear fall. "Didn't know..figured no one cared when..no one showed up and that they all left me behind, they dint do it on purpose but at the time I thought..they did."

Gregorian shakes his head. "We didn't have one then. It was years before we had anothah badgah lord. Colonel Zoe-Lang was in charge in those days." he looks thoughtful through her apology before nodding slowly. "We always look out for each othah. Every membah of the patrol who goes out we try tah bring home...but sometimes they don't and we can't always prevent that." He's currently sat out on one of the benches.

Felicity is so happy to be back home! She's been spending as much time as possible with her baby sister, but now one last bit of duty calls, and so she had come out to the gardens to fill out one last peice of paperwork. All the correct people have her reports, it's just one more thing. But, alas, winter is here, and so are other beasts. The Corporal sighs and sits on a ledge, hoping she'll be able to concentrate while not losing feeling in her fingers.

Away up the path another corporal wonders down, holding in his paw a paper or two. Terrence's injuries have healed, for the most part - his jaw is still bruised though its faded from the vivid blacks and blues to a dull yellow. The stitches are gone too, which is a plus, but a scar is left on his face. As he slowly makes his way, he can be heard muttering to himself, "Fishbone... Maybe?" Gingerly rubbing his lower face were two teeth are absent, he scrunches his face. "Bird's a bit too weak, wot..." He stops, realizing the garden has far more hares around than the seasons should allow, though he gives a wave to Felicity and the others, not yet seeing the sarge and healer clearly.

Zolomon walks into the area slowly and stops by thetop of the path and sits on a bench there quietly.Some fresh air was always good he had decided. He was still sore in a couple places but healing.

Cera nods. She notices the others but doesn't say anything as she is not much of the talking to a lot type, she is talking to Greg right now as she nods. "I..I know and it was explained by his Lordship.." She frowns, yeah that talk could of gone a lot worse than it did. "I was put down as missung in action..well till I wandered back here and guess gonna get use to things here again, and hopefully no more surprises weather its toads or wot ever."

This is the problem with the mountain having only a few select quiet places to sit alone in. Sometimes everyone has the same idea. Gregg has a bench claimed around the middle of the gardens. It's the one with the best view and a little sheltered from the cold wind, he had to claim it early. He notices the others fairly quickly, his ears twitching as he picks up on them. "Hrm. Hares returnin' aftah bein' missin' for so long is often the dream. There will always be surprises but we'll prepare for wotevah it may be as best we can." he leans out of his seat a bit to nod to those he can see. "Corporals. Hidin' out for a spot of quiet papah work?" he hasn't spotted Zolomon yet.

Felicity looks up, rubbing at the healing cut about her left eye. "Aye, sah. M'last little bit for th'moment. Are y'enjoyin' the balmy weathah?" she jokes. Spying her fellow Corporal and fellow Runner, she waves to them both. "Looks like we all decided t'come out 'ere and not be bothahed by anybeast."

"Yes, it seems we have." Terrence pulls his overcoat closer to him, looking up at the sky. "We might not be bothered by any beast, wot, but that bloody wind..." Setting himself down on a nearby ledge with a small grin, the corporal raises his paw in greeting to Greg. "No, sarge, leastways not me! Just something personal, wot." He calls, leaning back to rest against a stone.

Zolomon starts to speak quietly but decides to just slip back inside, seems he is still feeling a bit blah and sore.

Cera nods, "I..suppose sur. I am glad to be home..even if seem to be making most unhappy and grumpy lately." Then she is a little unhappy. "I can stay outside a little while longer, right sur?" Her room is boring after all and she is on like house arrest for backtalking a couple higher ups.

Gregorian hehs at Felicity's and Terrence's words about the weather. "I work in the forge, the breeze is a welcome break. When I stop bein' able tah feel the ends of my ears I'll get back tah work." he nods to Cera's question, "If yah don't have ordahs tah be somewhere else yah can stay for now."

Felicity shrugs, then spots Cera. Smiling, she waves at her fellow haremaid, then glances at Terrence as she returns to her paperwork. "Well, I 'ope th'garden can 'elp y'with whotevah y'came out 'ere for, wot!"

With a nod, Terrence pushes himself off the rock. "Thanks." A pause, then, "Actually, sarge!" The corporal leans forward to look down at his superior (and spare a glance at Cera), "With you being a smith and all that, do you think fishbone could work for a fake tooth or two, wot?" He gives a sheepish smile to Felicity. "Honestly I came out here to think, wot, but seems I need a few opinions on these," he raises a paw to his face, "First."

Cera says, "Its nice in the garden..usually anyways...guess not many will come here till spring now...well maybe to get things ready for spring."

Gregorian ears perk at Terrence's question and he looks thoughtful. "Hmm...I can't say that I've done it before. Gold, silvah, that sort of thing I've seen, mostly around the sailahs...It might be doable with a big enough bit of bone tah shape." he's started the smith thinking now and that usually leads to research.

Felicity smiles, then goes back to her paperwork. It's not much, but it does require the Runner to not be constantly bombarded by the 100 zillion questions her baby sister is always asking. She seems to be getting through it quickly.

"Oh?" With eyebrows raised, Terrence says, "I did think 'bout the gold and silver, sah, but I daresay that's a bit too much for my pocketbook at the moment, wot." Absentmindedly rubbing the area, he adds, "Maybe a big ol'salmon or wot not... To be blunt, I don't want to look like a seared if at all possible, sah."

Gregorian chuckles at Terrence's concerns. "I can undahstand yah concerns. Plus think of wot the recruits will call yah if yah end up an officah above them. I'll raid the kitchen for some bone and do a couple of practice runs but if searats can do it we can do it bettah."

Felicity is almost done with her paperwork! Yay! She glances up, chuckling. "Oh, come on! Y'don't want t'look like a rough, seafarin' beast?" she jokes. Then, after adding, "I've 'eard o'woodlander-type sailahs 'avin' gold teeth. Nice an' 'onourable beasts they were, too, as far as the 'istories say," she returns to her work to finish it.

Dipping his head to the sergeant, Terrence replies, "Thanks, sarge. Really, thank you. Chewing's become somewhat of a chore now, wot!" With a rueful chuckle, the corporal shifts from were he's sitting against the rock to more open space, lying back onto flat ground to look up at the cold sky. "Well, if I have to find another profession, maybe I would, wot." he mutters to Felicity, legs dangling off the ledge, "Be that as it may, it's still a bit too flashy and all that for me."

Cera is now curious. "Who would want a tooth of gold? Sounds like a fight waiting ta happen, ya know get punched in de face, cause of gold."

Gregorian strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Yah know I'd been makin' jewelry on the side all these years, maybe I should have been doin' teeth. The amount of seabeast yah see with them or just missin' them there's clearly a demand, nevah mind all the patrol gettin' in tah fights...maybe I should have bought that forge in Halyard." his mind's off on a trail.

Felicity finishes her paperwork just in time to hear Cera's remark, at which she bursts out laughing. After a few minutes, she quiets down enough to hear Greg's musings, and then she gives Terrence a look. "Oh, now y'got 'im thinkin' 'bout who knows whot!" she tells him half-jokingly. "We might lose our smith! Good thing 'is Lordship c'n forge things, wot!"

"Astute observation there, Cera." Terrence says with a dry laugh. Then, raising his head to look down at the healer and sarge, he adds, "And well, sah, daresay I've got a demand for two right now here in the patrol, wot!" Glancing at Felicity, he gives her a cheeky grin. "Maybe I have or maybe I haven't, wot - though I doubt our good sarge would run off so easily at the first chance of gold, wot. Besides, I'd bet at least half the sailers he'd work for would cheat him, eh, wot wot?"

"Yah'll pry me out of that forge when I'm dead and dust and not a minute before." Greg says very firmly to the idea of him leaving though he still looks like he's thinking "...It would just be a second forge...for the holidays. Heh. Debt collectin' on sailahs sounds like fun."

Cera smiles, she can get along with her fellow hares after all it seems. "Halyard is...sometimes fairly rough."

Felicity grins. "Oh, I c'n just see it now, wot! Ovah th' 'olidays, Greg goes out, makes a bunch o' teeth, then knocks 'em outta their ownah's mouths because they nevah paid 'im. That would be int'restin' t'watch, I dare say, Sah." She laughs, then sobers up some. "Aye, 'Alyard can be pretty rough. But if y'stay alert, go with a group, an' try t'make some friends from th'vermin who aren't tryin' t'kill y'just because ye're a 'are, you'll be fine. An' the Sargeant 'ere would be doubly fine. Saw 'im fightin' in battle durin' the rescue, an' I for 1 don't want to make 'im mad." Her paperwork is all done, she has lots of words now!

Terrence sits up, adjusting his coat again. "I might not put it past the dear sarge to knock some real teeth out so you have more customers." The wide smile he has on his face shows the two lower teeth he's missing. "Never did say we had to worry 'bout him, wot." He spares a glance at Felicity now that she's finished, and he turns towards her. "Say, Felicity...eh." He bites his recently healed lip with a wince, before taking a deep breath and saying with a slight grin, "Do you happen to have free time anytime soon, wot?"

Gregorian chuckles at Felicity. "Flattery will get yah nowhere corporal and that is a terrible suggestion tah drum up business Terrence...Though I could team up with the tavern. They provide the bar fights, I deal with the aftahmath."

Felicity laughs at the smith's words, then turns to Terrence. However, before she can answer, screams and angry shouts can be heard. A blur darts past them, distantly followed by a heaving, red-faced leveret caretaker. "Felicity! Your sister--" "Nyah, nyah, can'ts catch me!" Julia sticks her tongue out at the caretaker, then bolts off deeper into the garden. The Runner leaps up as the caretaker charges off after the Dibbun. "Ohmigoodniss, I 'ave t'go. I'll talk t'y'latah, Terrence!" Grabbing her paperwork and stuffing in and her pencil into her pocket, she takes off after her baby sister. Because family work is never done.

With a wry laugh at either himself or luck, Terrence lets himself fall onto his back, gazing up at the clouds. "Well, sarge, well...that happened." Chuckling still, he remains were he is.

Gregorian waves a paw to bid goodbye to Felicity and then looks back at Terrence as he seems to have collapsed himself. It doesn't take much for the Sargent to jump to conclusions and tilt his head meaningfully in the direction Felicity went. "Yah and her?"

"Eh, I'd hope that might be something I can say yes to, at the very least, sarge." Terrence says, staying on his back. Letting out a sigh, he adds, "But it certainly isn't anything at the moment, wot!" Finally, the corporal sits up, his paw on his jaw again. "Well, sah," He's trying to change the subject now, "I say if you can manage a tooth for me I'd be quite grateful, wot."

Gregorian hrms and rests back in his seat. "I forget if there was a thing with her and Zolomon. Seems tah be the favourite belle of the ball...but that doe's life is her family, or more precisely her sistah. Sweet dibbun, though Grace doesn't seem tah like her...package deal though as they say." he mostly sounds like he's rambling but there might something to it. He's thinking again before the talk of teeth finally catches his brain and he snaps out of it. "Hm? Yes. Should be workable. Which ones did yah lose?"

"Well, I've been around the mountain long enough to know what Julia's done. And that her sister'll do anything for her." Terrence says with a shrug. "Anyways, well, its these two." He goes to cautiously pull his lip down as he opens his mouth. His left canine and the tooth beneath it are gone. "Suppose I got lucky with the rock not hitting me higher up, eh, wot?"

Gregorian doesn't venture more on the topic of does and instead bends forwards to inspect the toothless gap before feeling out the spot in his own mouth with his tongue as he thinks. "Well it's not somethin' I've done before. Not sure if the healahs have evah dabbled with it. We'll get yah back tah yah dazzlin' smile again though. Certainly bettah it hit yah there than take out an eye or somethin'."

With a slight grin Terrence leans back once the inspection is done. "Maybe, but I did find an old report of a lieutenant having a wooden tooth -that was around the seasons my ol'hare was born, though, wot. Besides, if searats can manage it, I'm certain you can at the very least attempt it, sah!"

Gregorian digs out a little bit of parchment and charcoal and scribbles down a few notes on it for later. "Leave it with me, I'll look intah it. If I made myself a foot a few teeth should be a simple task. I don't think they'll have me runnin' any more trainin' exercises for a long time tah come so I should have the time."

"Ah. Yes." Terrence awkwardly shifts his feet. "Perhaps thats true, sah. But thank you for this. I doubt the gap between now and your next exercise will be too long, wot."

Gregorian shakes his head. "Best tah leave it tah the highah ups that know wot they're doin'...With a bit of luck the recruits will progress soon anyway. We'll have some more privates, trained and ready for the next lot or wotevah comes next."

Terrence, nodding, stands, brushing himself off. "Well, I don't know what to say 'bout the state of our privates and recruits, sah, but anyway," the corporal tightens his coat, shivering, "It's getting bloody cold out, wot! I'll need to head inside before my ears fall right off, so if you'll excuse me..." He makes his way through terraces to the entrance inside, offering a wave of farewell as he does so.

Ol'random · Logs

OOC: A very short session, but hey.

Rcr. Isla and Cpl. Terrence, hares.

A day or so after the rescue...

She'd been given the speech, of course. How things change when you slay a beast for the first time, how that feeling never truly goes away - she had tucked the talk away in the back of her mind. Another boring lecture by the healers, another concept that seemed too abstract. Too future. But that wasn't how it went, was it? Isla wasn't quite ready to kill a beast as a recruit, but it is what it is, and she's going to deal with that. The more immediate issue, however, is the cold sweats keeping her up through the night as the wound on her arm festers. She awake with a flail in the makeshift medical tent, not quite sure where she is for a moment, eyes wide. That's right... They escaped, and were rescued - she can start treating it all as a bad dream, now. Right? She's sick, sicker than she thought she would be from sch a small wound - but it was nasty conditions. "Water?" Her voice is dry and raspy, it sounds foreign to her, but she sits up on the little cot, squinting at the light streaming through the sides of the little tent.

Terrence, who had been snoring outside the tent, exhausted, jerks awake at the noise, and, while rubbing sleep from his eyes, gets up. The corporal glances around, confused for a moment. "Ah- right." He mutters to himself, recalling were he was and why. Opening the tent flap, he pokes his head in to check on the recruit, and, seeing her at least somewhat awake, says, "Hello there, Isla. How're you holding up, wot?"

"Feels like I got a badger on m'chest." The recruit blinks, blearily. Winter looms on the not-so-distant horizon, but she feels like she's on fire. Her arm has been cleaned and wrapped, but she can feel it throbbing in time with her racing heartbeat beneath the bandages. "An' like a family'a jellyfish took up residence in me arm." She lifts the bandaged appendage, frowning at it. "Did... They find Private Kassimir?" She asks, idly scratching at her arm and the mess of ooze that she knows it to be beneath the wrapping. Gross.

There's a pause as the corporal tries to match the name to a face. "...No," Terrence begins, quietly, "No, they haven't. Dom's still out there, somewhere, wot." He enters the tent fully now, sitting nearby the cot. "I say, you look like it, recruit. I can't imagine you'll feel any better 'till we get you back to the mountain and out of the field, wot."

There's a nod - she expected that. She watched the madness take Dominik, and there's something other than grief that unknots in her chest. Is it relief? Is she afraid of the private? "Was just a little..." She looks like she's about to say 'cut', but it doesn't match the wound. "...Flaying." Isla chuckles instead, chuckling. "Didn't think it'd set th'rest a'me on fire, wot." She rubs at one of her eyes, her head swimming. "Mountain sounds nice. A week at th'Tavern sounds even better." What young Patrol hare doesn't want some shore leave to flirt with the barmaids? "An' Zolomon an' the corporal an' Nilear made it back?"

"Yes, yes they did." Terrence says, looking her over. "Like fire you say? Have you told the healers, wot- it may well be far worse than you say, you know. And..." The corporal takes in a deep breath, looking down at his lap while wringing his paws. "Pvt. Konner is missing as well."

There's a slow nod as Isla digests that knowledge. "Think I yelled at 'im last we spoke." She finally sighs, then gives a shrug. Not for the first time, she finds herself doubting whether she made the right decision in coming here - but it's too late for that, now. She pushes away the thought. "Healers say s'an infection. Bloody nasty one, didn't have nothin' t'cover th'wound with, sat in mud an' muck fer a few days. Suppose I'm luck t'have th'thing at all, eh?" Her tone is joking, but there's obvious distress hidden in it. "Suppose I owe th'rest of you lot a thanks fer comin' t'fish us outta th'swamp. That typical for a trainin' exercise?"

"No need to thank us, wot." With a grim smile, Terrence looks her in the eye. "It was nothing typical- the entire thing's been a right ol' disaster, wot, leastways if you ask me. You and the others should never have been caught in the first place, and we should have paid more attention to the toads, and because of that, it's our fault all this happened, not yours and the others." The corporal's leans back, his face a look of visible concern. "And don't go beating yourself up about Konner, wot. It won't do any good now."

"Right." Isla nods, though whether or not she internalizes the corporal's words remains unsaid. "Right." She repeats, instead, easing back on her cot once more. Sitting up has become a chore, and she can feel her body begin to fight back against her and the wound. "I'll be chuckin' m'guts now, Corporal. If ya don't wish t'see, ya might want ta..." She can't finish her warning and suggestion, and turns to the other side of the bed. There's a bucket there for precisely this reason - it's going to be a long day.

Terrence blanches as the recruit upchucks, standing quickly. "Well, erm, right then." His eyes snap closed as the sounds reaches him, and he quickly bows out of the tent. "I do hope you feel better, wot wot, but I need to go!"

Ol'random · Logs

Angela, a mouse,
DoraRose, another mouse,
John, a squirrel,
Nardo, a ferret,
and Xander, a badger.

Xander is by the pond watching leaves fall into the pond slowly and watching them sort of flaot around. Every so often he picks up a stone and toses it into the pond.

"Good way t'scare the fishes, son." Angela has snuck up on the badger, her last name of Quietfeet proven accurate once again. Staying safely out of reach, the elderly mouse smiles. "'Ow are ye today? Did I 'ear right that y'wanted to speqak with me?"

Away on the other side of the pond, John had just finished a talk of his own with the survivors of the caravan. The squirrel is alone now, eating a pear as he meanders along the bank, lost in thought.

Xander looks over and nods. "Yeah....then not like have..headache, as much..shoulder still sore at times but maybe left over hornet stuff, don't know." He frowns. "I still have some..issues to work out, not sure how though."

Carefully sitting down on a log near the badger, Angela rests her staff across her lap. "Oh? Like whot kind o' issues, son? May'ap I can 'elp you figure out a way t'solve them. I've 'ad a lot o' practice, after all."

John sees the badger and healer, raising his paw (and pear) in the air as a greeting. "'Ello there!" Arm still in a sling and crutch underarm, the squirrel hobbles his way over to them, finishing his pear with his freepaw. He's still a little ways away, however.

Xander watches the mousemaid and sighs. "You...afraid of me too?" He frowns. "Benar is..fairly sure he is." He watches another leaf fall. "The...stress and, well some of my memory is back and some not but decided to not worry about it, past is the past after all and this is the now." And just a random thought comes out, "Did you know someone knows how to like..fight some?"

Shaking her head, Angela shifts her weight. "There's a difference between fear and caution, son. Also, I'm in a world o' 'urt t'day and didn't feel like riskin' 'ittin' ye with m'staff when I sit and stand. Pain 'as a way o' makin' us not want t'be near anybeast." She shifts slightly, scowling slightly just as the squirrel greats them. Oh, well. He should expect that kind of stuff from her by now. "'Ave y'talked t'Benar an' found out if that's true, or are y'just runnin' on an assumption? An' who are y'talkin' about? DoraRose knows 'ow t'fight, but I feel you're talkin' 'bout somebeast else."

The squirrel pauses, realizing that perhaps this is a more private conversation. Especially with how the old mouse just growled - he teeters awkwardly for a moment, debating whether or not to continue. In the end, John throws caution to wind and goes on ahead, plopping himself down nearby the two, staring out at the water. "Fight some?" He asks, setting the pear core to one side, "If I were understandin' y'correctly, Xander, I'd say I'd be a beast, I were - but no shape am I t'fight, I am. Mayhaps when I get better we can have a go."

Xander speaks, "Benar..doesn't wish to see me and been told that by 3 beasts.Then again I likely wouldnt want to...see me either if I was him..I.." He closes his good eye and is quiet. "I almost killed him, he could of died cause of..me." He glances at John and back to Angela. "Krisha can fight..her and Matilda went to get some other supplies at the market cause its closeing soon til spring..Ferro said he taught her and yet she..never mentioned it to me."

Angela cocks an eyebrow. "Oh, they did, did they? I'll 'ave t'do some double-checkin' with Benar meself..." She smiles slightly at the squirrel, then looks back at the badger in surprise. "Oh, really? Well, seems fittin', since she's th' Badger Mother an' all." She's still pretty close to the badger, and she leans over and goes to pat him on the shoulder, since her log is right next to his. "I'm sorry she didn't tell you. She may 'ave just not ever thought t'tell ye. I was married many a season afore m' 'usband found out I could fight. Just never occured t'me t'tell 'im, is all. I doubt 'twas intentional on Krisha's part."

"Aye, she can - nearly killed tha' monitor with her bare paws, she did." The squirrel falls onto his back in the grass, gazing up at the sky. "There's no' much reason t'mention a beast can fight, there is," John says, eyes resting on a white cloud above them, "Most beasts from outside Redwall tend t'know their way 'round a brawl, they do, so I wouldn' go an' take it against yourself she didn' let y'know." Turning his head to look at Xander, now, he adds, "As for th'Abbot, well, I don' know much 'bout him or what he's thinkin'. But y'are in his abbey, so he'll have t'see sometime or another, he will."

Xander says, "I..heard..Anwir was..is dead.." He sighs. "It was yesterday on the road, two weasels and some fox..tried to rob the cart of supplies guess....but nothing was taken and everyone is ok, and thats good." He adds, "One less worry if she can..fight."

Angela frowns slightly. "Who's this Anwir creature?" She pulls a flask out of her pocket and takes a sip of what looks to be just plain water. But you never know with this mouse. "Aye, I wouldn't worry 'bout Krisha, son. She seems t'be a beast who c'n take care o' 'erself, I dare say."

With a little effort due to two of his limbs being injured, the squirrel rolls himself on his good side to face the badger and mouse. "Th'monitor tha' caught Krisha an' murdered half my caravan, it did. Th'creature's dead now - put my blade through its heart, I did. It's why I were so injured, it were." John pinches the bridge of his nose when he hears of the robbery, muttering, "Between yesterday an' Anwir, there seems t'be an increase in highway-beasts in these parts, there is, an' I daresay it might get worse an' worse 'efore th'winters out." With a long sigh, he returns to lie on his back, casting his gaze back up to the clouds above.

Xander says, "Let's..hope not.." He frowns. "I..want to avoid a fight..I..have to, a fight just gonna get me.." He shakes his head. "I need to figure out what ta do about anger issues and..well...be....find out who I am anymore, somehow."

Angela smirks a little bit. "Oh, I'm sure that my DoraRose can 'andle any beasts who come 'er way. Same with all the other Warriors 'ere in Redwall, an' th' beasts in Ferravale. I would just say warn 'em." Turning back to the badger, her smile softens. "Oh, Xander....y' 'ave the 'eart o' a Warrior, an' ye're a badger, t'boot. I'm afraid I don't 'ave much in th' way o' advice for ye. But I'm always 'ere to listen, alright?"

"Do what y'will do, Xander." John pushes himself upright to sit. "There's no'point in fighting' if y'don' have to, there isn', an if y'do, well, y'do. Best way o'finding yourself is tryin' t'know yourself, an'tryin' t'know what y'want, it is."

Xander shrugs. "I..don't know..who I am sometimes, I did lose 4-5 seasons of memories and some came back yeah..some not and may never, but thats ok.." He sighs. "I..wanted to leave and not come back cause. I was afraid..still a little..that I will get angery again and harm someone else or..worse..like wot if hurt Krisha?"

Nardo wanders over to the pond, looks around and soon finds a place to maybe sit down. Beasts have gotten use to him being around.

Angela shakes her head. "Son, ye're gonna 'urt beasts. 'Tis just th' way 'tis. The only thing left is t' try to minimize th' damage an' ask forgiveness when it 'appens." She nods at Nordo, not really smiling, but at least she's not growling or anything. DoraRose, Gatekeeper extrordinaire, comes out from the training yard, walks over to the pond, collapses to her knees behind Xander's log, and flops over it, groaning. Angela looks at her. "Rough day trainin' that new guard?" DoraRose groans again, covering her eyes with a paw.

"Let me tell y', laddy," John begins with a concerned crease to his brow, "I've lost more memories than you've been alive, I have." Closing his eyes, the squirrel bows his head, another sigh escaping from him. "Sure, mayhaps I've no'lost such a direct time like y'have, Xander, but I've lost more than I like - still have names an' faces o'those I've known, bu' th'sound of their voice, their laugh..." He trails off, falling silent for some time. Upon hearing the newcomers, he opens his eyes and looks up, offering a small smile. "'Ello there, Dora - an..." John squints at Nardo. "Nardo, were it?"

Xander listens and sighs. "But...I don't wanna harm anyone thats a friend or family...but I cant always..be less stressful, and maybe time in Ferrvale will help." He frowns. "And I likely upset Frair Lacota yesterday...cause ummm..." He frowns, "Almost messed up the oven...the cookies I was baking use to be suhgar cookies and they were..charcoal black and the tray was black and there was fire and ..smoke...and yah.."

Nardo waves, he chuckles as he listens. "I heard ya made," He snickers, "Fire cookies, hee heheheheh." He calms down. "Nardo..yes..healer beast, right now also homeless..due to some..stuff and no nothing he did...Mack fought thar...he should of listened but NOOOOOO....nont listen to ya best pal."

Angela cocks an eyebrow at the ferret. "a 'Ealer, eh? 'M a 'Ealer, meself. 'Ow would y'say y'are at the craft? We could always use more 'Ealers in the Abbey, or even in Ferravale, iffens y'don't necessarily wish t'remain in th' Abbey." DoraRose looks up at the badger. "Well, Lactoa can get over it. Not the first time something's been burned in the kitchens. You didn't ruin anything more important, so it'll be okay." The Warrior mouse scoots so she's sitting on Xander's log beside him. "And of course you don't want to hurt the beasts you care about. That's what makes you a good beast instead of a monster. We just need to figure out the best way for you to deal with stress." The Gatekeeper stretches. "I write in my diary. I also train and work on my strength and skills. And work on my hobbies, like knitting. Those help me manage my stress and not hurt those I love."

John lies back down, eyes closed again. The squirrel lets the others talk - for now, he's just enjoying the decent weather.

Xander says, "Mossflower Defenders could use a healer and ya can still help in Ferrvale maybe Nardo, if ya want" He looks at Dorarose..calm and nods slowly "I am just glad Benar didnt die.I thought he did so..ran away and I know now that made me look worse and I wanted to..to die but no worries I am past that now." He frowns, he has yet to tell someone sorry. "I need to..tell Matilda sorry..I told her she she of just let me drown in teh ditch she found me in , only was thar cause of a bad reaction to hornet stings and I was..real sick and the one monitor had tried to fight me also..so a lot of bad happen to me all at once and as told Anglea fairly certain Benar is afraid of me and maybe some others. I ..want to tell him sorry face to face and cant, gonna write a note that I am very sorry and want to say sorry face to face, but will be in Ferrvale to check on some things and..he can come out of his room in case he been, well...too afraid to come out of his room, cause..cause of me."

Nardo says, "Ya almost died from climbing a tree and finding hornets..double check trees...then ya were trying to get dibbuns down safe so..ya for lucky though..Connie she.." He frowns and just shuts up now, he then speaks, "A job be nice..and a house or hut..something. I am a very skilled healers and know some things about poisons and bees, wasps, hornets...even snake and one time saved a stoat from a scopin sting..just barely and no wasn't 'ere..south somewhere."

DoraRose thinks for a minutes. "Hmmm.....maybe you could apologize to Benar face-to-face...are you sure he wouldn't want to talk to you? Or maybe he'd talk to you if a number of Warriors was there...." She pauses, then goes to wrap the badger up in a big hug. "I'm glad she saved you....the world would be sadder without you." Angela raises her eyebrows in approving surprise at what the ferret says. "Ah, good, a beast whot knows 'ow t'deal wi' poisons. We need more o' those 'round 'ere....some o' th' maniacs who've tried t' conquer Mossflower had a fascination wi' poisons. Couldn't make any o' them nearly as effective as I could, but still. 'Twould be good t' 'ave more beasts in the area who c'n 'elp me deal with it, should villains ever try that crap again."

The noise of beasts is starting to get to John, who rolls over on his injured side to face away from them all. "Daresay I cannae think of a time I were ever stung, I can'." The squirrel says more to himself than any other beast, though he cranes his neck to look back at the badger. "Mayhaps th'good abbot is afraid o' y', Xander, but y'won' know till y'try, y'won'."

Xander says, "3 beasts told me he wishes to not see me..soo..I cant go fac e to face..maybe later."He sighs "I can write a letter on it and someone else can give it to hiim, maybe after a few..days..weeks he will be ok talking face to face.I will respect his deciaion for now...sides..wanna make sure Patch didnt..destory the tavern or something, if its still the same tavern even""

Nardo says, "Who's...Patch?" He is curious and as more healer stuff is mentioned he nods. "I can...make poisons, not that I would and like..use them for something bad..I can cure...well some, I mean some will kill a beast in secounds and ya can't do anything about that."

DoraRose's eyes narrow. "Oh? And who told you that, Xander? I haven't heard anything link that." Angela purses her lips as she stands. "Oh, aye....I 'ad t'make one o' my deadliest poisons t'escape from slavery, I did." The eldery mouse is showing a bitterness that wasn't there before. "Glad y'wouldn't make 'em yourself, son," she adds, trying to soften her voice and hopefully not scare the ferret.

John snorts as the rat is mentioned. He sits up looking at Nardo with a grin. "Patch is only th'most vile, useless creature this 'side o' River Moss, he is." However, the squirrel grows more serious, turning his attention once again on Xander. "Aye, who were these beasts who told y'tha', mate? I'm a bit curious t'know meself, I am."

Xander says, "Matilda..Brother Gorvenalus...Krisha..that Benar doesnt want to see me right now..like said maybe he is afraid of me..I don't know maybe someone can ask and get back to me " Change subject "And..Nardo..maybe tag along to Ferrvale and see if Blisa can get you a home and you can be a healer there and even for Defendrrs, maybe help at the abbey once in a while too, a like..traveling healer."

Nardo hmmms, "So Patch is..bad?" He smiles at the idea of a home. "A home and job both be nice, right now its like...where ever my footpaws take me..maybe Mack can come too, well..maybe he is..sort of..hard to figure out but nice, he let me and connie stay at his pub when no one wanted us around cause we were ferrets in mainly woodlander place."

Angela hobbles off, looking slightly grumpy. DoraRose, noticing this, stands and looks Xander in the eyes. "I'll try to talk to Benar about y'all talking. I promise to do my best." She then jogs off after her grandmother, hoping to be able to find out what's wrong....

John, watching the two mice go, stands himself - albeit with some difficulty and a few curses as the squirrel puts wait on his still injured leg. Crutch underarm again, he makes his way closer to Xander and Nardo. "Patch is bad, aye. But as for th' Abbot, well..." He gives the badger a sympathetic look, saying, "I don' know wha' y'should do, I don'. Guess y'should do what y'think is best, y'should. I'd offer t'go with y' t' Ferrvale, I would, but I'm in no condition t'travel..."

Xander watches the mice head off quietly, he nods. "Its ok..I have Uncle Zee's old hut and an office above the tavern, I will be fine. I will stay in Ferravale unless I check on the shrews maybe."

Nardo says, "So you own a tavern...yeah may wanna check on that for sure." He smiles. "Mack can cook if ya need a cook, and he makes good ales too."

"Well, alright then." John says, nodding to Xander. "Good luck up here, mate." The squirrel's tail swishes back and forth as he looks back at the main building. "Anyway, Xander, Nardo - I need t'go get some rest, I do." He starts off now with wave. "Farewell on y'trip, y'two."

Xander nods as he looks at the clouds now. "I am gonna head to Ferravale in the morning."

Nardo waves to the squirrel and hmmms. "I will tag along, buddy system and all that..and all."

Xander chuckles a little. "Like a badger needs buddy system. But sure...so joining up with the Defenders then?"

Nardo nods as he looks at the clouds now. "Why not..all groups need a healer after all, right?" He looks at the clouds again. "I wonder when snow will be around, its been like colder lately than it usually is this time of the season or is it me?"

Xander says, "Don't know"He frowns "I hope snow isn't any time soon, Ferro would be stuck at the abbey"He stands slowly"I..should go I did kind of promise to help wash dishes for a couple days so...talk later."

Nardo waves, he is too busy looking at the clouds and thinking. He frowns "I think its colder cause the snow wants to come sooner this season....that's my thoughts..." He waves to the badger and just relaxes here a while before heading inside after a few moments.

Ol'random · Logs

OOC: Thanks to Greg/Willow for putting this whole plot-line on! It's been fun!

Erg (Pvt. Dom),
Cpl. Felicity,
Sgt. Gregorian,
Rcr. Isla,
Pvt. Nilear,
Cpl. Terrence,
and Mj. Varus
(+many, many toads).

After the plans for rescue...

Containment. Imprisonment. It's a first for Isla - the closest approximation to her current situation being that time a magic trick went wrong and set fire to a local tavern. But the troupe had paid the proper dues, done some service, and been free to go after a good laugh with local authorities - this is different. There's no rationale, no fine to pay, no crime, and no escape. So, the doe stews. Her brain whirring. There is still a way out, she knows, she just doesn't know what that is. The recruit is currently sat on the ground of her cage, singing softly to herself. It's a nonsense song, nonsense lyrics, just something to fill the space of silence and anxiety, something that she can feel in control of, for that moment.

The novelty of the prisoners has finally worn off, and, with the exception of one or two toad guards, most of the amphibians have gone back to their autumn schedule - that is to say mostly just sitting around during the day and tossing rocks at each other while during the night is more of the same but with fire and food. One of the few not sitting is the toad watching the hares, leaning on a crude spear as it lazily tries to catch one of the many, many bug that's buzzing in the swamp and village. Too preoccupied with this task, it doesn't give much thought to how Isla is singing or what she's saying, not like it could understand the hare anyway.

Someone appreciates the song at least as to the back of the cage one of other recruits, Nilear looks up. He's been silent a lot, accepting of his fate and short run life as a patroller so he's not even made any attempt to interact with the toads. For a moment he's just listening to the tune before the words finally reach him and he looks confused "...That doesn't even make any sense"

"Ugly things, bumpy things, be they beasts or something less -" Isla babbles, albeit rhythmically. "Wee, wop, bop, slop." Plucking a wet stick from the mud, she taps out her own beat against the bars. Could she break out of the wooden cage? She doubts it. Could she escape the toads upon doing so? She doubts it even more. A sigh weaves its way into her melody. Think. Her arm has grown hotter, sending shooting stabs of pain every time she moves it. She's been soaking in filth since the injury, and she has little doubt that an infection is taking hold. She tries not to look at it too closely. Do toads have any thoughts on disease? Perhaps they would release her if they thought she had one which could spread. More likely, they would just kill her and save themselves the trouble. She tucks the idea away for further contemplation. "S'not like they can understand it." She responds to Nilear with a shrug. "Just needed noise wot wasn't -" She waves out at the toad slurping bugs from the air. "That."
Everyone's a critic.

The toad was quite happy with its snack, smacking its lips. However, it notices the two hares converse, albeit after a minute or so. With a croak and a, "Glrulg!" It raps the cage bars harshly with its spearbutt were Isla had been tapping, but doesn't do much beyond that, instead searching for another bug to snap up. The buzzing of the marsh bugs, even this far into the fall, is nearly maddening.

"You're just attractin' that" Nilear sounds frustrated "You keep drawin' them over and" he's cut short as the toad hits the bars and he flinches. He has to bite his tongue and clench his paws to try and keep calm or at least avoid completely losing it "I swear if he does that again..." he mutters and flicks his ear as a bug lands on it.

"Maybe I want 'im to." Isla mutters back with the flicker of an idea. She gives him a smirk and stands, moving to the side of the cage closer to their guard. "Toooooooooads!" She sings. Her voice, at least, is lovely - she depended on it long enough. But the lyrics are ugly and nonsense, as Nilear has pointed out. She lapses into the tune the troupe used to improvise sea shanties. Lilting and easy, rising and falling like the waves, the kind of beat any drunken beast can beat a tankard to. "Ya ever seen a frogbeast, after sailin' out ta sea? All dried an' salty worthless, as they are now ta me. Bu' th' thing bout toads whats been salted out an' dried, is it's preferable eatin', if yer other options died!" She hollers the melody through the bars.

The long tongue of the toad leaps out through the bars to snatch the bug by Nilear's ears, the disgusting wet sound loud and accompanied by sprays of spittle. With happy croak the guard munches on its new snack, content for now. When the other hare starts singing, it glares at them both, vaguely aware 'toad' being some sort of insult for them. It leaps back as Isla gets closer, startled, raising its spear point and poking lightly at the hare. "Kilp! Glo-Har!" It croaks, keeping out of reach from the cage. As the singing continues, the guard relaxes, somewhat, enthralled by the pleasant voice - but the spear is still kept pointed at her, if a bit laxly.

"The you're goin' to get us all killed like Zolomon" Nilear mutters back harshly when Isla suggests she wants the toad's attention. There's some debate if Zolomon made it of course. When last seen he was being dragged off after Dom killed him but then there was a lot of toads running off afterwards. Nilear is firmly of the belief he's dead and Dom's an insane lunatic now. He flinches again as the tongue snaps over his head and he freezes at the sound and spit. For a minute he's just stuck there, his brain broken before he shudders with a "Yeeeeacht!" he frantically rubs his head with his sleeves.

"We're gonna die anyway." Isla mutters back, but doesn't take her eyes off her now captivated audience. "Th'rain is black an' bitter, th'sea is twice as so, but I still prefer th'Dark Forest, to th'marshes stinky glow." Struggling to keep up with the melody, the words remain nonsense. But the toads don't understand, nor do they pay her - so on she goes. "Sticky slime an' bugs t'dine ain't a meal wot happy bellies crave, but give me yer damn spear, ya clod, so I cin poke ya through th'nave!"

A throaty chuckle comes from the guard at Nilear's discomfort, distracting it from Isla song; but her audience isn't just one, now. Two more toads had shuffled over at the noise, and now croak in enjoyment of the hare's singing. The guard's spear is lowered even more, the tip practically in the cage. "Clog...?" One of the other toads looks confusedly as its fellows, earning a shrug in return. "Har-Kilp, Glo-Ush."

Nilear suddenly stops and his shoulders slump after Isla's reminder "Right...good point" he just sits lost in thought for a moment but Isla's singing still brings up back and he watches her for a good minute before he spots the toad's spear is right by the cage and he looks away, trying not to draw the toad's attention to it "Holy hell it's workin'" he mutters back.

The performer-turned-Patrol-recruit gives a knowing smirk, but keeps singing. She's still lilting on in that wavering shanty melody, but lapses from nonsensical lyrics about the swamp to an answer to Nilear: "A'course it's workin', ya stupid buck, now all we needs a litttttle -" Isla continues singing, her brain running through rhymes even as she tenses for her next move. "Luck!" She lurches forward, moving forward to try and snatch the spear from the toad through the bars, a foot jutting forward to block the tip and keep it on the ground, should the guard try to stab her with it, but she doesn't want to break off the tip - but anything is better than nothing, which is what they have right now.

"GLARG!" The toad guard croaks, tagging franticly at the now trapped spear. The other two toads look at each other, perplexed, before croaking out for help. "HAR-GLARG!" They shout, not moving to help the guard in any way besides that. They're not on duty right now, after all. Soon, more croaking can be heard as the village slowly responds to the plea for help even as the guard struggles to free the spear while shrieking. Its grip is loosening the more it pulls back.

Felicity has been quiet most of the time they've been imprisoned. She's been thinking about her uncle Flint, who had been a prisoner of these same toads for many seasons. It almost seems as if her family is doomed to always be encountering the amphibians in less than ideal circumstances. She also has been trying to come up with ways to escape. Not having come up with much in the way of good ideas, she's been watching the Recruits doing whatever in the world they're up to. Meanwhile, whenever the toads have been distracted, she's been sorting through the debri that has been chucked at them, finding some pebbles that were encased in the soil that had been chucked at them and hiding them away in her stone pouch. It had been emptied when she was captured, but the toads aren't searching them every day. She's also found a sharp stone. As the croaks start to increase in volume, the Corporal looks up from rolling the soil into balls (there's a lot of clay in this soil) and rolls her eyes instead. "Great. Y'shoulda tried beltin' 'im unconscious first." She pulls out her sharp stone and hides it in her sleeve, gaze darting around the cage to see if she can find a way to open it. She's been looking for that this whole time.

Nilear starts to get nervous all over as Isla keeps singing and he grabs a couple of thrown rocks in his paw too and tenses. When Isla springs he does too and gets right up to the bars before throwing the rocks at the toad, trying to get him to loosen his grip.

"GIVE!" Isla hollers at the toad, gripping the spear and yanking back on it, hard. It sends flames of pain through her swollen arm, and she has to grit her teeth. For a moment, the shock of the sensation sets her world to spinning, but she powers through. It's not hard to, the adrenaline is coursing through her now, narrowing her focus but dulling her pain. Kicking out through the bars, the doe bares her teeth at the guard. "GIVE!" Felicity's remarks are ignored, but filed away for later complaint-sessions with her fellow recruits, should she ever see them again. Should any of them see anyone outside of these cages, again. She pushes that thought away, too.

The toad does give, leaping back with a howl. It manages to spare a moment to glare daggers at the two bystanders who aren't doing anything - and who continue to do both but watch, having finished crying for help - before the guard picks up a stone and hurls it at the spear thief. By now some toads had heeded the croaks, and a few more amphibians armed with spears make their way over. They're taking their sweat time, though, not really wanting to deal with problems today.

Felicity steps up beside the Recruits, sharp rock in paw. "Mmm...may'ap 'twasn't as bad an idea as I thought. Least we got a real weapon now. Y'know 'ow t'use a spear?" She pats her waist, forgetting for a moment that her sling had been confiscated. Instead she gets another rock out of her stone pouch, still looking for a way out. Could they push the roof off?

Nilear ducks his head as the rock is thrown back even though it's not thrown at him. As soon as it doesn't hit him he looks up quickly and looks victorious "Ha! I can't believe that worked" he does a little mocking jig and laughs at the toad "Yah warty idiots!" he seems relieved for the first time since they were caught. He looks to Felicity "Better with a sword but it got covered in the trainin'!" he looks back at the toad with the unconcerned back up slowly approaching "So wot's the plan?" he asks Isla.

Victory! There's a flash of pride - good ideas. She has them, sometimes. The pride is short lived, as the sudden release of the spear sends Isla stumbling backwards, and she falls to the ground with a 'WHUMP'... But she's holding a spear when she does so. "Let's party!" The doe yelps, tears of pain springing unbidden to her eyes every time she uses her left arm - luckily she's right-pawed. But she doesn't use the spear to attack - no, she knows her strengths. They're in her head. Scrambling to the far side of the enclosure, away from the guards, she jams the spear through the bars, stabbing the tip into the mud and using the shaft as a lever. She just needs to bend, break, or lift the cage enough to allow an opening - if it can work. She's lifted the troupe's cart out of the mud with less, before - but she's making it up as she goes along. "KEEP 'EM BUSY!" She hollers in response to Nilear, not bothering with rank right now. She's a recruit - what's the worst they can do, demote her?
She's got a plan, of course she's got a plan. "Th'plan is to improvise!"

The single guard, now, thoroughly angry, bends to toss another rock, more viciously this time, at the hares. The two other toads start backing away from the cage and the enraged guard. More toads gather around now, and it seems their plan is to chuck rocks at the offending hares. "Glag! Glag!" They croak as a chant, letting Isla be even as some amphibians stand by with evil grins. "Croak."

Felicity points to one corner of the cage. "Covah those 2 sides?" She orders to Nilear as she darts to the opposite corner. Tossing rocks back at the toads, she glances around to double check if they're surrounded or not. "EULALIA! Come and see th' colour o' y'insides, toad scum!!"

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Nilear tries to dodge rocks and gets hit by more than he avoids "Keep the busy how? By bein' target practice?!" he shouts back at Isla before doing what Felicity tells him and getting to the other corner. He too starts throwing the rocks back and shouting angrily "Sod off! Yah smell worse than my grandda's armpit, go die in a ditch!"

She's throwing all of her weight into leveraging the cage-top off of their pit, and every ounce of Isla shows that strain and effort. Her arm aches and burns, the pain nearly blinding her, but every sinewy muscle in the lithe teen is twitching and flexing with the effort. Her head is ducked as the thrown rocks dig their stony teeth into her hide, nipping worse than those biting insects ever could. She never thought she'd miss the bugs. "B-Budge! Ya stoopid thing!" She pants through gritted teeth. "Gimme a paw!" She hollers to someone, anyone.

The efforts of the hares are met by laughs - it seems many of the armed toads present find them entertaining. And who could blame them? Since cage fights with 'Erg' had been stopped after Zolomon's faked death, there hasn't been much to do in toad village. However, some are deadset on stopping the hares, especially now that two of their number are knocked out by the captive's throws. A few bunch together infront of were Isla is letting the cage, spears ready, waiting for the breakout with a few jabs through the cage here and there. However, these toad don't really want to kill the hares, just try to get them back in their cage - the hares are quite literally all they have for fun for the coming winter.

"'Elp 'er, Recruit! I'll do m'best t'keep 'em at bay," Felicity orders, barely avoiding getting knocked unconscious by a rock. The cut she sustained when they were captured is reopened a little, but she ignores the blood as she chucks rocks back at the toads and then tries to grab one of the spears being poked at the younger doe. Stuffing her sharp rock into her stone pouch, she tugs on whatever spear she grabs with both of her strong arms, silently grateful for all the exercises she's done in the Patrol in her life. "EULALIAAA!! Gimme that blasted spear, you slimy excuse f'r a doorstop!"

Nilear doesn't need telling twice as he's already fed up of being pelted with rocks. He'll have more bumps than the toads soon. He springs over and grabs the spear too, pulling down sharply with his weight put in to it "Come on! Move the soddin' thing!"

One of the toads is surprised when Felicty grabs their spear. He really shouldn't be but they just don't learn from the mistakes of others. He tugs back on it with an angry croak but two others are quick to take their attention off of Isla and aim their poking spears towards Felicity now. They don't want them getting another spear!

Felicity kicks at the offending spears and, while keeping a grip on the spear she has, leaps back and intentionally falls to the muddy floor of the pit/cage/thing. She's gross anyway, so it doesn't really matter to her anymore. "Keep goin'!" she orders the Recruits.

The toad stubbornly refuses to let go but regrets it as Felicity leaps back and takes the spear and the toad with it. The spear finally comes free of his grip as the toad collides with the cage bars hard and flops against them a bit dazed.

Felicity has a spear! Yay! She leaps up and goes to stab the toad she took it from, then whirls and starts stabbing at toads that just get much too close. "EULALIA! Blood an' vinegar! Tha's whot y'get f'capturin' Patrollahs! 'SSS DEATH!!"

The dazed toad looks surprised again as he's stabbed and gurgles, struggling for a second before he lies against the bars dead. They now have two spears and the recruits are struggling to get the cage open still. This was getting out of hand but the toads had tried poking them with spears and they'd tried throwing rocks at them! They were all out of ideas and angrily croaked as then backed up quickly just out of Felicity's range when she starts stabbing all over the place.

Felicity whirls 'round, glaring at the gathered amphibians murderously. "Tha's right, y'ugly mugs. Get close an' y'll get a taste o' m'spear, wot!!" The Runner refuses to take into consideration the fact that she never really mastered using a spear -- swords are more her thing. And slings. But she can stab through the bars of a cage pretty well, right? She keeps slowly spinning, spear level, ready to find a toad to end its life. "Come a little closah -- haven't done th' dance o' battle in quite a while, wot! EULALIAAAAAA!!"

A couple of the toads at least prod the dead one off of the bars and far enough to grab him and drag him out the way. None of them seem to want to be the next one to go forward but the biggest takes charge and shoves one forward while he circles around to try and get behind Felicity and attack from there.

Felicity wasn't born yesterday. Noting that the shoved one was, well, shoved forward, she whirls, following the sneaky one with her gaze and the spear. "Oh, no, y'don't," she growls. "'M not gonna let y'get be'ind me THAT easily, y'stupid blaggahd."

Meanwhile across in the dunes a tent has been set up for the officers with all the maps and reports on a little folding table so they can sit there and stare at them for hours. That's what Greg's been doing with them anyway. Staring and thinking. He's not even sure quite where his mind has wandered in his attempts to run over the plans they have and iron out the problems.

Terrence, who is standing behind the officers, is present if only because on of the maps has his basic plan outlined on it. The corporal remains silent, watching his higher ups staring and waiting for the moment some hare speaks.

Gregorian runs a paw over his face and finally sits up straighter "Corporal? Could yah run through the plan one more time?" He must have run through it plenty of times already but the waiting around is bothering him.

Varus has, of course, brought out the same veterans he brought a few days ago to save this sorry lot. He has faith in their many seasons of accumulated experience. "'Asn't th' Corporal already explained it?" He says out loud, as he enters the tent. "I'm goin' in wi' mah group t' create a diversion, while you free th' prisonahs..."

Looking between the major and sergeant, the corporal begins, again. "Er, Sah, like the Majah says, the goal is to get the toads as far away from the prisoners as possible, wot," Terrence points to the map, drawing a line with his finger to the opposite side from the captives. "And fight them over here. While you and me, Sarge, go with the smaller group to free the prisoners using hatchets to cut down the wooden bars, wot."

Gregorian throws out a salute as the major appears "Numerous times sah" he nods at the corporal's repetition of the plan "This exercise hasn't exactly been without it's problems. The last thing I want is more casualties"

Varus gestures to the old veterans he brought with him. "Trust me. If all goes accordin' t' plan, there should be no casualties." He harrumps. "I paw-picked th' most experienced hares in th' mountain, wot..."

"Sah, I actually have something that might help with that, wot." Terrence says, rolling out a large chart on what little free space is left on the command table, "Is this."

The image is that of two rectangles, with several smaller circle to their side and back. "It's a battle field deployment - the runners, once done setting fire to everything the toads hold dear, lure the slimy beasts to the main fighting force, deployed like this - two sets of three ranks deep, with every hare in this armed with long spears. The runners go to this formations flanks, protecting it in case toads try to go around. A fair amount of archers behind this rain their fury on the toads, wot."

The toads have lost two spears and a fellow toad and seemed no closer to getting the weapons back as they were finding it hard to even get near the cage. The longer it went on the angrier they were getting and the louder the croaking became with more toads coming out to see what was happening and laugh at the idiots who let the prisoners get hold of their weapons.

Gregorian nods once to Varus before Terrence draws his attention with additional planning and he looks over the diagrams "Somethin' from yah old reports I'm guessin'?" his ears perk a little as the swamps seem to be getting louder again "Hm. How soon could yah sort this tahgethah? They're soundin' excited again" the last time that happened Zolomon stumbled out of the swamps.

Varus harrumps, and nods. "Yes, I found th' Corporal's battle plan to be very well thought out, wot. 'E's got a good 'ead on 'is shouldahs, wot." His ears perk, and turns to glance outside. "Right, somethin's 'appenin'... I suggest we kick this plan inta high gear..."

The corporal, whose ears were up and alert at the sarge's words, rubs the back of his neck, saying to Varus, "Well, thank you, sah..." He taps the paper, looking at the sergeant with a rueful grin, "Inspired by, more than anything, Sah, wot. Usually stuff like is reserved for major battles and the like - I don't think I've seen this used by a relatively small group such as us here before, but I think it'll work... If it does, the runners can move forward and envelope the toads, and you, Sah," Terrence turns towards the major, "Can deal with the blighters any way you want - Even set them on fire, wot, as I've heard you'd like to! Though I can't imagine the smell being all that pleasant, wot wot."

"Well, I guarantee the toads won't be anywhere near as organised" Greg replies as he gets up and heads out of the tent "Everyone! Front and centah! Runnahs ovah here. Fightin' force Corporal Terrence will give yah some additional instructions. The toads are makin' a dreadful racket and we intend tah put an end tah it tahday!" he yells around the little camp as he starts directing hares in to their groups.

Varus hrmms. "Truth be told, Lad, th' fire is chiefly f'r their village, wot. I want it burned t' th' ground, an' I want th' toads driven outta th' area..." He steps out of the tent. "Right! Fightahs, atteeeen-shun!" He's speaking to his grizzled old veterans now, who look like they're ready for some toad soup. "Yahr wi' me. We're gonna provide th' distraction, wot!"

"GO, GO, GO!" We re-join our friends in toad captivity, covered in sweat, mud, blood, and other questionable swamp good. Sufficient effort and injury leaves a gap just enough for a body to squeeze through between the top-cage over their pit, and the mud itself. Isla isn't wasting any time, and is dragging herself through the mud, leading with her spear. Of course, no toads will take kindly to that sort of blatant escape, so she hopes her back-up can watch her back long enough for her to find her feet - if she can create a distraction, she might be able to draw some of them away from the others! Of course, she has to get all the way out, first. Alive.

Once the major is done, the corporal gives the instructions to the troops, emphasizing the point about the spears, and, once finished, moves over to stand by Sergeant Greg. He starts to put a hatchet at his side and his rapier on his other, saying, "Looks like I'm with you for all this, Sah."

Nilear is still weaponless so Felicity may have to do most of the defending and distracting work but he does at least go to give Isla a paw up to the top of the cage, throws a few rocks while she's trying to regain her feet and then he jumps up to scramble after her. The toads are out in numbers by now but most are there to watch not help. The figure the guards must have this covered still as they've mostly surrounded the pit and try to force the hares back with their spears.

Gregorian nods once to Terrence "Hope for a good distraction and poorly made cages then lad" he signals their readiness to Varus and then to the runners "Runnahs! Yah know yah job, draw them from the cages. Get tah it and stay safe" he says before he starts off in to the swamps, following paths he knows to be safe through the marshlands.

Varus throws a salute, as does his group of veterans. "Right ho, Lads... Blood 'n' vinegah, wot!" He leads them out behind Greg's group, following the same path carefully.

This isn't going to work. The thought smacks Isla, hard, about the same time that the flat of a large stone smacks her, hard. With a yelp, she has to throw her arms over her head, half in, half-out of their prison. The spear in her paw waves wildly, blindly, as her legs scrabble at the sides of the pit to propel her the rest of the way out. It's not going to work - but she isn't going to die in a cage, that much she's decided. "Ack! Bloomin'! Hellsteeth! Scuts'n guts!" She swears in a steady stream, struck by rocks and nicked by speartips. The toads may not want to kill their entertainment, but they don't seem to have much of an understanding of the long-term effects of their attacks.

With a dry chuckle, Terrence responds, "Certainly, sah!" he tightens his belt, adjusting were his sword hangs so as to make running easier, "They are made by toads, Sarge, so I think a few minutes of good l'hacking will do the job, wot!" The corporal's following Greg closely through the marsh, now, paw on his rapier.

Felicity leaps forward to stab at the toads who are in turn stabbing at Isla. "EULALIAAA! DEATH BEFORE SURRENDAH! EULLAAAALLLIIIIAAAA!!!" She stabs out in many different directions, trying to keep the toads away from her comrades, trusting that they'll help her get out, too. "We'll needta get Dom! I think 'e's somewhere around 'ere, wot! EULALIAAA!!"

Nilear throws back rocks where he can until he gets a toad in the head and they fall close enough for him to grab their weapon and join the fight against the spears "He killed Private Zolomon!" he shouts, arguing against Felicity over going for Dom "He might kill us all too! We should just try and get out of here"

The closer the rescue party get the more they can hear and Greg's never heard a frog yelling eulalia before. He curses under his breath "They're fightin' alright..." he looks back at the group quickly "Stick tah the plan but get a move on!" he hurries up quickly and signals the runners to get in position while he takes his group to the other side to get in place ready for the distraction as soon as Varus and the fighters are in place too.

Felicity glares at the argumentative Recruit. "I don't bloody care what 'e did, we are NOT leavin' 'im be'ind an' that's an ordah, Recruit! If 'e tries t'kill us, I'll deal with 'im. Don't argue wi' y'superiahs!!"

Felicity's actions do provide enough of a distraction to allow Isla to rise to a shaky stand, leaving room for another to slither out of the cage. "MAKE A RUN FAH IT!" She shouts, tucking her head, pointing her spear dead ahead, and charging to the left, trying to isolate a target, trying to keep herself alive just a little longer. She's hot all over - she knows it's not all from the exertion or the marsh's ecosystem. She's hot. She's sick - even the tiniest of wounds can bloom into an infection strong enough to kill a badger - isn't that what they'd been taught in their classes? "Shut up, Nilear, I'm gonna find Dom. GET OU' YOU LOT!" She's running, she's yelling, she's probably dying, and she has no idea that help is on the way. Let's find the big guy.

Varus can hear the yelling. "Yes, that's Felicity! Right, 'urry it up, mates!" He breaks into a trot now, and his troops follow, making their way toward the village as quickly as possible. It's already in view, so he yells, "Eulaliaaaa! BLOOD 'N' VINEGAH!" to get the toads undivided attention.

"No plan survives first contact..." Terrence mutters with a wry grin, hearing the patrol war cry - and the croaks. "Yes, sah!" The corporal picks up his pace, hot on the Sarge's tail. Fiddling with the hilt of his sword, he gets into position alongside Gregory and the rescue party. "So, eh, wot now, sarge? Seems we might have a fight on our paw, wot, no matter what the majah's up to."

Nilear thinks they're all insane but he gives up, he's not going to argue "Right. Fine" he snaps as he gets a toad in the gut "We're all goin' tah die anyway lets go rescue the insane behemoth"

Gregorian snorts at Terrence's words. That always seems to ring true. As Varus' group starts yelling the toads that were just watching or relaxing quickly realise there's a second attack and a lot of them take off with angry yells towards Major's group. Greg holds his group there long enough to give them a good head start "Well I'm nevah one tah say no tah a fight. No yellin' though, keep it fast and quiet we don't want the rest of them comin' back this way" he says as he going quick and silent until the first thing a toad knows about it is a hammer to the head.

Felicity has escaped the cage! Yay! Roaring her battle cry, she stabs out semi-expertly at the toads with her spear. Making a mental note to let their superiours know once they get back that the Recruit needs more training on teamwork, she keeps her subordinates in sight. "Isla, wait for us, that's an ordah! 'SSSS DEATH TO YE!!" she informs a toad as she skewers him. At the sound of the shouting from the rescue party, she schreeches out her loudest 'eulalia' yet to let them know exactly where the (now escaped) prisoners are. Will they be able to reach Dom's cage?

"He's our insane behemoth!" Isla counters Nilear, swinging to follow Felicity and the other recruit. She drops into a charge at one of the armed toads and, whether she meant to or not, her spear makes contact. Burying itself into a toads gut, her momentum carries her forward longer than she had meant to, and when she manages to grind to a halt, her fists are almost pressed to the toad's stomach, the spear protruding far out of its back. She's face to face with it, her own eyes wide and terrified as they stare into his - wide and terrified. A throaty 'hurk' sprays her face with blood, and she staggers backwards still holding the spear. It looses itself with a sickening sound, leaving the toad to slump to the ground. Isla is frozen, flecked with gore and mud. She's never killed anyone before.

Varus is rushing in there like death, yelling loudly with his compatriots, all with weapons drawn. "Right, let's kill these monstahs, burn th' village, 'n' go 'ome!"

"Yes Sah!" The corporal mutters as he draws his weapon, rushing after Greg. Soon, another toad falls, Terrence's rapier stuck in it's back. Pulling the blade out of the dead creature, the corporal slices at another toad who had started to turn to see why its fellow didn't answer. It too slumps to the ground, a look of surprise on its face as it gurgles out. "Over there, Sah!" The buck points with his sword to the three escaped hares, before cutting his way through the toads towards them.

Gregorian sees the escapees after Terrence points them out "Well, how nice, they saved us the trouble of gettin' them out of the cage" he says with pleasant surprise as he breaks another toad skull "Lets get ovah there before they finish the fight for us" he gestures quickly for his troop to break through the toads quickly to get the captives some back up fast.

Felicity catches up with Isla and curses under her breath. "ISLA!" She goes to grab the maiden and give her a shake. "Keep movin' afore that 'appens t'you, an' that's an ordah! MOVE!" Literally the opposite of the way the Corporal prefers dealing with this, but they don't have time for anything other than tough love right now. Going to push the Recruit forward, the Runner keeps stabbing at the toads around them, shouting her war cry as they contu=inue to fight their way to Dominik's cage.

She's never killed anyone before, and it takes that a solid minute to sink into Isla's head. She's frozen, at some point jostled by something but she doesn't feel it. The shouts sound distant, in fact, the sudden brevity of her actions must have broken something - because she could almost swore she heard more hares yelling. Felicity's voice sounds distant and muffled, but reality slowly pieces back together. It's with the shake that she comes back to herself, though her gaze is far away. She stares at Felicity, as if confused by how she got there, but the corporal's actions are enough. It's an act - compartamentalize, move on. "B-Blood an' vinegar!" She manages to croak out, her vision blurred by tears. She scrubs them away with the back of a paw, and spins, spear pointed, and with a deep breath, follows after Felicity and Nilear, searching for Dom's cage.

Varus's force meets the oncoming horde of amphibians with a clash of blades, copious croaking, and plenty of stabbing to be had. The first toads to crash into Varus' group go down with little more than a collective "URK," as the seasoned veterans prove far more disciplined and skilled at swordplay. "Right, y' ugly wart-faced buffoons, keep it comin'! Y' got faces not even yahr mothahs could love!"

For his part, Terrence is close now to Isla and the others - and Dom's cage. As he hacks down another toad, he waves his free paw up in the air, calling, "EULALIA! Patrol hares, over here!" There's no point in being silent now, not when the three hares one's supposed help rescue are the center of the toads attention.

Dominik's cage was situated a good distance away from the others...whether that was intentional or merely pure coincidence is anyone's guess. Being that it was the toads that decided, it's more than likely completely by accident. Still, the attention drawn by Isla and the other prisoners during their initial 'attack' with the stolen spears was more than adequate enough to draw away most of if not all of the toads that had been hanging around Dominink's enclosure. Finding the space around the cage now almost completely abandoned, the hulking hare that crouches in the corner ever so slowly rises up to his full height. Making his way towards the section of the cage where Dom had spend a lot of his time gnawing at various spots in the bars during times when the toads weren't watching him quite as closely, the large hare lingers there a moment, his head tilting as he looks over the section of cage. A slow grin spreads over his muzzle, and he rears back with a strong footpaw, leg muscles tensing, as he swings it forward and connects with the bars. There is a loud 'ker-ACKKK' as Dom manages to actually fell the entire wall of the cage; it sloooowly teeters a moment, before toppling forward and hitting the ground with a loud 'fa-WUMPF'. Toad construction at its finest, ladies and gentlehares. The path now open and clear for the loopy hare, he steps out of his cage, the commotion in the rest of the village not too far away reaching his ears. There is an escape path if he were to simply go straight ahead, however immediate escape is -not- in the large hare's plans. Eyes narrowing, Dom crouches down and grips the bars of the felled cage wall. With a loud snap, he breaks off two of the wooden bars, their ends sharp and jagged. Peering down at them, that smile crosses his muzzle again. The fearsome hare rises up again, made all the more terrifying by his rough and disheveled condition; his normally rugged and handsome face is scarred, streaked with the pale yellow of the toadblood he had used for facepaint as well as his own dried blood, and his ears are folded against the back of his head. His uniform is torn in various spots, dirty and unkempt...but that is the least of his concerns at the moment. Turning, he searches out the nearest area for any nearby toads...he heads in the direction of the fighting, one thing and one thing only on his mind.

They just need to find Dominik and then... "I'll be dunked an'quartered." Isla gapes. "Th'Patrol is 'ere!" She can hear Terrence hollering, but Isla is still running in the last direction she knew Dominik to be contained, hot on Nilear and Felicity's heels. She makes some stabbing motions at the enemy, but she seems hesitant to make contact again - that was horrible. That was truly awful - but she'll deal with it later. On with the show, Isla! "...It looks like he didn't need our bally 'elp afterall." Her own warpaint is not as intentional as Dom's, which makes his all the more terrifying. While Isla is smeared in blood, mud, and grime, it's the random chaos of the situation - not... Whatever it is that big guy has going on. "Right." She changes course, heading for Terrence's voice calling out to them. They might survive after all!

Varus and his old fogies are cutting down toads, left and right. "C'mon now, boys! On t' th' village!" He assumes the rescue is going well. At least he hopes. In the meantime, one of his hares, who's carrying a torch, finally sets fire to the nearest hut that counts for a toad house, and it goes up like a bonfire...

A very loud and very vulgar curse escapes Terrence when he sees the three run off in the exact opposite direction as him. He rushes off after them, batting away toads left and right with the flat of his blade. "WHAT THE BLOODY-" The corporal comes to stop when he gets a good look at what has become of Dominik (and the others), his jaw hanging open for a moment. "Wot..." He shakes his head, speechless, but sees the three hares now coming his way. "I think Pvt. Dom'll be alright for now, wot!" He calls to them, giving a long, savage cut to a nearby toad. "You three, we need to move it! NOW!" The rest of the rescue party are nearby, fighting, even as smoke bellows up from the village. Croaks grow more and more frantic around them all.

Dominik seems to have some form of tunnel vision at the moment; the other Patrollers are there, but Dom seems to look right past them, his pace increasing in speed as he finally spots what he was looking for. Lifting one of the improvised spears into the air, Dom's voice booms out, echoing throughout the marshes and more than likely striking fear into the hearts of those toads who can hear it, and who now can see their once-revered 'Erg' now out of his cage, and about to put some serious hurt on toadflesh. "ERG!!!!!!" Following this with a roar that builds deep within his chest before exploding outwards, Dom is like a hare possessed. Striding into the nearest group of toads, he cuts them down like stalks of corn. Very slimy, warty and green corn. Using the wooden cage bars as both a striking and a stabbing implement, Dom knocks toads left and right, the creatures falling in front of him. He doesn't care who they are, if they are even remotely toadlike, they are struck down with a vengeance. Isla's changed course was likely a wise idea.

She just has to get to the other hares, and then this nightmare will be as good as over. As she rushes forward, Isla trips over something and slides a solid half-meter through muck. Turning around to see what it is that caught up her foot, she sees another dead toad. She blanches, but goes to rise - in time to see one of the ugly blighters raising a webbed hand to fling a rock into her face. On instinct, she stabs out again with the spear, stabbing up through the soft, papery skin of the thing's chin. It's dead instantly, going limp where it stands and collapsing on top of her. Isla has to shove and scramble, panicking slightly, to squeeze out from beneath its rubbery weight. "No, no, no-" Her breathing is ragged, but she has the sense to yank her spear free again. "Corporal!" She gasps out, joining Terrence, the Sarg, and their group.

The fire the old retired Sergeant Mayweather set has taken hold, and begins to spread quickly. Soon over half the huts are ablaze, and the flames are encroaching on the prisoner pens. Varus hacks down another toad, only to have two more pop up. They appear to be enraged to have their playthings escape, and their village turn into an inferno, and they don't seem to be too keen about retreating. Fortunately these old hares have seen a thing or two, and they more than match the amphibians' strength...

"Brought a hatchet if you'd rather use that, wot!" Terrence says while dispatching a toad with a quick jab to the throat, a wide grin on his face now the hares are back. "Bloody-well good to see you still in one piece, Isla - same goes for you two!" He calls over to Nilear and Felicity. "Now, then, time to get you lot back home, wot!" The corporal has enough sense about him to keep a very wide berth from were Dom was having his 'fun', and the sarge's group starts to back slowly away from the now fully panicked and enraged toads, with the hare's swords and spears at the ready and slaying any amphibian that comes too close. "Maybe you and the others should stick behind us, recruit," Terrence mutters to Isla, hacking at another toad. "Let us fight, and get a bit of respite, wot wot!"

Dominik currently has no intentions of going anywhere but where his instincts are taking him...and that is in the direction of those groups of toads who are fleeing and panicked as their village is quickly becoming engulfed in flames. As Dom continues to cut through the unfortunate toads who are either not fast enough to get away or just too stupid to realize that fighting him is a lost cause, he seems to be laser focused on one toad in particular. Said toad seems to notice that Dom's eyes had now fallen upon him, and he gives a panicked croak as he turns and tries to flee. To no avail, however, as Dom reaches down with a hefty paw and grabs him by the back of the neck. "Glurg! ERG DAL GLOG!" Dom croaks in a very toadlike manner, but with enough of his own deep voice in there to make the odd words sound more intimidating. He lifts the toad...who seemingly had been the one who stood on the high platform during Dom's fights...and leans forward, taking a nice sized bite out of the side of his neck. Jerking his head to the side, he tears the toad practically in two using his paws as well, letting the corpse drop to the ground. Stepping on it, Dom continues onwards, following after fleeing toads instead of heading in the other direction with his comrades.

Everything is going up in flames, and those fires reflect in Isla's eyes as she turns her horrified gaze back onto the village as she flees it. A wordless nod answers Terrence, her teeth gritted so hard that she can feel the tension headache building. She drops the spear without a word and takes the hatcheStick behind. Get respite. Look present as she dissociates further from the reality of the situation - which is due in part to trauma, and in greater part to the infection that has been brewing in her blood the past few days. The recruit is not in great shape, so looking up in time to see - from a distance - what Dom is doing, further pales the pink skin beneath her fur. "I'd like t'formally request a leave of absence." She informs Terrence, voice devoid of any emotion - which is a tell in and of itself.

Varus catches sight of Dom passing, as do the toads the veterans are fighting with, tooth and nail. The toads start to scatter, but Varus stands his ground, as do a couple of his comrades. The rest figure it's best not to cross the crazed-looking hare, but the Major is not easily cowed. "PRIVATE DOMINIK. TURN AROUND 'N' RETREAT! THAT'S AN ORDAH!" The flames are leaping skyward, turning the surroundings into a hot, hellish landscape. It's fully out of control now, and even the marsh is burning. Retreat is the only true option left, but Varus is stubborn. "I'M GIVIN' YOU AN ORDAH, PRIVATE! NOW!" He knows it's a losing proposition.

The corporal looks her over with a frown. "Afraid I'm not the one you should go to for that, wot!" He guts a toad, though their onslaught, at least against the rescue party, is lessening - especially with how Erg the Destroyer is ploughing through them like grass. Terrence spares another glance at Isla, this time letting a little concern creep into his voice. "Look, once we-" He sticks an amphibian, its blood spraying out. "-get back, you can! You don't look so good, wot." As the swamp goes up in flame, the corporal looks around wildly, letting out another curse even as the major's orders ring out. "You heard him! BACK, NOW!"

Dominik,despite the growing heat from the surrounding flames and the shouted orders from his superior officers, comes to a stop where he is standing, his back to the group. Toads continue to flee all around him, heading into the burning marshes to certain death either in the bogs or by the fire itself, and Dom seems to know this as he lets a few of them go without feeling the wrath of his two wooden cage bars. Paws gripping the bars tightly, the hulking hare grits his teeth, and he half-turns to look back at the other Patrollers, namely Varus. The look within his eyes is frightening and unlike any version of him that the older hare had seen before...steely, cold and absolutely unrelenting. The toadblood upon his face coupled with the light from the fire does not help him look any less terrifying. "Not Dominik," he booms out. "Erg." He then turns back around and follows after the fleeing toads into the marshes beyond the village. The screams and croaks of the toads can be heard in the direction that the hare had taken, his fury being taken out on them even as they flee. No one would be spared.

As long as orders continue to be 'get out of there', Isla is happy to follow them. But something about Dominik is genuinely terrifying - there's a loose danger to his actions that seems more unhinged than she expected coming from training and discipline. There's something else there, or something missing, and she doesn't like it either way. She wants to go home. Isla nods vacantly to Terrence's answer, her grip tightening on her hatchet as she raises it to rest in a defensive stance. "Did Private Dominik just defect?"

Varus had expected that response. Unlike many of the younger hares, he's seen that look before. That madness. He's had subordinates succumb to it in the past... And not all recovered. Dominik is a lost cause. The three elder hares who stood with him to stare down the unhinged Private watch Varus, wordlessly, as if awaiting an order. Time almost seems to stop, in fact, as the old hare seems to be frozen, in place, watching one of his most promising soldiers disappear into the flames and smoke. "R-right..." he falters, something rather out of character for the Major, but he'd dared to let himself become overconfident. "Right chaps... Let's get the 'ell outta here..." The fact that he cursed is telling, too. The toads are all either dead, fleeing, or too demoralized to put up a fight. The fight on his end is over.

"No...I don't think so." Terrence slowly responds, eyes now on the self proclaimed 'Erg' and Varus. "Leastways not to the toads, it seems, wot." He winces as another shriek comes from Dom's direction. By now, most toads around the rescue party are dead or fleeing, too. Soon, the corporal turns away from the AWOL private and his victims (and the major), facing the recruit with sympathetic look. "Isla! Don't worry about Dom anymore! That's not for you to deal with, wot, and that's an ordah! Now, come on - I really don't like how your arm looks, wot!" Starting to jog alongside the others as they retreat, the corporal waves Isla to follow. "Sooner we get back the better, wot, and we need the healers to have a look at you."

Her arm looks bad - and the rest of her isn't too great, either. Isla gives another tired nod. "Yes, Corporal." She agrees, trotting to keep up. "I'll be 'appy to put this place behind me." Will they look for Dominik - or, 'Erg' now, as he seems to prefer? She can't know, and only distantly does she care - her spear pierces flesh with a wet, squealch. It's so much easier than it should have been - just sacks of water... But no, she's not holding a spear. Isla gives a shake of her head. The show must go on - you can't be focused on the performances of the past. "Yes." She agrees again, though it isn't clear to what, as she hastens to stay with the group. She's happy to put this place behind her.

Varus gathers his wits, and sighs, shaking his head. He trudges over to join the other group, counting heads. Amazingly, it looks like none of the hares that took part in the rescue were killed, though there are injuries to be found. The Major himself is sporting a nasty cut to his left shoulder that he doesn't even seem to realize yet. But that can be taken care of later. "Isla, Nilear, Felicity... We got Zolomon, too... But wot about Private Konner?" He resolutely marches away from the flames, which are akin to an inferno now, as pockets of swamp gas ignite and help the fire to spread. It is likely that the entire marsh could burn before all is said and done...

Glancing at her again at the second 'yes', a brief look of confusion plays out on Terrence's face as he runs. Though he quickly goes back to the task at hand: avoiding the spouts of flame that keep popping up in their way - the hare already has quite the singe from one he nearly stepped in. He can ask the recruit about the matter when they get back safe and sound (and once she's seen a few healers). "Come on, Isla, gotta keep moving!" The corporal slows to better match her pace and to ease the strain on his burn. "We'll all be glad to be rid of this sinkhole, let me tell you, wot." He raises his head to look over at the major, hearing his words. "Isla - was Konner with you lot?"

"Zolomon made it?" The news brightens the recruit, but the question which follows it sets her face to a deepening frown. "Nilear, Zolomon, Dominik, an' Felicity were with us, sah." Isla answers Varus, anxiety arching into her tone with a nervous glance to Terrence as he slows to match her pace. "I haven't seen Konnor since we were still tryin' ta complete Serge's course." A spout of flame earns a wince. It means there are only a few places the buck could be - and if he were safe at the mountain, it's likely that some news would have reached her superiors about it. "'E wasn't with us."

Varus dares to glance back the flames behind them, as they continue their strategic retreat. "Well, if 'e's out 'ere... We'll find 'im... Eventually." Likely dead. "Come on, you lot... Pick up th' pace! This whole swamp'll be in flames by mornin'! 'Op to it!"

"I see." Terrence doesn't say much more on the matter, thinking back to that ill begotten day. He certainly isn't going to tell the major at this moment - besides, Varus has more than likely guessed the private's probable fate, and the state they will find Konner in. In an attempt to distract Isla from this, however, he says in a more comforting manner, "Yes, Zolomon made it back - he's safe at the mountain now, wot, recovering. Dom - well, Erg - helped him fake his death, or so he said, wot." The corporal dances around another burst of fire with a curse, reaching out a paw to try and stop Isla from stepping near it. "Yes, Sah!"

She will learn of it, eventually. Until then, Isla is going to need some time to process what has happened... And to deal with the infection slowly chewing its way through her. It's going to be a rough few days, with or without the news of Konnor's demise. Had he been the one to holler at her? No, no that was someone else... It's all very muddled in her head. "Yessah!" She parrots, jolting at the sudden barrier Terrence creates. "Thanks." She nods, following. It's time to go home.

In the distance behind the retreating hares, the Toad village is one larger inferno amidst several smaller ones caused by peat and swamp gas. The hares have by now managed to mostly outrun the flames. Dominik, or Erg, as he chose to be called, is lost, for now, as are several recruits. This training exercise was an unmitigated disaster... But many hares showed valor in the field. There are sure to be lasting repercussions from this day.

Ol'random · Logs

Pvt. Isla,
Cpl. Terrence,
Mj. Varus,
and PFC Zolomon.
(+ Several Toads but you weren't here for them, were you now?)

After Zolomon's escape and return...

Following her, quite frankly, traumatizing encounter with the village 'witch doctor', Isla has been quiet. The circus performer turned military upstart is curled in the corner of her wooden cage, cradling her injured arm with wide-eyed disbelief. She can't look at the wound for too long, because every time she tries, her head goes weak and woozy and her blood runs too cold - she can't afford to pass out. She's afraid to sleep - but her brain is still whirring. So, maybe magic tricks weren't the best approach... But what else does she have? She can't fight like Dom, she knows death waits on that path... Dancing? No, she knows that's a dead end before she even considers it. Instead, she pushes herself to her feet. "Um. Hello?" She hollers at the guards.

Having lost faith in their hero who failed to kill the now escapee (especially now that no new fights had been arranged), some toads had migrated to watch what they had heard is a hare magician among the captives. Several look through the bars down at the quiet creature in the corner of the pen, as if expecting something to happen. "Glug..." One mutters as it turns to go, though the others seem intent on sticking it out. One simply doesn't have many options in terms of entertainment in the swamps, so they'll take what they can get. In an effort to make something happen, an amphibian tosses a small stone at Isla with a croak.

"Glug." Isla repeats back, wincing as the rock sails her way, but it doesn't strike her. Favoring her mildly-flayed arm, the hare stoops to pick up the rock, holding it up between her forefinger and thumb, her expression tired. "Now you see it." She mutters, her voice becoming distorted as she struggles to stifle a yawn. "Now..." With a flourish of paw over paw, the exaggerated motions hiding the sleight of hand, the rock "disappears". "You don't." There is little of her usual bravado and showmanship to it, but she is happy to keep up the charade. It's her only lead, right now - though a stroke of brilliance is not forthcoming.

The display satisfies a solid half the toads gathered around, and the one who had been leaving turns when the hare responds. To croaks of encouragements, it picks up a rock of its own, seeing that the previous one managed to work. With a sly grin it quickly snaps its wrist forward, hurling the stone with more force into the cage. The other toads croak excitedly, even the ones who weren't all that impressed by her, with some wondering if the hare will put a curse or something worse on the toad. "Glurg! Har-Glo...?"

Another rock. Isla works to keep a groan from escaping. Her arm hurts too badly to focus on petty annoyances - instead, she picks up the second rock, and holds out a paw. "One more! Uh... Glug glug?" She asks, as, with another set of flourishes meant to do nothing more than distract attention, she procures the first rock from "midair". "I have two!" She holds them up in one paw, while holding up two fingers on her other. "I need -" She holds up a third finger. "Three! One more!"

"Glug, GLUG!" The toads respond, and the hare gets two more rocks than she asked for, with at least one aimed at her arm. She has the attention of the onlookers, now, and every toad's eyes about the pen are on her, waiting to see what she'll do. "Har Kilp, glug, glo-glog?"

"OUCH! You -" She chucks the extra rock back at the offending toad, her vision momentarily blurred by unwanted tears - it hurts. It hurts so bad. She lost a toe to frost bite as a dibbun, and even that didn't hurt like this does - a dull, constant ache. It burns, which she is dimly aware is likely a sign of an infection taking hold to the exposed flesh of her arm. She's sitting in mud, after all. That feeling returns, the deep and unwavering certainty that she will die here - but she compartmentalizes it. It's a show, Isla. It's all a show, so play your part. "Be amazed!" She boasts, slowly beginning to toss the rocks. They are different sizes, so it takes a moment for her to wrap her head around the momentum, the weight - but she does. Slowly, the juggling begins, gaining speed, until the rocks orbit in a clean, perpetual circle about her paws. It's not magic, but if they've never seen it before - it might be close enough. "Oooooh!" She croons. "Ahhhhh!"

The rock misses its target and instead smacks a toad behind it, and croaky chuckles break out from the spectators. A few toads laugh even more at her discomfort, picking up more stones to toss at the poor hare - but they stop to stare in awe as the juggling begins. "Glog-Kilp...?" is heard, muttered, from the amphibians. Soon, as she continues, the toads start chanting as they leap excitedly in the air, "Kilp! Kilp! Kilp!" Causing the hare more harm is forgotten, for now, and all those gathered are enamored with the circle.

Away across the marshland at the patrol camp, Terrence sits within a tent, going over the written report of Zolomon's account. The corporal dips a quill in a traveling bottle of ink as he makes notes and draws up ideas - many of which are rather unpractical, but its not like the hare's wasting his time, waiting as he is for orders or even just more news at this point.

"Yes! Klip!" Isla encourages, slowly raising one foot from the mud. One legged juggling! If only she had the rola-bola, she'd be really impressive. But, alas, her resources are limited. Her talents may be varied and useful for a traveling troupe-hare, but as a Long Patrol fighter? Well. She slows her momentum and tosses the rocks skyward, one at a time, and catches them in turn. A low, sweeping bow is awarded to the toads watching... Think, Isla. Think.

Varus steps into Terrence's tent. "Keepin' up th' papahwork, Corporal? Good show, Lad. Is this wot Zolomon told us?"

The toads, for their part, cheer as she bows, their croaks and shrieks almost painful to hear. "KILP, KILP!" They begin to chant, as if wanting an encore. "Glurg, Har-glo?" Says the toad who had tossed the second stone to its fellows with a cruel smirk. It bends down, grabbing another rock, and, while still the others cheer, it throws the rock at Isla, hard. CROAK.

The corporal looks up, setting the quill aside and standing to salute. "Yes, sah, though I wasn't really doing paperwork, wot." He waves a paw at the notes, saying, "Mostly just ideas I was jotting down."

CRACK! The stone connects with Isla's head, right at the base of her ear, and a blossom of red blooms upon impact. "Ack!" She squeaks in pain, stumbling backwards, stunned by the hit. "Why you..." The hare gives a snarl, but pauses. It's what they want - and she can't give in to those basal urges. There's a way out of this, there has to be, and she isn't going to find it if she's been stoned to death. "If... If you liked that -" She sways as she stoops to pick up the new rock, streaked with her blood, and adds it to her clutch. Juggling four is no issue, but after 6, she is useless... But, for now, she is content keeping them entertained with juggling, the whirr of red visible every several seconds as the bloody rock reaches the apex of its perpetual arc... There's a way ouf of this, she reminds herself. She just needs to find it.

Most of the toads turn on the one who'd hurt the magician, letting out low growling croaks. "Glo-Gush, Gush Glo-Har-eck." The one with the sly smirk backs down, then, cowed, and the amphibians go back to watch the juggling, content.

Varus casts a glance over the parchment. "Ideas, Corporal? Battle plans? Fleet formations? Grocery lists?"

"Eh, a bit of that first one, Majah." Terrence responds with a shrug. "The best thing I can think of is when we go in to get the captives, wot, is that a few runners with hatchets can try to take down the pen, if it's made of woods like Pvt. Zolomon said, sah. Though..." He allows himself a small grin, "Maybe a grocery list is in order if we continue to eat oatmeal like we do, wot wot, sah."

Varus nods, still looking over the sheet. "I'm surprised Zolomon of all beasts managed t' escape, wot... 'E's not th' most... Experienced of Patrollahs, wot."

"Sometimes acts like it, though, sah..." Terrence quickly mutters under his breath, before pointing down at the report. "Even so, Majah, if he got a good look at were our hares are being kept, that helps us immensely. Perhaps a main group can go to the far side of the village away from the cages, wot? Cause a lot of noise and maybe try setting fire to a few toad-huts and whatnot, and others can hack the captives free. Only a basic idea, though, Sah."

Varus harrumps. "I don't suppose Zolomon's report mentions anythin' about Private Dominik, or that strange matin' ritual or sacrifice or wotevah it was th' othah night?"

Terrence stops, thinking for moment, "Er, yes and no - he did mention Pvt. Dom, wot, but nothing of a mating ritual, thank goodness." The corporal starts ordering his papers, corking the ink bottle beforehand. "Dom's being kept in a cage all by himself, wot! Apparently he fights toads the like for the slimly creatures. Should note though, Sah, the report wasn't written by Zolomon but one of the staff officers present for his account."

Varus hmms, nodding his head. "I see... That explains a few things, wot. I may 'ave been a bit... Premature ta think it was a matin' ritual, wot..."

"Maybe, Sah, maybe." Terrence gives an awkward little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Er, here -" the corporal picks up the report, offering it to the major. "It's a short-hand copy of the official thing, Sah, but it's good enough, if you want to look over it, wot. Pvt. Dom's been busy, apparently, and I think all the noise might be from him and his 'matches', sah."

Varus accepts the stack of papers, and looks it over. Terrence has good pensbeastship. "And wot of you, Corporal. Are ya able t' stand up without assistance now?"

Tapping his leg, Terrence nods. "Yes, Sah. Well -it's still in a bit of splint, but I'm recovering well enough to walk with ease now, wot." The corporal's face is still heavily bruised around the stitches, however. "I'll be in top shape soon, Majah, don't you worry about me, wot wot."

Varus looks over the younger hare. "Y' look like death, Lad. 'Owevah, I've not yet regretted you bein' 'ere, even if Jinora would rathah y' remain at the Mountain..."

"Well, sah, my majah's yet to give an order to return." A rueful grin is on Terrence's face. "Until she does, standing orders are to stay around here, wot. And I stopped feeling like death a few days ago, Sah." Chuckling, he adds, "Can't help how I look, now can I, eh, wot?"

Zolomon groans, he had been in the healers tent recovering from his little adventure with the toads, he sits up a little and looks around and rubs his head as if he has a headache.

Varus is still talking to Terrence. "Well, per'aps I ought t' go see if Zolomon 'as woken up again. 'E's in mah patrol, so 'e's mah responsibility, wot..."

Terrence nods, glancing at his papers. "Right, Sah. Though I'd like to have a word with him, it it's possible, sah. He was the first to get captured because he ran on ahead of the group, wot. He probably shouldn't do that again, especially if its in the field and not just training." With a shrug of his shoulder, the corporal continues, "Or at least mention that to him, sah, if you weren't planning to already, wot."

Zolomon menwhile is told to lay down, but after a quick check up the healer decides, ok he can sit up slightly, they are taking him back to the mountain here soon after all, he will saddly miss the rescue which does upset him.

Varus harrumps, and sighs. "Aye, You were 'is superiah, Terrence. I'd rathah y' did give 'im a dressin' down on that account, wot. Th' numbah one rule o' th' Long Patrol is ta nevah accept cheek from subordinates. Always remembah that, Corporal."

The corporal dips his head. "Yes Sah, I'll remember that. It's partially my fault as well, I was hanging back a bit and didn't go into the trees after him, wot." Terrence finishes straightening his papers, quill and ink bottle put neatly to the side, and turns towards the tent flap. "Zolomon's still here, is he, sah?"

Zolomon is here, for now sitting up slightly on one of the cots in here.

"F'r now," replies the Major. "We're sendin' 'im back this aftahnoon, wot. 'E's too injahed t' take paht in th' bloomin' rescue, so he'll be returned t' th' Mountain..."

"Right then, shall we, sah?" Terrence opens the tent flap for the older hare. "I do want to know how far apart everything is in the toad village, wot. So I might ask our private-first-class just that. If he paid attention, of course..."

Zolomon looks over at the tent flap opens and is able to do a much better saulte than yesterday, he then waits to see waht they want.

Varus moves to stand over Zolomon's cot, and he harrumps. "Private. Y' look awful, wot. Corporal Terrence 'ere wants t' have some words wi' ya..."

"Sah." Giving a quick nod to the major, Terrence comes over as well. "Private First-Class Anderson," the corporal begins, "While its all well and good you made it out of there alive, wot, I wanted to ask you a few things. Firstly," he says with as severe a look as he can manage, "Before you were captured by the toads, wot did running on ahead into the trees accomplish for you, even when your Cpl. Rosinbloom had just told Pvt. Isla to not run off, wot?"

Zolomon blinks. "It's..Zolomon..sur.....and the idea was to get the stones first....there was one private from the other team but they..just sort of backed off after when I went for the stone....didn't see or..hear anything..sur...sort of blacked out, woke in a cage."

Varus harrumps. He's doing a lot of harrumping today. "Are y' sayin' y' disobeyed a direct ordah, Private?"

"Anderson's your last name, is it not, private?" Terrence shoots back before turning towards the Major, "Admittedly, Sah, it was more of advice than an order, but he did break from the others - Isla did too, but she did come back after Felicity said it." The corporal looks at Zolomon again. "If the goal was to attack the frogs instead of getting rock, Pvt. Anderson, do you suppose rushing on ahead is all that smart?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Even if you'd snatched the rock and not run into the toads, you should've stuck with your team and done it together, wot. Same goes for the other team's private as well, wot wot."

Zolomon frowns "I..didn't hear that..command." Maybe it was after they noticed him missing that the command was given. "Yes..sur..Anderson is my last name..."Just been a while since he heard it used, he frowns as Felicity is mentioned "The toads have Felicity and Isla too, along with Dom and couple others...sur...though Dom is separated from the other hares.

Varus nods. "Yes, I know. I read yahr report. Wot about Konner?"

Terrence bites his lip, recalling the name. "If it helps, I don't remember Konner listed among the dead, Sah, nor do I remember seeing him go down." He goes back to the private. "Anyway, Anderson, you should be very well aware you don't go do things like running off from a patrol unless ordered to, wot. If you had stayed with the rest of us perhaps you wouldn't have been captured right away, do you understand? And maybe we'd have had more of a chance against the bloody amphibians, wot, but admittedly that's just wistful thinking on my part. You need to always keep in mind those around you when on duty- they need you as much as you need them, private. Can do things more effectively that way, and safely, wot."

Zolomon one ear droops as he frowns "Yes sur..understood..sur..."He is worried, yes maybe more so than he thinks "I hope you get the others back sur and..that all goes..well. I wouldn't enjoy a report that...well anyone was not alive."

Varus nods. "Well, yer safe, an' so is Felicity an' Dominik... That's wot mattahs now..."

Nodding, Terrence adds, "Yes, we already have one back safely with you, private. So that's a start, wot. Speaking of which, that other thing I wanted to ask you." The corporal looks intently at the private as he asks: "Do you remember the layout of the toad village, wot? How far the cages are from the main huts, or where they store food, or if the pens are downhill or whatnot, wot? Any bit you can tell us can help save Dom, Felicity, and Isla, and the others, too, wot."

Zolomon frowns "Felicity isnt safe, not safe yet the toads have her and..and if I was better able sur I would rip the toads heads off...if they lay one slimy finger on Felicty...they need stabed, stabed till they are dead."

With a raised eyebrow, Terrence gives a wry laugh. "I doubt Cpl. Felicity would let herself die so easily, wot. So don't worry about her. As for wot you said about the toads, don't worry." The corporal adds with a slight smirk, "The plan's pretty much to do just that - and rescue Corporal Felicity and the others, which you seem so choked up about," Terrence's grin grows wider, "While we're at it, wot. Also, I'd suggest not forgetting her rank, if I were you, Pvt. Anderson."

Varus nods his approval. Terrence will make a fine officer someday. In the meantime, the healers hurry him and the Corporal out of the way for now, to prepare Zolomon for his later departure.

As he exits a tent, Terrence laughs lightly, giving the major a look. "I say, I think our good private has a little crush, wot wot, sah! Though," the corporal says, in a more wistful tone, "I suppose I should cut him some slack in that regard - had one myself on the very same corporal for seasons, back when we were both privates, wot."

Varus eyes the younger buck for a moment. "I think we all 'ave, wot. I 'ad one mahself. An' 'ealah, she was... An' she's still mah wife, though she retired from active service in th' Patrol quite a few seasons ago..."

The corporal looks thoughtful for a moment. "Suppose that's true, Sah. Though in my case never did get around to mentioning it to Rosinbloom, and at this rate I don't think it'd go over well, wot, 'specially considering the current predicament." Terrence shuffles his feet, looking out towards the marsh. "Either way, the sooner we get them all back safe and sound the better, wot."

Varus mhmms, nodding his head. "Ah, well... May'aps at a latah date, Lad. But that's all I'll say on th' mattah, wot. I don't get involved in mah subordinates' love lives..."

Giving another dry chuckle, Terrence responds, "Hah, well, thank you for that, Sah. I don't really plan on doing the same, either, wot. He looks down at the ground, laughing again, "Maybe I will mention something to her when its all over... wot." The corporal says this more to himself than the major.

Varus nods his head. He well remembers being that age, many, many seasons ago. "In th'meantime, wot, we got t' plan a rescue attempt. Since we're currently low on Fightahs, I want y' there, Terrence..."

Terrence nods, glancing up. "Yes, Sah, I certainly intend to be there, wot wot. As for that plan..." The hare casts his gaze over in the general direction of the toad village. "If what Zolomon said is correct, wot, I think I've got a few more solid ideas, Sah."

Varus rubs his chin thoughtfully. He was thinking a paw-picked extraction team of a dozen or so hares, but Terrence is bright, so he wants to hear the younger hare's ideas. "Let's 'ear them."

"Well, Sah," the corporal begins, kneeling down, "The idea's to have a major distraction as a fight against the toads while another team of healers and such, with a few fighters, get the captives." Terrence uses his paw to draw in a sand. "Let's say Dom's cage is here, a little ways out form the main villager...here." A large circle for the village, and a smaller point for Dom. "And the rest of our hares are nearby, over here." Another point is put next to Dom's position, on the far side form the main village. "Ovah here, Sah," He adds a spot on the free side of the center, double the length from Dom to the Village. "Is their main food storage, were they nearly tossed Zolomon. And conveniently, Sah," The hare strike a small curved line in between the food and the rest, "There's a hill here." Map drawn out, the corporal looks up at the Major, asking, "If there's anything I left out about the layout let me know, sah."

Varus shakes his head. "Not that I know of, Corporal. Carry on. The distraction is a good plan. I was thinkin' a dozen or so Fightahs, includin' those Veterans I brought th' othah night, wot..."

"Aye," Terrence nods, looking back down. "We might need a few more. The distraction is more of a full fledged battle, but I think I've got an idea to reduce losses significantly - have every hare should be armed with long spears and keep in a tight formation of at least two ranks, and keeping a group back as a reserve. There's be two distractions, really," The corporal draws I the sand again, marking the village with an 'x'. "Firstly, runners - and I mean runners, they have to be quick - go into the village and set a few huts aflame, wot. Then, after rousing the toads, they retreat over the hill where the main body of the patrollers have starts burning the food storage. The runners can't retreat fast enough so as they lose the toads, however - they need to lure them away. I suggest them using slings and javelins at range to harass the blighters, wot." He leans back, glancing up again. "The runner's have probably the most dangerous job because of that. Once the majority of toads are after the runners and over the hill, the main group can come out of hiding and engage the toads - we need to be quick about this, too, to keep as many toads stuck in fighting so as to leave the second group to go in on the far side to rescue the captives with hatchets, sah. I'd also suggest having several fighters along with them to mop up any nearby toads, wot. They'll move in once the toads are over the hill as well." Biting his lip, Terrence draws another 'x' at the captives pit. "The whole thing will require good timing, wot. That's probably the biggest problem. Oh! And as for the runners who burned the village, they should retreat to guard the flanks of the main fighting force, wot."

Varus nods his head in agreement. "Right, I'll take command o' th' distraction. Most likely I'll send Gregorian t' lead the group t' free th' prisonahs, wot. I want you in that group, Terrence..."

Dipping his head in thanks, Terrence stands. "Thank you, sah. I was hoping for that, if I'm being honest, wot." Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he waves down at his work. "The other problem with this, Sah, is that more than likely not all the fighting toads will leave the village, wot. If you manage to deal with them all by the food storage, maybe you can move into the actual place itself and try to continue the distraction, wot! I imagine if myself and half a score of hares have hatchets, we can make short work of the cages, eh, sah?"

Varus shakes his head. "I don't think it'll be entirely necessary, wot. Y' saw 'ow quickly the toads ran when I showed up with all th' oldest 'ares in th' Mountain. Deep down their cowahds, wot. It's entirely possible they'll turn tail and bloody well run when we send in that first group as a distraction. It is best tah be prepahred f'r anythin', though..."

"You're probably right, sah," Terrence says, shrugging, "But this is their home - I'd rather not leave the slimy beasts the time to try and use our hares as hostages, wot."

Varus mmms. "Yes. Well, it looks like you, me, 'n' Gregorian will be th' three 'ighest rankin' officahs, wot. This could be yahr chance t' distinguish yahrself."

The corporal nods slowly, understanding. "I see, sah. Can't make any promises, but I won't let you down, sah, wot! We should also have a spot to regroup once this is all over, with perhaps a small group of hares to guard it, just in case, wot. Leastways a place for my and the Sarge's group to run to once we get the captives, that is, wot."

Varus nods. "I believe this camp 'ere is where we'll regroup. It's located sufficiently fahr away from th' toad village, wot wot."

"Hmm..." Terrence grunts, saying, "Well, 'suppose that'll do then, Sah!" The corporal spares one more glance down at his drawing, and, in a grave tone, adds, "Sah, I'll take full responsibility if the plan fails, wot."

Varus harrumps. "Yes, well... If it fails, it'll likely be mah demotion, wot..."

Swallowing, Terrence says, "Well, hopefully that won't happen, sah - I might be dead at that point, though, along with the rescue team, wot. But that probably won't happen, wot wot."

Varus mhmms. "Yes indeed, Lad. We're th' bloomin' Long Patrol, though. We *won't* fail..."

"Bloody well right we are, sah!" Terrence offers a wary grin. "We won't. Leastways, not in a way we can think of now, wot!"

Varus nods his head. "Yes. I sometimes wondah that we're on shaky foundations since that mess in Mossflowah, but I think mah fears 'ave been mislaid..."

"Honestly, I've thought the same, Majah." Terrence rolls his shoulder, looking back at the tent were he left his papers and other equipment. "Well, Sah, if that's all well and good, now, I need to go collect my things before a well meaning private ends up tossing it all, wot!"

Varus nods, and casually salutes the other hare. "Right. Yahr dismissed, Corporal. Get yahr rest... We may be movin' out early tomorrah..."

Dipping his head, Terrence returns the salute with a muttered, "Thank you, Sah. I'll be sure to." Before he turns and goes to the tent.

Ol'random · Logs

The first part happened both IC'ly and OOC'ly on 10/2/19, just as the harvest was taking place. The second half happened today (10/23) - they're both pretty short so I put them together to add a little more substance.

Krisha, a badger,
and Spruce, a squirrel.

Some weeks ago, during the harvest and after Xander had been gone...

Krisha has been fairly busy the past few days, and right now she is asleep in her chair, a book in her lap as she sleeps , then she has done a lot today.

Every so often, the outline of a squirrel jumps between the morning light streaming from the high windows, the bushy shadow appearing across the floor. Spruce springs to the next foothold, a small ledge just beneath were one of the arches start, and he makes it, for a brief moment, looking quite proud of himself - before slipping slightly with a loud squeak, scrambling to get a better purchase. He does, and he slides down to sit dangerously close to edge, breathing heavily.

Krisha opens her eyes slowly and blinks, she looks up and frowns "What the seasons!" She frowns as she stands, "Wot are ya doing up there..."She normally be like get down but that may not be too easy.

Eyes wide at being caught, Spruce offers her a wide grin though his face goes red. "Oh, nothin'." He calls down, in as casual voice as he can manage. "Don't mind little ol' me!" As to if to prove this, the squirrel stands, leaping to a lower outcropping of stone. "See? I'm perfectly fine." Readjusting his footing, he perches on the edge, still looking down at the badger mother.

Krisha frowns, but she manages to stay calm. "Beasts don't...normally climb up there so, so high, I would dislike being anywhere high up."

"Well, of course not!" Spruce calls down with a laugh, "You're a badger! Never expected you'd like climbin' an' jumpin' an' all that! But I probably should come down. Just exploring. Plus," he adds, swiping his paw against the stone, "There's enough dust up here to take out a grown badger in a fit of sneezes an' coughs..."

Krisha manages a small laugh but she is still nervous of him being up there. "Yeah...guess it needs dusted sometime, likely before the feast."

"Good luck with that..." Spruce mutters, looking at the hundreds of ledges, and at the ground. "I guess I'll come down." With that, he jumps to a ledge next to the fireplace then the top of the hearth itself, before pausing to look for a good place to land. Spying a chair near Krisha, he leaps to it. The next moment the young squirrel is sprawled on his back, having hit the cushioned chair with far more force than he thought he would. It stopped it his fall and saved him from any injuries, sure, but it too was laying on its back nearby.

Krisha frowns, she is sure they have a way to dust, or so she thinks, its something to worry on later as she walks over to the squirrel to check on him, a frown as she sees if he is ok.

Spruce sits up, mostly fine besides a mildly bruised rear. He looks up at the badgermother, giving a nervous chuckle. "Eh, sorry 'bout that." He says, rubbing the back of his head. "Didn't expect that ol'thing to be so light!"

Krisha nods "Well light..soft makes for a good landing I suppose, just ...be carefull....trees are likely better to climb than...well other places"

"I guess..." As he stands, Spruce looks up towards the far-off ceiling. "But trees have a habit of looking the same about, you know. And this place is bigger than anything I've ever seen, with all those pawholds and ledges. I can't imagine many beasts have ever been up there!"

Krisha says, "Few...as no reason to really climb, I mean there is stroies of a mouse doing it once and he got in trouble with the sparrows""

Spruce shrugs, saying, "Suppose Sparrows can be real jerks sometimes. Though," he goes back to the tipped chair, crouching down, "Y'don' need a reason to climb, leastways not for a squirrel. Or at least not for me." He grunts as he hefts the armchair upwards, and it slowly falls back into an upright position, the feet hitting the stone with a loud click.

Krisha nods. "I..dont remember ever climbing, mybe a small hill thats all and thats not the same, few hills southeast"

Spruce laughs. "Again, never expected you to climb! I mean, well, no offense, but badger's don't seem like they'd do well in treetops. Though it makes quite the mental picture, doesn't it?" A cheeky grin spreads across his face at the thought.

Krisha says, "Wouldn't climb a tree unless I had a good reason to...my daughter climbed a tree once and almost fell out of it."

"Oh? Good for her!" Spruce says, leaning against the chair back. "Very few beasts 'sides squirrels could climb a tree without falling, I'd say."

Krisha smiles, a little anyways and nods. "Yeah she loved trees...."She smiles in thought and then sighs frowning."But.. its better to just have like squirrels climb."

"I guess..." Spruce says, noticing the frown and the past-tense. "Squirrels are what they are, eh? And so are badgers..." After a moment, he looks down at his feet, asking hesitantly, "Er, are there more badgers like you and that one who ran 'round here? Or is it just you?"

Krisha says, "Just me right now unless..Xander comes back but I dont know if he will or not, he..left"She sighs as she is worried still "I miss him and worry about him, but I am sure he is ok...so maybe two if count him, least in Mossflower""

"Huh..." Spruce tilts his head to the side, looking up at the badger. "If I'm being honest, I never've seen one before coming here! Heard plenty of stories, though..."

Krisha says, "The abbey has...almost alway had a badgermother, there was a couple times it didn't have one""

Spruce nods. "So I've heard. Most of the badger's I've been told of were from here, I think. The rest from some far off mountain with salamanders..."

Krisha says, "Yeah Oz had family here, well once he moved from the snowy northlands...think Xander was adopted into the family, but hew is..still family and..I hope he comes back soon'""

"Well, the impression I got from him, well..." Shaking his head, Spruce shrugs. "I dunno 'bout that... Seemed pretty peeved, if I do say so myself..."

Krisha says, "I am unsure what was wrong but just...the look he had, it was an accident and he dint mean for anyone to get hurt and now he is who knows where, he normally isnt like that."

Spruce exclaims, "Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact he's a bit terrifying!" A nervous laugh comes from him as he pushes off the chair to stand upright. "Admittedly I'm 'bout a fourth his size so that may of played into that..."

Krisha chuckles a little "Yeah....just image a vermin against him, he is a very good fighter and usually has a large blade but he left that in the gatehouse when he..ran away."

Eyes wide, Spruce replies, "I can imagine..." He shudders, shaking his head. "I don't ever want to be on his bad side..."

Krisha says, "No, probally unwise to be.I am hoping what ever is..well upsetting him befre the accident, he will talk about, its hard to say what upsets him now he probally thinks the abbot died and blaimes himself""

"Wouldn't blame him..." Spruce mutters to himself, before saying, "Maybe, maybe. I don't know him beyond what happened to the poor father abbot - Benar was really one of the only creatures I had talked here to up to that point, 'sides that mouse Caleb, of course..."

Krisha says, "I know a couple beasts are looking for Xander but thats all I know, not where he is, I have no clue where he is since he clearly is not going somewhere he knows."

Spruce nods, slowly, seemingly unconvinced. "Maybe... Eh, but what do I know?" He says with a shrug. "Anyway, Mother Krisha, I probably need to help out in the orchards soon, I'd told brother..." He pause, thinking. "Actually I can't remember his name! But he was someone!"

Krisha chuckles "In charge of the orchards is elder Elmef...though I think Brother Caleb is doing a lot, and Brother Rick."

Spruce blinks. "Uh, I don't think it was Elmef, or Rick - definitely not Caleb..." The squirrel shrugs again. "I dunno who it was, I guess! Anyways, I've got to be there before the noon bell." Heading for the doors, he calls over his shoulder, "It was nice t'talk to you, mother Krisha!" And then he's out.

A few weeks or so later...

Krisha is taking a break, she needs one as she has been on Abbot and Dibbun duty a lot lately.She sits under the tree for now, a little time off is good

While many leafs have fallen, some trees remain coated in their reds and yellows, and up in a branch of the plum tree the badger sits under rests a squirrel enjoying an armful of, well, plums. Spruce pops another one in his mouth, spitting out the core below a few moments latter, chewing.

Krisha blinks and looks up at the squirrel and frowns a little "Did you get into the plums or ..hmmms guessing got the very high up bit they missed."

Spruce, about to put a plum in his mouth, stops, haven been caught. "Er, yes." He calls as he looks down at Krisha sheepishly. "There's been a lot of fruit up higher that's been missed, y'know." Grinning cheekily, the squirrel adds, "And, well, can't let them go to waste, now, can I?"

Krisha chuckles "I do see some, most was gotten...hmmms may be enough left for a pie or two...maybe you can get the rest."

"Maybe." The squirrel replies through a mouthful of plum. Swallowing, Spruce starts to climb down with his free arm, though one fruit falls. "Whoops!" He mutters, even as he touches down on the ground.

Krisha smiles "Its ok..cant always have a good day..some are stressful and others are not thats why its important to rest"

Spruce tilts his head to give her what he thinks is a knowing look. "Aye, rest is important, it is, and I daresay I've never gotten enough, eh?"

Krisha shurgs "It has been busy doing tow main jobs, but have gotten some help..Sister Ginnny is with the dibbuns right now"

Looking very serious, Spruce nods gravely. "That poor Sister." He plops himself down against the tree next to Krisha, plums still held in his arms. Taking one and eating, he glances over at the badger mother. "Say, this is purely theoretical, but... How often are dibbun successful in snatching pies and other stuff from the kitchens? Purely theoretical of course." The squirrel gives a wry grin.

Krisha says, "Not very and do not try it, you can get in real trouble if Friar Lacota caught you, he may already be grumpy seeing as someone destoryed or alsmost did always, one of the trays.""

"Oh, I'm not gonna try it!" Spruce says with a wink, "I'm not that brave, not at all." He takes a bite out of the last plum he has. "Friar Lacota's that ol'squirrel with the pots, right? I'm not willing to cross him myself, at least. I'm not that curious to find out what he'd do if I were to, well, y'know..."

Krisha says, "Well he is in charge of the kitchens and he is old I suppose but not too old."

A smirk on his face, Spruce spits out the last plum-pit. "Aye, well, nearly every beast looks old to me, 'cept for the babes and those my age."

Krisha nods as she yawns a little, she seems tried now then last couple weeks has been fairly busy.

Resting his head on his arms against the trunk, Spruce says, "Well, I hope the weather stays at least a little bit warm like this for a while yet."

The squirrel is soon snoring, sleeping soundly like the child he still is against the tree trunk.

Ol'random · Logs

All hares once again, except the spoof toads by myself.
Private Dominik,
Corporal Terrence,
and Private First-Class Zolomon.

Continued from here.

The toad village is rather lethargic today. With the chill of Autumn promising the coming winter, many toads have taken to hunkering down in their huts and crude tunnels now that a substantial amount of food has been gathered for the months of cold and ice. However, some are still out and about for one reason - the captured hare in the cage who is known to them simply as 'Erg.' They surround the private's cage, having put an unfortunate toad warrior inside, chanting the name wildly. Even so, some toads are prepare for the hare's next victim, this time from his own kind. Those captured by the toads in the disastrous survival training are being kept in a caged pit of their own, several yards away, with a simple leaf roof that keeps out the rain. Worty amphibians stand by with their spears, looking through the wooden bars at the poor hares for any beast that looks able enough to last against Dominik - not that the current challenger is dead just yet, but they've seen 'Erg' in action enough to know what's coming. They're hoping picking a fellow long ears will be more exciting, this time, even if they do enjoy watching their kin get pummeled. Even toads and frogs enjoy variety from time to time.

Zolomon had been annoyed since he woke up, if only he had his longbow these toads would be so dead but of course those are elsewhrere and its hard to say where. The interesting worms and stuff was mostly ignored by the hare and the other hares, though one Private did get brave and tried a worm and shrugs. Zolomon looked over at the toads and glared "Wot ya looking at..just take ya ungle self and go away"

Dominik is indeed right in the middle of his latest conquest, the large hare...already intimidating as it was...made even moreso now by the scarred-over wounds upon his face and the yellowish toad-blood-facepaint that now appears to be permanently part of his 'look', so to speak. The toad warrior, once a formidable and fearless creature, now cowers there in the cage before Dom, bloody and beaten nearly half to death, the hare's paws already damp with his blood, the liquid splattered about on the ground around him as well. Cold, emotionless eyes peer down at the toad, as Dom reaches down and wraps those large paws around his throat. He begins to squeeze the remaining life out of him, no remorse or pity at all in the hares features; he strangles him, jerking him back and forth in the process until he feels the life beginning to ebb away.

"GLURG!" One of the toads barks Zolomon, brining its spearbutt down at the hare's head - before it connects, however, another toad stops it, croaking out softly to its enraged fellow. "Glurg-Har, Erg-glo Har." A wicked grin spreads across both amphibians, and they soon turn back to the private first class. "HAR!" With that, the two and several others stick their spear points in the cage, warding off the other hares to leave Zolomon alone. A rope of green vines is tossed down at him, and the toads are gesturing for the hare to climb up as the cheers of those watching Dominik grow louder and louder. "ERG, ERG, ERG!" The toad being strangled is struggling and trying to fight back, beating at the big hare with webbed fist but to no avail. It's slowing, its hits become weaker and weaker as it tries to gurgle out in defiance.

Zolomon looks at the rope vine and the toads.He folds his arms over his chest as if curious, are the toads insane to have him released or is it a trick. "Wot ya slime faces want with me?"

Dominik is repeatedly struck by the struggling toad's fists but to no avail; the toad might as well be pounding against a stone wall, it likely would have a similar effect on both the wall and the toad's fists. Paws sink deeper into the flesh of the toad's throat, claws sinking in, and with one final ripping motion of those large paws, the hare tries to completely tear out the entire area where his paws were grippping. Letting his latest victim sink down to the ground, not caring whether or not he actually killed him with the blow, Dom turns towards those gathered around the cage. He lifts both paws into the air and howls, his voice echoing and booming throughout the marshes. "ERRRRRRRG!!!!"

Seeing Zolomon not immediately understanding, the toads snarl at him, croaking angrily to each other. They pull back the rope, quickly tying a lasso even as another is brought over. They toss the two hoops at the hare, trying to catch him in it. For good measure, the rest of the toads prod at him to try to keep him in place to make it easier to rope him. "Glo-Erg!" One yells down, pointing back to the fighting pit were howl came from with the screams, chants, and croaks of the spectators loud in every beast's ear. "ERG, ERG, ERG!!!!" The now dying toad, its throat ripped out, gurgles again for a moment before falling limp in Dominik's paws, dead. The toads trying to catch Zolomon smile even more evilly at him as they hear this, licking their lips. "Erg Glo-Har, esh." They croak out at him, as if to explain.

Zolomon makes sure no other hare is roped up and does go, but not without a bit of a fight and once up he shows the nearest toad his fist making sure the toad gets a close look at it! "Ya slimey toads...just love your form of chatting wot."

Dominik leans down and sinks his teeth into the side of the toad's face, taking out a nice sized chunk and spitting it out back at the gathered crowd in what now seems to be a bit of a grisly trademark for the intimidating hare. The toadblood drips from his face, and he reaches up a paw to smear it back over the marks over both his eyes again, giving himself a fresh coat of 'paint' for whoever it is the frogs have chosen next for him to absolutely demolish. Letting the toad drop to the ground, Dom stalks back over to his spot in the corner, where he slowly lowers himself down in a crouch, simply waiting there in the shadows, eyes showing no emotions. If this is how it was to be for him from now on, well...the large hare is thinking he could begin to get used to it.

Zolomon earns several prods from the spears and harsh tugs from the rope for that display, and they soon try to drag him off to the other cage. Feathers, worms, and other tributes rain down upon Dominik as he moves to his corner, the chant of 'ERG!' continuing. The toad 'lucky' enough to catch the hare's trademark in the face is leaping up and down and croaking to its neighbors almost incoherently as it points to itself and gurgles joyfully. Soon, however, the crowd parts as the armed toads bring the next combatant, and a hush falls. "Erg-glag-Har?" Is whispered excitedly by the bystanders, with the chant of "Erg glo-Har, ERG GLO-HAR!" starting up soon afterwards.

Zolomon struggled a little as he was dragged forwards, he kicks at one toad making them stumble to the cage as he laughs.He then sees where they brought him, just not yet WHO is in the large cage "Wot's this?"

Dominik would more than likely be a little difficult to recognize upon first glance at this point, anyhow. For one, he is in the shadows, only a vague glimpse of his hulking, shadowy form visible to anyone entering the cage. And secondly, with all the bruises upon his face and that grotesque mask of toadblood, along with the hare's ears folded down against the back of his head, he really doesn't resemble his old self hardly at all. He is quite possibly beginning to form himself into what the toads already assumed him to be...a giant monster. Crouching there, waiting patiently, Dom's eyes fix upon the cage door, and he wonders what poor, pathetic fool they found for him to dispatch this time. Most of the time, it was toad warriors who displeased their fellow bretheren, other times it was simply someone who was to be executed in the most brutal way possible. Still, the large hare simply remains there, waiting, and watching, eyes narrowing as they staaaare.

"Errrrg!" A big fat toad croaks out, calling Dom as it stands atop of a small platform overlooking the cage, "Har-glag-HAR!" It then shrieks to masses, waving its webbed hands into the air, "Glug-Erg, Erg GLO-HAAAAR!" The announcer is clearly hamming it up, and the crowd eats it up, going even wilder than before, chanting, "ERG, ERG ERG!!!" The toads around Zolomon, however, keep themselves relatively restrained, offering only wide smirks at the hare as they simply untangle him from the two lassos, unlock the door, and go to shove him in with their spearbutts. "Har Flig Erg-Glo-her, heh." One chuckles to him, its big mouth curved upwards.

Dominik had begun to get used to the sight of that particular toad shouting and riling up the masses; he knew that whenever he would appear, that was when he would be given a new 'opponent' to 'fight'. The time he'd been here, he'd already begun to form some type of strange routine of sorts, the announcer-toad signaling the part of his day he would spend carrying out the toads' form of punishment. As he watches the door being unlocked, his eyes fall upon the form being shoved into the cage. He hesitates at first, the large hare immediately noticing that it is not the usual blubbery, fat toad form that he would usually get. It almost looks as if it some type of...hare? Still, Dom remains where he is crouching in the shadows, only a soft growl emanating from the spot as he continues to watch Zolomon to see what the new 'victim' would do and how he'd react to the situation he was suddenly put in. He is also not immediately recognized as Zolomon, Dom's brain currently in the 'attack' phase as opposed to the 'stop and think' phase.

Zolomon tenses up a little as the door to the cage is lamed shut and of course no weapon as he looks to see what or who is on the other side in that corner.."Ummm...soo....hallo?"Yeah sure small talk, but he is ready to fight if need be, he looks at the floor and makes a face "Ummm...they should bally well clean in here...huh"

With baited breath, the toads have fallen silent, watching the two hares and waiting to see what will happen. After a moment, one of the armed ones tries to push Zolomon further in the cage and towards the beast growling in in the corner with its spear. "GLAG!" The big toad on the platform shouts down, waving madly, and many others start croaking the word out too. "Glag! GLAG!"

Dominik's folded-back ears twitch as he hears the word being shouted by both the platform-toad and the crowd, and for whatever reason it finally makes him sloooowly rise up. Stepping forward out of the shadows, Dominik's form is gradually revealed to Zolomon, the towering hare a fearsome beast, indeed...the toads' reverence of him can be easily understood by simply looking at him, and the various pieces of other toads scattered about the floor here and there. Eyes fall upon Zolomon, and Dom simply stares down at him with an intimidating glare, the hare's chest rising and falling steadily, paws clenching and unclenching at his sides. Gaze lifts to look up at the toad on the platform, the hare lifting a paw and pointing at Zolomon. A mocking smirk appears upon his muzzle, as he shouts up to him. "Glag? GLAG?" his voice booms out. "Blerg-glag, GLUG. Glug-blag. GLERG." He takes a step back away from Zol, the hare's words seeming to translate to 'you can't be serious right now...'

Zolomon good ear drops as..."Dom?" Ok it looks like Dom anyways, he frowns as he stays where he is surprised his fellow hare can speak this toad langage even.

"Glerg?" The crowd murmur to each over, surprised that Erg can speak, if a bit poorly. "GLAG-HAR!" They chant in answer, and more toads start prodding at Zolomon, tryin to agitate them. Boos and hisses accompany the chanting, with some tossing mud and worse at the new fighter, while others are trying to rile up and encourage Dom. "Glarg Har! Erg GLO-har! GLUG GLUG! ERG, ERG, ERG!"

Dominik's ears perk just slightly upon hearing Zolomon speaking his old name, and it gives him a little more of a pause as he continues to glower down at the smaller hare. He staaaaares, his addled brain doing its best to try and place where exactly he recognized him from. He did look somewhat like him, after all, so obviously he must know him somehow! As mud and other things are flung at Zolomon, Dom steps out of the way, letting the other hare take a bit of the thrown debris. That's what he gets for getting them into this whole thing in the first place! He gives Zol one of those chilling grins, before he takes a step or two in his direction. Turning his gaze to the crowd, he lifts a paw into the air, his voice booming out, "ERG!" Yeah, cheap pop. So what? After everything he's dealt with, let the hare have a bit of fun!

Zolomon has mud and goo hit him and shakes it off as some gets in his eyes , he looks at Dom and frowns as he sees the lage hare and that grin, what is that grin supposed to mean!

The toads respond with great cries of, "ERRRG!" They jeer cruel at Zolomon, still flinging mud and dirt and more at the hare. "GLARG, GLARG!" The big toad atop starts, with more join in. "ERG, GLARG! ERG, GLARG!" The toads push and shove into each other to get a better view, with many being pushed right up against the wooden bars, all the while still chanting, "ERG GLO-HAR!"

Still, there is something about Zolomon that causes Dom to hesitate in attacking him. Taking another step towards him until the massive hare towers over Zolomon, he reaches down that spadelike paw, grabbing the other hare by his collar and tugging him up into the air, off his feet even so he can go eye-to-eye with him. Staring at Zolo, Dom glowers at him, before he leans in and speaks under his breath, a murmur so only Zol can hear him. "...if vant to live, play along.' He snorts, before finally shoving Zol away, letting him fall roughly to the ground. Once he does, he lifts a footpaw and gives Zol a light shove forward, towards the bars.

Zolomon frowns, he hears what is said andthen feels himself drop and stumbles backwards.Make it look real so play alng" How does he do that! He looks around and picks up a clup of mud and tossses it at Domink abd stands, he thinks and makes fists looking ready to fight now.

"HAR! GLUG-GLUG!" The crowd cheers as Zolomon fights back, laughing madly. "ERG, ERG!" They start chanting once again, jumping up and down as the two hares start to go at it. "ERG GLO-HAR, ERG GLO-HAR!"

Dominik takes a step forward as if ready to pursue Zolomon. And then the other Patroller picks up that clump of mud at flings it at him. It thwacks right into his face with a wet thwap, covering his eyes, and the large hare reaches up a paw to wipe it away. The look Zolomon gets aftwards is pure fire and fury, and one honestly cannot tell if Dom is simply playing up the whole acting aspect, or is actually reaaally peeved off. Perhaps a combination of the two. Zol will be the lucky one who has to find out. With an enraged roar that rumbles throughout the entire marshland, Dom stomps towards Zolomon, reaching down a paw as he attempts to shove him right into the bars of the cage! He is trying soooo hard not to just pound him right in the face with a fist, his usual tactic...but then again, the hare isn't his usual opponent, either. Dom's temper was never a good thing to begin with, and his current situation only seen to enhance this fact.

Zolomon is not use to up close fighting , but sidesteps as the large hare comes forwards.He almost slips on the goo inside the cage and then bumps into the bars.He is a little dazed but not as much as he could be as he frowns "Dom.......please..."He speaks, normally not one to pleed, but he is...part way to make it look good and maybe the hare did hit him a little too hard.

More jeers towards Zolomon erupt from the toads as they hear what they assume is pleading. The chanting is continuing, even with Dom's unorthodox mud flinging, with the toads all but entranced by this new way of fighting for their champion, watching and waiting intently for the killing blow. "ERG! ERG!"

Dominik hurries forward in an almost pouncelike manner as he watches Zolomon slip and fall, and then aim aims a solid (but not as solid as it could be...hey no one said Zol wouldn't be leaving with at least a few bruises) kick that tries to thud right into the other hare's midsection. He is taking a slow and methodical attack approach from this moment on, one which would give Zolomon the opportunity to play up the acting aspect of things. Reaching down, he attempts to tug Zol back up by his collar again, before trying to fling him to the other side of the cage.

Zolomon urg and yelps out in pain and he lets himself fall as if the kick was like super hard, he groans in =pain= and then flies across the cage and hits the other side, a loud yelp, real REAL Pain as he shivers a little and slides down, ok thiss is supposed to look real not be real! Some of teh whimpering is real and some playing pain.A couple deep breaths ok luckly no broken ribs but he holds his chest as if there is some.He might have a cracjked arm bone but for now he can still move,He bites his lip to make blood and spits it out, he sort of purposely shivers and falls onto his face and then gets to his knees, but not before finding a sharp stone and making some blood on his cheek..he already has bruises so those are real.

"GLO-GLO-GLO!" The onlookers start shrieking and croaking, pointing to the hare on his knees as they leap up and down. "ERG-GLO-HAR!" However, some of the more astute amphibians notice something is...off. Especially with how Zolomon cuts himself. Those few aren't chanting with the rest, instead chittering amongst themselves. It could be that Erg is just playing with his victim, but maybe... "ERG GLUSH-GLO-HAR!" They start chanting, smacking webbed fists into their hands.

Dominik is noticing that some of the toads seem to be getting restless and perhaps just a tad suspicious at the amount of time Dom is taking with the smaller hare. Why didn't any of his other opponents take this long? It was definitely something that might rise suspiciously, and especially with Zol cutting himself right in front of everyone. Dom grumbles inwardly to himself at this, figuring that he'll have to take another route here. He approaches the downed Zolomon again, once again aiming another kick at him, before he leans down and puts his paws on either side of the hare's head. Trying to tug him upright again, Dom gives him a steely look as if you say 'you had better play this off, this is your only chance'. Eyes narrowing, Dom grips Zol's head between his hefty paws. Lifting his head, he gives a savage growl to the crowd. "ERG!" He then moves his paws in a jerk to the side, making it seem as if he'd snapped Zol's neck. All Zol would have to do is move himself in the right direction for it to appear to be to be legit. It was something Dom had done dozens of times for show back at home during fights, and so he was well practiced in it, so that no real harm would come to Zol because of it. Shoving the other hare to the ground roughly afterwards, Dom lifts his paws into the air and roars. "ERG!" He points a paw down at Zolomon. "GLARG-UG!" Hopefully, Zol can manage to lie still enough to pull off the ruse.

Zolomon hmmms to himself, maybe he can look like he has gone insane and have his own like war paint sort of as he goes to attck Dominik as, why would he just stand there for?He then seems to panic, and maybe he is really as he looks to try and get free and can't.Zolomon seems to catch on and goes with the flow, he achally does move his head just right and then just lets himself go totally limp, he even holds his breath and keeps very very still.Its hard to hold still but he manages to do it.

"ERG! ERG! ERG!" The toads roar out, before falling silent as the hare goes limp. Those toads who had been doubting stop, holding spears now, and they watch with expectant eyes, waiting. "Glo-Har!" One croaks out, point to its mouth. More join in, "Glo-Har, Glo-Har!" And more. "GLO-HAR, GLO-HAR!" Soon all the onlookers are croaking the words out in a frenzy, all waiting for Dom's gory signature.

Dominik had seemingly forgotten about that one thing that had seeming become his calling card, so to speak. Or did he? As he stands there towering above Zolomon's limp body, the large hare reaches down and hefts the other hare up. Leaning his head down, Dom's eyes do a quick scan of Zolomon, before he decides to follow through with the idea. He'd already been beaten up and knocked about enough already, so one more scar likely wouldn't hurt him at all. Placing his arm in a position that hides Zol's head, Dom presses his teeth into the inside of his own arm. It is near a spot where Zol was already bleeding, and so it would look as if that is the spot where Dom tears the flesh away. Jerking his head quickly to get it over with, he bites back the initial surge of pain, making sure to get enough of his own blood on Zol to make it look like it was his own fur and flesh that had gotten torn away. He spits this back out into the crowd, hopefully sating the masses. Moving his arm to hide his self-injury (he was already covered in blood as it was anyway), Dom lifts the other arm and roars again, letting Zol fall to the ground again. One can't say that Dom never used his brain, as addled as it currently is.

Zolomon feels himself fall and lets himself sort of bounce across the floor and stays very still, he is good at the play dead thing.He barely took a breath when he was in teh air and hdden by Dominink, he barley avoids yelping in pain, he goes with the flow and is, by all counts of those looking, seemly very dead now.

That does the trick - the bloody spittle doesn't hit any single toad, however, but they don't seem to mind much. "ERG! ERG! ERG!" They all croak out, with more feathers and berries and insects being showered down upon the winner. Two burly toads to stand on a wooden plank above the cage, tossing down more plant lassos so as to retrieve the 'dead' hare, ginning and croaking to Dom as they do so. "Bleg, Erg Glo-Har, Haheh! CROAK"

Dominik is used to the showering of disgusting objects at this point, and so when it happens once again after his 'victory', he smirks a little, eyeing Zolomon as he is slowly taken out of the cage. It is completely up to him now to play it off as if he is dead until he is put in a spot where he is no longer noticed. Dom did his part...even though it was more due to sympathy for a fellow hare rather than any type of solid escape planning, his brain wasn't yet ready for that type of thing yet. Watching for a few more moments, the large hare mrrrfs softly, before he trudges back to his usual place over in the corner of the cage. He crouches there, and simply waits. Does he ever sleep? That is a very good question.

Zolomon stays very still, this is getting annoyong but he does it still..limp, so limp, very limp as he is taken out of the cage.He can be serious and knows when to not..well move...takes all his doing to not move cause like he is supposed to be dead.

The toads drag Zolomon away as the cheers continue, and soon they're obscured from sight within the cage. "Glurg Glo-har, eh?" The two toads taking Zolomon mutter to each other. "Blerg, glo-har, eck!" The chanting around the the cage fades out, and soon the small toad from before bears even more worms - but this time edible berries are on the platter as well. It sets the plate down, sliding it into the cage with a bow as the announcer croaks out, "Blerg Gluck! ERG GLO-HAR! HAHAH!" The toads cheer again as they move away, the show ended once again. For Zolomon, however, it's just the beginning. One of the toads drop him, letting its fellow hold him by the arm alone, and the toad starts shifting a large stone with grunts and croaks. The smell emanating from inside is horrendous, and a few flies dart out of the dank, dark hole. Still chit-chatting, the two toads go to throw the hare into the food storage. Waste not, want not, after all.

Zolomon makes a face likely these two are not paying attention to him, they think he is dead after all, ok he can't go into that hole, he would likely never get out and end up for real dead, he is still in pain and thinks quickly..He grunts as painful to really move, but he has to THINK FAST! They seem to have laid down that trident..that was dumb.He grabs it and quickly goes to stab them, and a powerful kick to the chest! If he is successful he will do his best to get that boulder recovering the hole..even if it takes a couple minutues,..

The trident hits its mark, with the owner giving loud shriek as the kick lands, tossing the toad into the darkness to bleed out. The remaining one, while caught off guard, isn't so easy to deal with - it still holds a spear, which it now brings up to jab at Zolomon, croaking panicky as it does so, "GLURG! HAR-WAG!" If the hare doesn't start booking it fast, the entire population of toads will soon be upon him. Even now a confused croaking can be heard from the direction of the fighting pit. Those still gathered around Dom look at each other as the faint cries of the toad run out in the distance. "Erg Har-glo?" A few ask, questionably, looking from their fellows to the hare in the pit.

Zolomon glares at the toad, he goes to stab that toad as well, a strong kick to shut it up and then he bolts, he is the fastest runner in the long patrol! Ok he and Felicity did have a race and tied but still he is fast and quick, he gets lukcy to catch mainly dry land, he almost sinks once and loses a boot, he also loses a 2nd boot..hmmms maybe they will think he died after all! He hopes so anyways as he is barefoot....in the swamp...ya!!!

Eventually, one toad decides to investigate the frantic croaking. Even as it picks up a spear and slowly meanders its way to the storage, the croaks suddenly stop. In turn, the lone toad calls for some help, just to be safe, before cresting a small hill and spotting the now dead toad and the killer running away. "GLURG! HAR! GLURG HAR!" The toad raises its spear waving it madly as it screams out for its fellows. As Zolomon escapes, many, many toads are prepping to hunt him, though some remain to stare sadly at Dom, shaking their heads.

Away on the edge of the swamplands a patrol corporal just so happens to be keeping watch. Terrence volunteered to keep guard, and the hare's ears are perked up, a confused expression on his face as the frantic and angry croaks come across the marsh. "What in the bloody... they seem happy before, wot." He mutters to himself.

Zolomon is the reason the yare not happy, he lost his boots and he is tried from running. But he still run.One toad did follow him and he frowns, he uses the trdent as a flying spear and ...yep that toad is dead as he pants and groans.He tenses up..camp, a camp not more toads...wait its hares as he shivers andtakes a few more steps and then collapes just outside the hare's camp.

Even more toads than the one Zolomon sees are following him. The croaks are wild and growing louder every second, especially as several jump over the skewered toad. The running hare can't see it just yet, but atop a small hill the toads poor over, spears and tridents in webbed hands, croaking out their wars cries. Who can see them however, even before they rush down the hill, is Terrence and the other patrollers. The corporal, taking a few moments to make sure the gasping form just yards away indeed is a hare, calls out, "HARE IN TROUBLE! TOADS ABOUND, WOT WOT!" even as he runs out to help Zolomon up. "EULALIA!" Several hares yell out, moving to protect the escapee. Most of the toads, for their part, halt, quickly retreating from the tough long-ears - but some continue to rush forward recklessly, and are soon dead in the muck with stones, arrows, and javelins in them.

Zolomon opens his eyes, his vision fuzzy as he groans, hare shapes turn him onto hisback as he fell onto his face, his eyes then close and he slips into unconiousness

"Healer!" Terrence bellows out, looking around at the hare's gathered. The corporal doesn't quite recognize the private first class due in part to all the mud, blood, and other factors. "Come on, hare, what's your name?" He asks, not fully expecting an answer, especially now that he is shooed away by two healers. The toads are gone once again, though the line of hares is still ready for a fight, while the corporal watches the healers work, taking Zolomon away to be treated safely.

Ol'random · Logs

All hares, 'cept the toads spoofed by myself.
Private Cera,
Private Dominik,
Sergeant Gregory,
Corporal Terrence,
and Major Varus.

Following the disastrous survival training...

The majority of the hares had been taken back to the mountain but with some still missing and with the toads the planning for a rescue mission was underway. Greg had barely stopped in the mountain long enough to report before he'd been back out. They'd set up at the dunes by the edge of the swamp and he was currently standing on top of one of the dunes, watching the marshlands with a frown and waiting for some scouts to report back.

Cera has been around to help with any healing needs, she had gotten away, barely gotten away, but got away from the toads "Never wanna bally well see toads again." Another Private, a Mel agrees, he had only escapes and was just found maybe ealier this morning, cause he trips and just played dead as too many toads at the time was between him and the others, he had wandered into camp looking like a mud monster till they quickly ID-ED him as a hare.

Gregorian has a list of the missing, he was happy to cross one off and had the scouts do an extra sweep to check for any more hiding out as they search for where the toads are keeping those that were captured. His ear turns to the conversation and his frown deepens though he doesn't take his eyes off the swamp "Yah goin' tah have tah if we're goin' tah get everyone back"

Cera turns and gives a nod "Understood sur...but how, like attck in the daytime?" Toads are less active in daylight right? Toads is one thing she didnt read up on, just heard of them and howw they like to keep slaves and sometimes get bored of them and kills them."They couldnt of gotten too far, could they?"

Gregorian finally looks at her but it's to shoot a frown her way. He's been extra serious since the attack. A small huff and he looks back to the swamp "Toads, frogs and the like slowest when it's cold. Day is the worst time. Stealth, sneak in, sneak out is the best option tah avoid anothah battle and furthah casualties...but I'm sure the officahs will have their ideas and ordahs tah follow"

Cera ears go flat, she nods "I'm..sorry I should read more on things tlike toads and such. Been more concerned with training with my dirk and the exercise drills than reading up on some things like...swamps, reading is sort of boring"Yes she can read she just dislikes it, she rather read something exciting than just facts."Wot will I be needed ta do sur?

Gregorian hackles raise and he looks angry when he turns back to her. He's in a mood and apparently easily angered today "Readin' is borin'. Yah excuse for ignorance is that readin' is /borin'/. This purposeful display of ineptitude is wot yah decide tah display tah yah superior officah with the excuse that it's borin'? Yah in the long patrol. Do yah think all there is tah it is swingin' around yah blade and doin' a few sit ups?"

Cera takes a deep breath, but she manages to, just barely hold back an urge to yell at the sargeant.She does glare slightly as she listens to him, "I am sure others think it boring too...and training ta fight is important..sur"She shakes her head "I surrived fairly well on me own without...reaading too much, why read anyways?"

Gregorian glares back firmly "I don't care wot they, yah or anyone else thinks. If yah told tah read every book in the mountain yah do it. Yah keep on yah back talkin' and I'll have yah doin' just that"

Cera rolls her eyes and muttters something about how higher ups are just bossy and rude.She has had a bad couple days so her short temper is starting to show, she did push a fellow private into the mud yesterday while hunting those stones after all. Private Mel has decided to get far, far away to..oh look they may need help cooking what ever that green stuff is today, he is sure its...sort of eatable.

Gregorian remembers her actions yesterday and had considered the matter closed but he's rethinking that. He steps over, getting closer as he caught a little bit of that muttering "Do yah want tah repeat that loud enough for everyone tah hear?" he asks, his voice raising.

Cera looks up at him as she had started to walk off and sit elsewhere , she folds her arms over her chest seemingly refushing to repeat her words, "Can I..go now..sur?"

"I did not tell yah that yah were dismissed" Greg barks out when she started to walk away. He narrows his eyes at her as she folds her arms "How yah have reached private with yah attitude is beyond me but if yah keep this up I'll see tah recommendin' yah be bumped down tah recruit since yah clearly have no concept of followin' ordahs or respect for the chain of command"

Cera tenses up a little, "Why are you so bossy and rude.."She then cups a paw over her mouth, it slipped out too late for her to do anything as the ears flatten and she KNOWS she is in trouble as she takes a deep breath "I'm..I'm sorry sur..I didt mean to sur" She got through training yes, it was likely barely as she finished a season after others in her class did, she had good healer skills so maybe that helped, and she has good balnce and quick footpaws to avoid danger, maybe a little work on the dirk but she is fair with that skill and still learning, sling very good..arrows are a no as she might hit a knee or a foot but not much vital on a vermin she would just slow them down, and climbing she is excellent at...tempe?...ummm thats a no, she is not always good at controling it.

Gregorian looks even more annoyed but it's her quick backpedaling when she realises she said the wrong thing that keeps him from blowing up "Yah dismissed. Go back tah the mountain, I don't want yah out here"

Cera ears stay flat, well at least the y are on the dunes just on the outside of the swamps so its not a bad walk back, she nods and stands up straighter, a salute as she says "Yes sur..right away sur" And then she turns to make her way back slowly, a sigh...this will be such a fun report to make when she is asked why are you back here for.

Gregorian hasn't moved much all day. He's tense and in a bad mood. They've set up a base of operations among the dunes just outside the swampland with just seasoned patrollers, all the recruits were safely back at home. He stands where he has done for the last few hours. On top of one of the dunes, watching the swamps and waiting for news from the scouts.

A corporal is using his spear to aid him in standing, though he's doing better than usual. Terrence's face is still bruised, but he is alert and ready, looking out towards the swamp lands. He's a bit wary of the sergeant and his bad mood, but he's in a bit of one himself - the loss of many of the recruits has sunken in, and the hare is worried that the worst might befall them.

"Starin' out at th' dunes won't make th' scouts return any fastah, wot." Varus joins the other two hares standing on the dune. "They'll be back when they get back. As f'r you, Corporal, y' shouldn't be standin' so long in yahr condition..."

Gregorian is thinking and dwelling on it. It was his idea so naturally he considers it his fault and the report he submitted before immediately returning to the area claimed responsibility even if they didn't know the full extent of what happened to set everything off yet. He doesn't respond to Terrence's presence at first but Varus' voice makes him turn and his normally relaxed salute is sharp today "Sah!" there's a pause as he frowns "There doesn't appear tah be anythin' else tah do but stand guard and wait sah"

With a meek laugh following a salute, Terrence nods. "I know that, sah, but I'm doing fine, well, as fine as I can be!" The hare turns to the major, looking at him instead of the swamp. "And I feel like if I were to sit I'd just get sand in places I'd rather not, wot." Dipping his head to Gregory, he adds, "And like Sarge says, we don't have much else to do, wot, sah."

Varus shields his eyes with a paw as he peers out. "'Ow long 'ave th' scouts been gone, Greg?" He shakes his head. "I suppose yahr right, though. Jus' th' thought o' our 'ares bein' in th' clutches o' those foul slimy beasts..."

Gregorian sighs heavily at the question and starts looking back to the swamp again "A couple of hours. They had a runnah check in about lunch time though. They know where the toad's village is but not where they're keepin' everyone..." he says before muttering "Assumin' they're even still alive" as his shoulders sink with a quieter sigh.

Watching his superiors interact, Terrence gives a sideways glance to the sergeant. "Sah, I'd have some faith in some of them, at least. I doubt Private Dominik or Corporal Felicity would get themselves killed. Though I don't know about the others, wot..." He leans on his spear, gazing back out at the marshlands. "If I may be so bold to ask, Sahs, why did the blasted toads capture beasts instead of just slaying us?"

Varus harrumps. "Dominik bettah not be dead, or I'll kill 'im mahself. 'E's mah best brawlah, wot." He turns to regard Terrence. "An astute question, Corporal. Toads are savage. They don't always take prisonahs, but wh'n they do... Well..."

Gregorian takes a deep breath and tries not to continue with the thought of everyone being dead or he at least tries not to keep voicing those thoughts "I doubt anyone has evah got close enough tah a frog tah figure out why they do anythin'. Might be like vermin and they want slaves or somethin'"

"I see..." Terrence looks down at his feet, shifting them restlessly. "That wouldn't be surprising, sah, the lot being like vermin. I daresay the toads and whatnot wanting slaves might be better for those captured than the alternatives, wot."

Varus harrumps again. "Back when I was yahr age, Terrence, I was a Corporal, too. An' I was a 'othead." He grimaces. "I was 'ead of a small scoutin' expedition. We stumbled across a group o' toads... We coulda been bloody well massacred, wot! But... I managed ta get my troops out wi' only one casualty... But I have nevah, t' this day, forgotten th' toads' brutality, wot..."

Gregorian's frown returns and deepens "The toads weren't suppose tah be there. It wasn't even near their village. No one saw them get out tah the woods...it should have been safe" he complains. He's still not sure what went wrong, he'd thought he had everything under control.

"Well, sah, doesn't change the fact that they were there." Terrence shrugs, looking back at the two officers. "There's no plan that survives the first contact, wot. Just so happens we've had bad luck the past few days, eh?"

Varus glances over at the Sergeant. "Greg... Nobeast blames y' f'r this. I certainly don't... Neithah does Lord Ciocan. Yahr one o' th' most respected officahs in th' mountain, wot." His demeanor lacks its usual hardened, gruff edge. He respects Gregorian almost more than any other hare in the Patrol, despite outranking him. "Don't be so 'ard on yahself, alright? That's an ordah..."

Gregorian continues to frown but he doesn't argue. After all, it was an order. A little huff and he looks back at the swamp again "We just have tah get them back"

Terrence gives a smile at that, his left canine tooth missing. "Won't find any disagreement with that here, sarge, wot!" He shifts the spear, readjusting his weight. "Though how many toads do you think there are, sahs? Or do we know if they're more active during the day or the night?"

Varus shrugs his shoulders and sighs. "I'm not th' biggest expert on toads, I'm afraid... There *are* likely t' be dozens, though. Not a force t' be undahestimated..."

Gregorian brushed up on whatever knowledge they had on the swamps and their inhabitants before the whole thing so it's fresh in his mind "It's hard tah know exact numbahs at any one time but the scouts are doin' a count so we should have a good idea when they return. The toads don't tend tah like the cold, yah don't see them out of their village in the wintah time...at least that was plan. I don't think a direct offensive is likely tah be a good ideah eithah way"

The corporal taps his spear. "Suppose not, sah. I imagine if we did that they might just go ahead and kill their captives, if they haven't, well..." Terrence trails off, biting his lip. "So when are we expecting the scouts back, then?"

Varus shades his eyes again. "Before dahk, most likely..."

Gregorian nods once as Varus answers the question about the scouts "If they're not back by then we have more problems" he grumbles. He finally glances over to Terrence "If we can sneak a for in, break them out and scarpah that would be ideal...though if yah don't mind me sayin' so yah look like yah could barely make the walk. Are the healahs goin' soft?"

"Now that I think about it," Terrence starts almost absentmindedly, rubbing his chin with a wince, "I think I've read somewhere that toads are more nocturnal, I believe, and they like the rain, wot." The corporal sits down on the top of the dune, facing the major and sergeant. "I think if we can get a dry day we could manage it, sah. And I'll be fine soon enough, sarge! It's only flesh wounds, these are, wot!" He pulls himself upwards with his spear to stand on his two feet to prove his point, though the hare does wobble ever so slightly. "See, nearly perfectly fit as a fiddle, sah!"

It had taken a few hours after being dragged back to the toads' village before Dom had even begun to stir; the large hare had taken a beating that more than likely would have slain any beast smaller and weaker than him, and so when his eyelids finally stir then gradually open, he finds himself staring at what appear to be....bars...of some sort? Wooden bars, as if forming some type of...cage? Huh. It takes the hare a few groggy moments to begin to recall what had happened the previous day, and the reason why he is in the spot he is in. Lifting his head gingerly, his expression a confused one at first, it shifts into a pained one as the ache in his skull begins to pound. He rests his cheek back down on the ground again after a moment, his face a mess of dried blood and bruises, lumps dotting the space between his ears, and the back of his head as well. He appears to be alone, his comrades more than likely stashed away in a separate location, though he is slightly aware of being watched from outside the cage. By many, many pairs of eyes. Creepy, toady eyes.

Varus eyes Terrence. "Ah, Greg, I made th' decision ta allow 'im t' come along, wot..."

Gregorian frowns thoughtfully at Terrence's words "Hm. I read of the cold part but I don't recall it mentionin' nocturnal...perhaps there was a second book" he keeps thinking as he watches Terrence's demonstration and he doesn't look entirely convinced but he nods at Varus anyway "If yah think that's wise sah"

CROAK, came a noise from nearby. It seems not all the pairs of eyes are outside the cage, with one large toad, a sickly pale color, standing on the other side of the pen. It croaks again, standing as if its about to launch itself at the big hare. The other toads are making noises themselves, though they are most hushed, waiting in anticipation. "Glurg?" The pale toad beats his belly with a fist, before roaring, "Glag!" Those watching break out in a chorus of croaking, jumping up and down wildly as they begin chanting, "GLAG-GLAG-GLAG!" The big toad leaps at the private with spittle foaming from his mouth, brining its' impressive webbed fists to bare.

Meanwhile, across the marshland, the corporal nods thankfully at the major. "Yes, thank you for that, sah." Terrence has stopped relying on the spear to stand by now, though he still favors his left leg over his right.

Dominik at least had enough wherewithall to roll in the opposite direction as he senses the bloated form leaping into the air and down towards him. He manages to roll away just in time before the pale toad crashes down right where he'd been lying a moment before. Knowing he is in danger, though not completely aware of exactly the reasoning behind it, the large hare manages to push himself halfway back up to his footpaws. Staggering, he uses the cage bars to tug himself upright, finally reaching his footpaws, where he sways dizzily once his eyes open again. He stares at the toad through half-lidded, swollen eyes, just hanging there on the cage for a few moments as his mind works swiftly to figure out what's going in. "...erg..."

Varus's long ears perk. He can swear he hears the distant croaking growing suddenly louder. "Mmm, call it a lapse in judgement, per'aps," he says to Greg. "I find I like this lad, though. Reminds me o' mahself at 'is age..."

Gregorian's ears perk too and twitch a little as he tries to decide if he hears something "Mm" he agrees with Varus "Wealth of knowledge...as yah'd expect from a hare who spends time in the library" he watches the swamp closely though everything appears to be normal "I had tah send Cera home by the by. She appeared tah be havin' issues with listenin' tah officahs" best to keep the higher ups informed.

"Erg? Erg?! ERG!" The toads seem to find that word hilarious, and many are soon jeering it at the hare, while others still chant, "GLAG!" But some toads are screaming out, "ERG, ERG!" as if they're rooting for the hare! The big pale toad, for its part, slaps its big bloated belly again, croaking out almost questioningly, "Erg blog?" before throwing back its ugly head and opening its massive mouth, "BlOG-GLURG, ERG GLAG!" With that, the toad tosses itself at Dominik, intending to crush him with its considerable weight.

Terrence casts his gaze down at the major's words, not sure how to respond to the compliment beyond a muttered, "Er, thank you, sah." However, to the sergeant, the corporal responds, "It was in an old report, I think, wot. Written before I was born, Sah! If there's a day that's both particularly cold and dry, perhaps that would be a good time to start from, eh? Of course, once we know where they all are, that is. As for that Cera, she was trouble even before we set off on the exercise - pushed a fellow private, she did, wot! Bad form."

Varus quirks a brow. He has to think about the name Cera. Is she in his Patrol? So many names and faces to keep track of. "Wot ho, bad form, wot... Somebeast'll give 'er a propah dressin' down, though..."

Dominik seemingly doesn't have all that much time to regain his bearings, as that strange toad he finds himself trapped with flings itself right at him again. He takes a couple of staggering steps to the side, moving just in time as the toad smashes into the bars instead of hare-body. Dizziness still quite prevalent within his skull, his vision blurs and fizzes, still trying to focus on one particular thing so he can get a bead on his surroundings. He stumbles forward a few more steps, trying to get a good distance away from his attacker so that he can steady his footpaws. Wasn't the first time he'd had to fight while battered and bruised...in the North, it was simply how they would train. His ears perk up as he hears the word he had uttered in confusion being shouted and cheered back at him. What a strange place, indeed. Reaching up a hefty paw to rub at his eyes, Dom gives a shake of his head, before slowly lifting his gaze to settle upon the toad. He steadies his stance now, his nose and whiskers twitching a time or two. "Erg," he repeats, his voice low and hoarse, though it still possesses that booming quality. It's almost as if it's his way of saying 'bring it on'.

Gregorian raises an eyebrow at Terrence "Hrm, no wondah I didn't read that. It's near enough impossible tah find anythin' specific in the old reports, I hadn't even tried" he nods at the bit about Cera pushing the other patroller "Yes. Thank you for handlin' that. I believe she was away for some time, injured aftah the Redwall incident but apparently though I am bossy and mean and readin' is borin' so wot's the point?" he wrinkles his nose "I'm not prepared tah deal with that out here tahday"

"Yes, well, was no problem, sah." Terrence replies, rolling his shoulder. "And if I were you, I'd rather not have beasts like that out here, either. She could get herself, or, worse, someone else killed behaving like that, wot."

The toad is too preoccupied with the ringing in its head after smacking the bars to follow up the attack. As it groans, the others are cheering and jeering towards their brethren, now, with croaks of, "ERG BLAG!" And, "ERG GlO-BLOG! ERG GLO-BLOG!" The pale toad finally recovers, turning with a slight wobble towards the hare. It glares daggers at him, letting out low, deep croak. "Erg-log-esh. Blog glo-erg." It taps itself on its chest again then points to the hare, suddenly screaming again, "BLOG GLO-ERG, BLOG GLO-ERG!" The crowd falls silent at the shout, watching intently as the big toad starts to circle the private.

Dominik had only really needed those few extra moments when the toad brained himself on the bars to get back enough awareness to realize that this is indeed a fight. Not really sure as to why, it doesn't really seem to matter to the towering hare the more he thinks it over. A fight's a fight, and fighting is what he loved to do the most. As the toad begins to circle, Dom does as well, in the opposite direction. He is measuring up his opponent as much as he is able with his limited vision, and he can already spot a weakness or two. Dom smirks at the shout, his voice rumbling low in stark contrast to the display put on by the pale toad, "...blubguts is loud, yes, but...loud...is not veapon." Biding his time, Dom continues to circle, giving the toad the opportunity to attack first.

Varus frowns. "Cera 'as been actin' erratically since th' disastrous mission t' Mossflowah... She may need counsellin', wot..."

Gregorian hrms "Well that's a job for the healahs and the mountain. Not for the heat of battle. We have enough tah deal with out here...Do yah hear the toads now? They're soundin' a bit uppity" if only he had any idea what was currently going on over there.

The corporal nods, slowly. "Hmm... Seems like that mission keeps coming back to bite us, wot." Terrence moves to rest one leg up atop the dune, looking out towards were sound could be heard faintly, ears up and perked as he listens. "I think so, sarge. Wonder what's up with them, eh? Though," he adds, after a moment or so, "If I might say so, Sah, I think she should be removed from active duty until it's all sorted out, wot. If Cera were to push a fellow patroller while in a battle, let's say, the result could be a small disaster on its own, wot wot."

"Blub-gah, loug...Ag-gon?" Some toads chitter to each other, confused by the words. The pale toad simply roars again, snapping its head down and charging full force at Dominik without really looking, disregarding its own safety. "GLURG-GLURG-GLURG!" The onlookers are working themselves back into a frenzy, especially now that the big hare looks ready to give a fight. "ERG! ERG! ERG!" Some chant, cheering the private onward.

Dominik is almost taken aback by how downright easy this is as the toad lowers his head and blindly charges towards him. Even with limited vision, the large hare can see him coming a mile away. It was his first mistake thinking Dom was simply like any other hare, and that mistake would likely cost him in a matter of moments. Almost nonchalantly, Dom steps to the side to avoid the reckless charge, and once the toad rumbles past him, he aims a solid kick towards the toad's backside, putting his full force behind it to try and send him flying facefirst into the ground. Or perhaps even right into the cage. Even an injured Dom is more than a match for a toad, and it is quickly beginning to become evident. Dom tries to avoid the reaction from the crowd, though he cannot help but find it amusing that some appear to be on his side? Weird.

Varus peers out over the dunes. "Their king probably found 'imself a perfectly loathsome female t' be 'is mate or somethin'," he replies to Terrence. "I believe those *may be* Toad matin' croaks... Like I said, perfectly loathsome."

Varus peers out over the dunes. "Their king probably found 'imself a perfectly loathsome female t' be 'is mate or somethin'," he replies to Terrence. "I believe those *may be* Toad matin' croaks... Like I said, perfectly loathsome." The Major doesn't bother to mention how he has any idea what toad mating croaks would sound like.

Gregorian frowns at what sounds like chanting "Wotevah they're doin' I'm sure it's not good, we need tah get them out of there soon" his nose wrinkles sharply at Varus' words "Thank yah majah for that thought. I'll be picturin' frogs slow dancin' tahgethah in my nightmares from now on"

"Oh!" The corporal looks green for a moment, his ears shooting down. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..."
With a shake of his head, Terrence looks back up, a disgusted look on his face. "Do they really do that now? Ugh..." He shudders.

A loud crack rings out as the toad strikes the wooden bars at full force, slumping to the muddy ground below. Whether the sound was from the now bent wood or the large toad is yet to be determined. The crowd of spectators are absolutely silent for a beat, before erupting into cheers of, "ERG, ERG, ERG!" However, not every toad is cheering. Many morosely turn away from the cage, their faces dark, while others just stare in shock and horror at the fallen toad, who was groaning slightly. An exchange of food seems to be taking place, with those who supported the toad handing those supporting the hare berries and bark, with a few dead bugs here and there. But - the fight's not over, not yet, at least. The pale, grotesque toad manages to stir, pulling itself up by the now crooked bars with a moan. Drool and slime pour from him as he turns hate filled eyes towards Dominik, and those so upset before come rushing back. "Blog! BLOG! BLOG!" a chant slowly starts up again, with all eyes now on the two creatures.

Varus nods solemnly. "Aye, they do, Son. Best not t' dwell on it... The scouts'll be back soon, though, then we c'n make our move..."

Gregorian gestures suddenly at Terrence as he looks at Varus "See?! Yah broke the corporal!" he pinches the bridge of his nose "Ug, I can't stop thinkin' about it. I'm going tah go and write a note back tah the mountain about Cera. Let me know if there's any news but for the love of keepin' my stomach down lets nevah talk about that again"

Dominik counted on the toad not being completely finished by the headfirst dive into the bars, and so by the time the pale toad manages to stagger back up to his hideous webbed feet, the large hare is already right on him. More than likely too bad for those who rushed back thinking this in any way would be a contest, Dom uses those rough, hefty paws the way he had been taught, thudding them in a flurry into the toad's face with heavy, clubbing blows, aiming right for the eyes. He then aims a shot or two at the wide, pale belly, his full force put behind each of the punches. The hare means business, and woe be to anyone who happened to be in his way at this point in time. Namely, that poor toad. Not caring if the toad falls, Dom continues his onslaught, paws beating down and raining blows upon the unfortunate creature. He makes no sound while doing it, his eyes narrowed and fixed down on the toad, his ears perked and wiggling...the only sound is the sound of his paws thudding into toadflesh over and over.

The big toad is out by the second punch. By the time the hare hits its stomach and the toad violently regurgitates its last meal, with half of those watching very quiet, except for those laughing at the misfortune of their fellows. "ERG, ERG, ERG, ERG!" The chant grows and grows, continuing as the poor toad is pummeled into a blubbering mess of pale flesh and yellowish slime. Its twitching now, having stopped major movements by the seventh hit. Many toads who had expected another round of fighting turn away, almost as if they couldn't watch the horror anymore. A strong, repugnant smell rises from the pale toad, as well as sicking squishing sounds each time Dominik's paws connect with what is left of it.

"Have fun with that, Sarge!" The corporal, who is mostly recovered from the mental image, calls after Gregory as he leaves. "I don't intend to dwell on it, sah! Not on my life, wot!" Terrence, while ignoring the wild noises from the marsh, does look in the direction. "Though...don't they do that in the spring, after they wake up after the winter, wot?"

Varus rubs his chin. "Hrm. Y' make a good point, Lad. Greg's right, yahr quite well-read. A well-patrollah will go fahr, I always say. Still, those noises are... Curious. It would be prudent t' remain 'ere, but 'm growin' concerned..."

Dominik is quickly becoming covered in that yellowish slime the more he pummels the poor toad, and once that initial surge of anger passes, the large hare's punches slow until they finally stop. Breathing heavily, Dom raises himself back up to his full height, before reaching down and grabbing what was left of the pale toad in his large paw. Jerking it upright in a swift movement, Dom holds the dripping, stinking mess of toadflesh aloft, making a slow turn to show -everyone- what exactly he is capable of if they try him. "ERG!" he barks, his voice booming throughout the swamps, echoing ominously. Approaching the bars that had been dented by the toad's initial collision, Dom shoves his arm through the wider space made there, shoving the toad through and dropping the carcass outside his cage for all to stare at, before he turns and trudges back to the corner of the cell. He crouches there, swollen eyes staring out into the crowd with an icy gaze.

"ERG, ERG, ERG!" The toads echo the hare, before shouting as one, "ERG-GLOG, ERG-GLOG!" Several point to their to open mouths, seemingly wanting the private to devour his fallen opponent. The blob that is the toad is unmoving with the creature's head dangling at an unnatural angle. The toads who catch the stare are unfazed, instead chanting with all the more vigor, "ERG-GLOG BLOG, ERG-GLOG BLOG!" They are louder than ever, screaming out in croaky voice and jumping up and down, while food is passed between those who supported the hare and those who didn't.

Terrence ears shoot up at the increase of sound despite his best efforts, and he spares a glance towards the major. "Well, thank you, sah. As am I... They sound almost excited, wot!"

Dominik stares out at the chanting toads, it taking a few moments for the hare to realize what the toads are implying. The pointing-to-their-open-mouths thing is a major clue, however, and Dom sloooowly rises back up to his footpaws. He stumps slowly over towards the spot where he had dropped the deceased toad, the large hare staring down at it for a long while, his brain whirring as he tries to figure out how best to handle this. Finally, he crouches down, reaching a paw out to sink his paw into the yellowish slime coating the dead toad. Rising again, he smears it first down over one eye, and then the other, making identical marks...a grotesque type of facepaint, it seems. He then reaches out through the bars, attempting to grab the nearest toad who happened to stray too close...

The toads closest to the bars leap back, still chanting - others are confused, however, staring at what is to them a mad beast wasting food to paint his face... Soon the chanting dies out, though some nervously continue, "Erg, erg, erg..." before all falls quiet. However, one toad isn't fast enough, and starts croaking wildly in terror as the slimy paw grabs it. "ERG-DAL, ERG DAL!!" it shrieks out, doing its best to wiggle free. "ECK ECK!"

Varus harrumps. He squints. He thinks he can see one of the scouts off in the distance. Perhaps this may be an excuse to get some action. "Well, Corporal... Per'aps I shouldn't inflate yahr ego so much." He eyes the younger buck.

"Perhaps, sah," Terrence replies cheekily, "But you might not hear me complaining, wot." The corporal catches sight of the scout as well, "Though, in all seriousness, sah, I'll be careful not to let it go to my head, wot. Words are only words, wot. No offense, of course, sah!"

Dominik's muzzle creases into what can be best described as a sadistic grin, as he realizes he managed to snag one of the toads! It was a 50/50 shot either way. Fishing for toads was a success! His paw grips the toad in a firm, unbreakable grip, leering down at him. He had known what he was planning on doing the second he heard the toads chanting and pointing to their mouths, and so he draws the toad close to the bars forcefully. Slamming him a couple of times into the bars to daze him, Dom then leans his head down and sinks those massive teeth right into the side of the toad's neck. He jerks his head back with a strong motion, ripping backwards, more than likely trying to take half his neck with him, before finally releasing the poor unfortunate creature.

Varus laughs, in spite of himself. "I's say yahr incorrigible, Corporal, but that'd be entirely untrue." The old veteran turns away for a moment, gets lost in his thoughts. He wishes Adrian were more like Terrence, at least as far as putting up with the Major's company. But they barely get along. Shaking his head, he sighs, then waves his paw in the direction of the scout, who returns the gesture. The hare is making good time, and two others can be seen not far behind. "Looks like we'll soon learn wot's got th' bloody toads so excited..."

Ears perked up, Terrence watches the scout coming expectingly. "Well, thank you, again, Sah." The corporal says with a slight grin, "And I daresay its about time. Something to distract us from the toad sounds, wot!" He lifts his spear, adding to Varus' efforts to wave over the scout.

The scream from the dying toad falls on deaf ears. The rest are stunned into silence, staring with wide eyes and open mouths at the hare who seemingly is eating their kin, still writhing in Dominik's grip. A bystander croaks out, "Glog?" Others answer, "GLOG-GLOG!" They throw back their heads and cackle, starting up yet another chant even as the toad, now missing a chunk of his neck, gurgles and whimpers. "ERG-GLOG, ERG-GLOG!"

Dominik doesn't exactly end up eating that chunk of toadflesh he had ripped from the unfortunate victim's neck. What, how savage do you think he is??? Sheesh! Spitting it back out at the toads gathered nearest the cage, Dom gives the dying toad a hefty boot through the bars, knocking him away. He points down at the toad, before pointing a yellow stained paw up at the gathering. His expression is steely, cold, and rather frightening to behold, especially with the toadblood staining his features. "Erg." he replies simply, his voice low and just as icy as his gaze. He once again turns and limps back to his spot at the back of the cage, crouching there once again.

As the first scout nears where Varus and Terrence are standing, he throws a hasty salute. "Major Varus, Sah. We bring news." The Major nods. "Gi' yahr report, Private Benjamin."

Terrence remains quiet, waiting intently to hear what they'll say. He shifts one one foot to the other.

The toad back hastily away, letting out a sickly, Croak. The rest of the toads, confused as the hare spits and tosses his prey away, stare at him. Then, as they hear what the hare says, a few chortles can be heard. "Erg, BLOG-EG!" Some shout, before they leap on their injured comrade, tearing into it. They aren't eating the squealing toad, however, instead opting for biting and spiting out its flesh. From the mass of toads the same repugnant stench as the pale body next Dominik arises.

Dominik really doesn't seem to mind it in the least as the toads all leap onto the injured toad and begin tearing him to pieces. As a matter of fact, he simply sits back and watches with that cold and impassive gaze. Let them take each other out. It'd leave less for his comrades to have to deal with once they decided to make their appearances. After awhile, that little, sadistic grin begins to creep back upon his muzzle. It is a side of Dom that likely hadn't been seen before, and more than likely would only be brought out when absolutely necessary. Slumping down onto his bottom eventually, the injured and exhausted hare's head droops, eyes closing as the various aches and pains begin to show themselves all throughout his body. Once that adrenaline wears off, man...ouch.

Private Benjamin salutes again. "Sah. Th' warty blaggahds 'ave sev'ral prisonahs. We saw Felicity 'n' Zolomon. We think Dominik is bein' kept inna biggah cage by 'imself, but we didn't directly see 'im, Sah. Th' toads seem t' be conductin' some strange ritual, though. Even th' guahds f'r the prisonahs were takin' part... It...may be a sacrifice, Sah." Varus grimaces with distaste at that word.

The corporal raises an eyebrow as he looks at the major, "Well, that's bloody good news, wot! Some ours are alive... Though..." Terrence stops, hearing the shrieking croaks in the distance. "A sacrifice? Bad business..."

Indeed, one might say a sacrifice is taking place. The toads, having thoroughly ripped their comrade apart, part, leaving the body parts and little pieces of gore scattered on the ground. From behind them, a toad, smaller than others, comes barring a wooden platter with several large, fat worms on it, before depositing it within the hare's reach. "Erg-Glog, Erg-glog." Every toad begins to mutter amongst themselves, waiting to see what the big hare will do to the worms and small toad.

Varus harrumps. "Well, that does explain their agitation, wot. I 'ah heard seasons ago that frogs 'n' toads... Even lizahds, too, sometime conduct sacrifices of woodland creatures... I doubt they'd succeed at tying down Private Dominik, though... I don't want t' even think who it could be..." He frowns sharply.

At this point in time, Dom's energy has begun to dissipate, sapped by his fight and subsequent activities afterwards. Head drooping further, the large hare eventually begins to slooowly list to the side, before he finally slumps down to the ground. His vision goes black like a television being turned off, and soon enough he falls into unconsciousness, the plate of worms and small toad not even looked at or acknowledged as he lies there sprawled out on his side.

The small toad sits by the cage for some time, even as the majority leave once its clear nothing will happen. Some remain, hopeful 'Erg' will do something, anything, but they end up waiting for hours. The disappointed croaks of the bystanders is load, though it soon fades away. Their show ended, they go back to doing whatever toads do with free time when not watching fights.

The other two scouts eventually catch up, as well, and Varus directs the three back to the makeshift camp. Tonight, a plan of attack and rescue will be formulated. Tomorrow? Anything could happen.

Ol'random · Logs

(OOC: The following was RP'd after Dominik disconnected and took the radio with him )

The corporal lags a little behind them all, limping over to Varus. He offers a very shaky salute, nearly falling over as he says, "Sah! Fancy meetin' ya here, wot! Thanks f'the help, y'bloody good chap!" Terrence gives a wide grin that looks like death, what with the wounds to his arms and legs, his bloody lip and missing teeth.

Varus peers around, and sees only Terrence as the ranking hare. He returns the salute. His force of ten veterans is mopping up the resistance, leaving not a one of the toads alive. "Corporal Terrence. I take it yahr commandin' officah is... I don't see Gregorian, eithah..."

The toads are now dead or fleeing far away from the hares, their croaks fading in the distance.

Still reeling from the rock to the face from earlier, Terrence simply blinks at the major for a moment. "Oh! Eh," He pauses, looking with unfocused eyes at the hares behind him, "Well, Sergeant Greg's back there I think, wot." He points for good measure. "We were split up inta smaller groups an' the like, I dunno know where tha' officah's are, sah."

Varus nods. "Right then. F'r now yer mah second in command. Gi' me th' situation report, Corporal. But per'aps y' should sit... Julian, y' got got medic experience, correct?" A hare who looks ancient and walks with a noticeable limp makes his way toward Terrence. "Yes sah, I do. C'mon, lad, let's get y' looked at..."

Nodding gratefully, the young hare moves to sit on a nearby log. The left side of Terrence's face is turning an ugly shade of blue and yellow around the cut lip, and his arm has a deep stab wound with his leg likewise injured. "Thank ya', sah..." The corporal mutters as he sits. "As far as I know, sah, Corporal Felicity, private Dominik, private Zolomon, private Konner are captured or killed, with at least five hares I know of unaccounted for - Privates Cera, Nilear, an' Isla. Tha's all I know off in mah group, wot. Haven' tha' time to find out abou' tha' othah group-s, sah! Toads an' frogs attacked Zolomon when he rushed on ahead, and we've been fighting for our lives since, well, till ya came along, o'course, sah..."

The medic hare Julian starts pulling out rolls of bandages from his pack, and begins to wrap it around the stab wound on Terrence's arm. Varus, meanwhile, listens intently, and nods. "That's a sizable numbah t' killed or captured. Y' fought well, though. Agh, but we're goin' t' have t' send a rescue pahty. As soon as possible... I 'ate toads..."

"Thank ya, sah, an' remember t'bally-well sign m'up fo'tha'!" Terrence says with a toothy grin. "Don' wan' to leave m'mates in their slimy clutches any longer than necessary, wot!" He winces as the bandages wrap around his arm, taking a deep breath. "I think in th'othah groups th' losses are mim-mininal," The corporal stumbles over the word, continuing, "Minimal, wot. Think I see jolly ol' private Lackley ovah there, sah, I do..."

Varus squints into the waning light. Stars are coming out. Being out so far from the mountain after dark with so many injured hares is not the most ideal situation. "Mmm, Well, don't die on us, lad. Ah, right... Wherevah Greg is... I need t' find 'im. We're goin' t' make a strategic retreat, wot. We're fahr too exposed out 'ere." He finally sheaths his sabre. Yes, c'mon, all beasts that c'n walk on their own, 'elp those that can't. We c'n get back t' th' mountain in about an hour..." He regards Terrence again. The old Major likes his fire. "An' I'll see about gettin' y' out 'ere f'r th' rescue..."

Terrence beams at those last words. "Thank ya! Don' worry 'bout me, sah, don' plan on dyin' now." In the dark, he pulls himself up on wobbling legs. "Also, sah," The corporal fully focuses on Varus, with some obvious effort, "If corporal Felicity's still kickin' when we rescue them, I think she needs some recognition, wot. Fought braver than th'rest of us, an' I think our group would all be slain or captured if she weren' there, sah...Went down fightin', she did, wot wot..."

Varus nods. Felicity is in his patrol. "She may well be due a commendation, in that regahd," he replies. His group of ten veterans are helping the injured hares get up on their feet, to start the march back toward the mountain. "I'll suggest that per'aps you ought get some sort of recognition, Corporal. So long as y' don't lag be'ind, wot!"

"Oh! Uh, right sah! Won't fall behind, no sah-ee!" Still addled from the knock, Terrence does his best to not 'lag be'ind'. He limps along with the hares, while more able-bodied beasts not helping with those wounded retrieve the bodies of their fallen comrades.

Yes indeed, Varus likes this Corporal. He'll have to try to remain professional regarding the smart up-and-comer. In the meantime there's the slow march home, with the injured... And the dead.

Ol'random · Logs

HARES ABOUND
Jinora,
Riley,
Terrence,
and Varus.

Atop one table on the far end of a room sits a small pile of papers with a few empty plates scattered about it. Having refilled his mug with mint tea, Terrence was making his way to it, meandering as he took a sip with one paw and looked over an old report with his other. Bumping into another table, thankfully empty, he looks around quickly and finished the rest of the trip back, paying more attention to his surroundings.

Sometimes one doesn't need to be reprimanded to get on meal cleanup duty. Riley had volunteered, throwing on a smock apron and carrying around a shallow wooden trough. She sweeps by tables, picking up leftover dishes and occasionally setting the trough aside to wipe a table down. She's moving to the cluttered one, beginning to pick up the empty dishes. "Yeh done wit' everything?" Riley asks, noticing Terrence making his way back. She motions to the empty plates.

Blinking, Terrence glances first from the hare to the dishes, then back again. "Eh, yes." He says, setting his mug down. "Thanks, private." He adds as he sits down, setting the paper with the others. After a moment, he looks Riley over. "Say, I don't think I've made your acquaintance yet. Cpl Terrence Cadwallader, at your service, wot!"

Riley begins to pick up plates, making sure to clink them down into her carrying tray gently. She doesn't seem to try and engage with him anymore until he speaks again. "Mnh?" Riley hums, her ears picking up a touch and her whiskers lifting as she smiles vaguely. "M'Riley Whorlbuck, sah. Private First Class, and the mountain's finest dish picker'upper." Another plate is lowered slightly into the wooden trough. "Yeh want more food while y'work? Still a stack o' cauliflower an' cream pasties in th' kitchen."

Did someone say "cream pasties"? That's Jinora's cue. The Major is trudging into the dining hall at the tail end of things, it would seem, and a beady, desperate stare falls on the current spread of vittles. 'I will cut a beast if they get in the way of her and dinner' those eyes say, though her mouth, instead, gives a cheery grin of greeting to a dish-stacked Riley.

Returning the smile, Terrence says, "Thanks, but no thanks - I've been learning to quit while I'm in terms of food, wot. Plus...well..." He tilts his head towards the kitchen. "I'm rather sure if I were to walk in there I'd be pressed into service cleaning, eh?" Chuckling to himself, he takes a long draft of his tea. "No offense t'you, of course."

Did someone say "cream pasties"? That's Jinora's cue. The Major is trudging into the dining hall at the tail end of things, it would seem, and a beady, desperate stare falls on the current spread of vittles. 'I will cut a beast if they get in the way of her and dinner' those eyes say, though her mouth, instead, gives a cheery grin of greeting to a dish-stacked Riley. "Dish duty again, Private?" She teases, angling to slip towards the food itself and, with a plate in paw, begins to pile it obscenely high. She'll have to make a second trip just for the cream pastries. The Major, while perfectly capable of taking meals elsewhere, still prefers the comraderie of the mess - and it is thus that she drops to a seat nearby where Terrence and Riley converse.

Riley is about to answer Terrence when Jinora interrupts. She scoops up her trough, turning an ear before following with a twist of her neck. "It's like she can hear through rock solid walls, but only when yeh talk about food," Riley snorts, slicking her ears back and setting the last of Terrence's dishes into her arms. "If it's between volunteering here or th' leveret classes, I pick here every time. You know that." Riley's nose wrinkles and she starts for the long, low cut window into the rock that offers a glimpse into the kitchens and from the kitchens out. "Cleaning is nearly done," Riley announces, mostly to Terrence, as she pushes the wood trough to the service counter and rolls her shoulders. "I'll get'cha those pasties, Majah. Wouldn't mind one m'self." For just a few moments, Riley pops into the back, coming up on the other side to pull the trough over to the water basins. Talk amongst yourselves!

For a moment Terrence seems as if he's about to jump to attention at the major's appearance, but he relaxes, nodding to Riley. "Oh? Are they indeed? Feel like that's a new record..." Sitting down, finally, the hare watches the private go before turning to Jinora. "Hello there, Major. Don't suppose you remember me, wot, its been a few seasons, eh?"

"Private, yer th'wind in me sails." The Major doesn't hear Riley's comments about food, her ears, and stone... But it doesn't make them any less true. "'Course I remember yah!" The Major balks, giving a good natured chuckle. Everything in her demeanor screams 'off duty right now', and she doesn't go pursuing petty breaches of conduct. If she had a beast flogged every time they didn't salute her in the mess hall, she'd have time for little else. "They've assigned ya to me bally unit. Now go grab a mop an' start cleanin' up with Private Whorlbuck." She gives a pause just long enough to see if he is hopping to it, before giving another laugh. "Kidding. Eat yer food. I've no intention of doin' anythin' else." And she tucks in with the verocity of... Well... A hare.

There's a brief moment Terrence ponders the outcome if he doesn't jump to it, before her words put him at ease once again. "Well, I got no food right now, major, though I suppose if one were hungry enough they could, well," he waves towards the small pile of papers, "Eat these...doubt that'd be good for my digestion, though, eh?"

"We've all taken *munch, munch, munch* a bite'r two of *slurp, snorf, sssshhhurk* papah work in our day, Corporal." Jinora grunts out between mouthfuls. "Doesn' make it go any faster, m'afraid." There's a sympathetic half-smirk given to Terrence and his work, but then she shrugs. It's the burden of Corporal - all parchment and training, no fun.

Clanking and dish scrubbing is heard for just a minute or so before Riley returns with a plate of the pasties. Her paws are damp, and a few soap suds still cling to the fur around her wrists as she delivers the plate to Jinora. "At least one of those are mine," she warns before flopping down into a seat next to Jin and across from Terrence. "Any sort o'work yer doing we can help with, sah?"

Offering a shrug, the corporal responds, "Not really - just correcting and clarifying some of these ol'things, but thank you. Admittedly its partially my fault I still have some today, wot! Got distracted looking over an old piece about some battles some time ago, well, doesn't matter much now, does it? " He finishes his tea, pausing as he sets the mug down to look at the plate. "You know what? If you're willing to spare one of those, it could help a bit, wot." He says with grin.

"If I could promote based on cream pastries, ya'd be brigadier by now, Riley." Jinora assures the doe, immediately snatching one such pastry from the plate. At Terrence's suggestion, she gives a cream-clogged gurgle of laughter and pinches a second one free as well. This one is offered over to him. "No good work ever got done on an empty stomach, wot!"

"I didn't make them," Riley snorts at Jinora as she picks one up and bites into the flaky crust. She looks to Terrence and winks, reaching for the plate and sliding it over. "Pasties taste bally good, sah. Can't blame yeh." She munches another bite of hers, stands, and takes his mug. "Mint?" she says without waiting for the answer. Hare noses are no slouches. "Yeh have honey with yer tea?" Riley calls over her shoulder as she saddles up to the table by the serving area with the large clay pitchers of tea, beer and water.

"Why, thank you." Terrence takes the offered pastry in one paw, picking up a nearby quill with his other. Underlying a section of the report, he absent-mindedly takes a bite of the pastry as he does so. "Oh!" The hare says around a mouthful, perking up, looking from major to the private. "Well, whoever did make these," Terrence swallows, "Should be...and yes, yes it is. Or, well, was. And yes again. It's a terrible sweat tooth, I have."

"Make it two!" Jinora calls cheerily over her shoulder, towards Riley and her tea errand. "S'nothin wrong with a sweet tooth - ya had th'rosehip brew they 'ave at the Tavern sometimes? Comes in th'summahs and tis -" She puts her claws to her lips and makes a 'chef kiss' gesture. "We'd be a Patrol run by cooks if hares could promote with their stomachs."

"Two teas!" Riley pipes up, grabbing a new mug from the pile and dumping the tea from the pitcher into the mugs. She makes a mental note as she dumps honey in both, holding out Terrence's out further as she returns. "Yours, Corp," she says cheerfully, "an' yours, Majah." She sits back down, digging into her pasty once again. "I can't cook, alas. Guess I'll just have t'deal with being a private with as little responsibilities as possible." The sigh comes across as a joke and Riley wilts into her seat dramatically. "All of the free time! Wot's a hare t'do?"

Giving a dry chuckle with a rueful shake of his head, Terrence says, "I have, actually. Offered to pay for my squads drinks! Worst mistake of my life, wot!" He accepts the refill with gracious look. "Thanks! And as for bein' run by cooks, well, I'd barley well think we'd never have trouble with insubordination or any trouble in our ranks ever again, wot."

Laughing, Jinora stands. "Aye! That's th'truth. But punishment by cooks? Ya ever been flogged with a wooden spoon? S'not pretty." Her chuckle prevails as she reaches out to relief Riley of one of those mugs. "Suppose I should get some work done tonight. Enjoy yours, kids!" The major calls over her shoulder, and is lost from sight.

"Volunteering for kitchen duty also keeps the wooden spoon floggings at bay," Riley points out as Jinora gets up. "Ah, see?" she says to Terrence as the Major departs. "I am now done with my kitchen duties. Now I am done for the day. Ready for ordahs in the morning, but the evening is mine." She stretches, exhales gratefully, and chews the delicious mash of cauliflower and cream.

Giving a pointed look from over his spectacles from papers to private, Terrence writes in a correct spelling. "Good for you. Unfortunately some of us beast must slave away into the wee hours of the night, wot!" Smirking, after a moment, he adds, "Of course I'm jesting, well, for the most part, at least...Enjoy the free time while you have some is my advice!"

Riley and Terrence are at one of the smaller tables off to the side of the large banquet setting. The chambers are mostly empty, but there is food and drink set up for those dining later than the usual dinner time. Their table is full of Terrence's work, and Riley is still in a kitchen working apron. "Free time is something I've got in spades," Riley says, eating at her pasty with a vigor to it. Kitchen work is hard! Another pasty is snagged and immediately set into. "M'a night owl. Work is for the day, though." She stretches her legs out and reaches for the... "Blast an' fluff. Need a drink, dun'I?" The doe leaps up, making for the water and drink table. She bypasses the tea and goes for a flagon of beer. Pouring it, Riley looks over her shoulder. "Need 'nything while m'up?"

That's certainly a good time for Varus to stroll in. He's had a *day* and a half. The elder hare is reading over a sheaf of papers, as he makes his way toward the food to snag himself a late meal. His wife would certainly disapprove, but she's at their home in Halyard. Spotting the two younger hares, he harrumps. "Corporal Terrence... Private Riley... Evenin'."

"No, I'm good with boring ol' tea!" Terrence calls, raising his half-full mug. "Honestly," he mutters, more to himself than anyone else, "I remember when I would say that, eh, wot? Now look at me." An almost pathetic laugh escapes him. "Oh!" The young corporal waves over at the elder. "Good evening, sah!"

Riley is returning with her beer, nodding to Varus as he enters. "Sah. Sitting down for a spotta an' a bite," she says, motioning to Terrences tea, the plate of pasties, and the other bits of food around. "Well, beer for me, at least. Care t'join?"

Varus casts his glance over Terrence. "Y' look like yahr Da," he remarks, whilst he nods to Riley. "Join you? 'M not sure tha's propah. But per'aps we c'n ovahlook that." He pours himself a mug of ale, and picks up a plate of pasties for himself.

Dipping his head forward, Terrence replies, "Yes, well, er, thank you, sah..." The hare seems a bit uncomfortable with Varus' observation. "Well, our major just left us, she did. Seems we traded one for another, eh, wot wot?"

Riley looks bemused. "Oh, aye! Seat is still warm wit' that majorly essence." Her whiskers twitch with a cheeky wink at Terrence. She pokes the rest of her pasty into her mouth, chewing happily at the warm, delicious bite. The runner doe rolls her head to the side to stretch out her neck muscles. "Ran too much t'day t'think straight. Halyard twice over. Good workout, though. You lot do 'nything more exciting? Could use a good yarn with this beer." Riley lifts the mug up for emphasis.

Varus harrumps. "Majahly essence?" He doesn't sound entirely convinced or amused, but he sits, regardless. "I 'ad ta look ovah the trainin' evaluations for the newest class o' recruits. Not entirely wot I considah a good time, wot. But, it's necessary, so I buggah on. And wot are you doin', Corporal?"

Terrence simply blinks, looking down at the pile of papers. "I'm afraid not anything worthy of telling. Leastways not if you don't count hours and hours of correcting errors a good yarn, of course." He gives Riley a wink in return. "There's always at least one bloomin' private who can't tell the difference between a report and their napkin, wot!"

"I dunno, sounds fun," Riley insists to the older hare. "Get to see what the future of the patrol looks like. Shape 'em up. Make 'em know what it's like tah be a patrollah!" Says the runner who is currently stuffing pasties down her throat and washing it with beer. "You an' Quinten mus' get along, Terrence. You know ol' Quinny, eh? Always in the library with a book stuck t'his nose."

Varus harrumps again. He is full of harrumping this evening. "While y' make a bloomin' good point, Private, the problem is that most of these potential recruits are... Well, Green is puttin' it lightly. Unlike seasons past the majority we're lookin' at were not raised in th' Mountain. They 'ave no idea wot they're in for. It's troublin'."

"Seems like a persistent problem, I'd say." Terrence moves on to a new report, clicking his tongue as he looks over it. "Summer before last my squad all were rather, well," crossing out a word, he says with emphasis, "Underprepared, to put it lightly, wot."

"Th' old mountain lines are dying out," Riley says, a bit of seriousness that isn't like her creeping into her tone. "Lookit me. M'th' very last Whorlbuck an' we've been patrol hares few before my great grandparents could even remember." Her teeth click on her flagon's rim and she glances between the two. "But I'll take greens over nothing. If y'need help with th' sorry lot o'em, Majah, jus' ask."

Varus nods, laying aside his stack of papers. "Will do, Private. I know yahr reputation for whippin' the recruits inta shape. You'll make a fine Corporal, wot." He takes a long swig from his flagon. "Alas, that isn't mah decision, is it?"

Dipping the quill in the ink bottle, the corporal spares Riley a glance. "That's true -my mother and I are all that remain of the Cadwalladers, and even then we're newer, relatively speaking, of course. Plus the fact she'd rather I didn't exist, well," Setting the quill down, Terrence looks up from his work. "I suppose it's not, sah, but I'd also say the problem isn't just green recruits, but, well, I've been paying attention to the reports of the bigger battles in recent seasons, and, er," He swallows, "It seems we've been taking far too many casualties than we should be - like that one last autumn, all but the badger lord and a hare were left standing...."

"Sounds rough," Riley says with a sympathetic glance at Terrence. She falls quiet as he mentioned the battle. The doe stands up, finishing her beer, and collecting any of the mugs and plates that the table is done with. "Corporal? How dare you," the runner jokes at Varus, offering him a smile. "I'll be a private until th' day I die, mark my words. Speaking of..." she steps away from the table, bowing to them instead of a salute... hard to do with arms full of dishes. "I am off t'enjoy my wonderfully free evening, officahs. Do take care and I shall see yeh around!" And with that the doe skips off to shed the dishes and her apron in lieu of a fun filled evening of cards in the rec room.

Varus stares at his flagon, as if contemplating it. He nods, as Riley departs. "Th' Patrol grew arrogant," he says at length. "It pains me t' say so, but it's true. We grew so confident of our abilities, that we marched right off into a massacre." He shakes his head slowly. "I've since voiced mah concerns." He finally takes another drink of ale. "Mah son was there. In Mossflowah. An' thank th' fates 'e survived. An' y'know why 'e did? Because 'e disobeyed a direct ordah. An' I 'ad ta punish 'im for it... We don't see eye to eye, I'm afraid..."

Watching the private go, Terrence is quiet for some time, digesting the major's words. "The squad I was with," he starts, "They were all there, and so too was my father. Arrogance was a soft word for him." Finishing his tea, he puts down the mug gently. "I feel like many hares here think personal glory and whatnot are worth the lives of others, especially in the recruits..." Another bout of silence falls before the corporal gazes over at Varus. "Sah, if you don't mind me asking, what's your son's name?"

Varus bites into a pasty, before he replies, "Adrian. Corporal Adrian Swiftbuck. 'E's a Runnah... An' 'e's mah second eldest... Mah eldest... Well, 'e passed away." The Major doesn't elaborate. "At any rate, I 'ad 'oped that Adrian would follow in mah footsteps an' be a Fightah, but 'e insisted on bein' a Runnah. It caused... A disagreement, between us. Our relationship's been strained for a few seasons now."

Terrence gives a mirthless chuckle. "Sounds a bit like my family - though I hadn't wanted to join the patrol in the first place, wot. Wasn't till my brother died in an accident that I came back and joined up...More for him than any other beast." He leans back, paperwork forgotten. "I don't think I ever formally met your Adrian, but I've seen his name from time to time in, well," The corporal waves to the pile.

Varus nods. "And you wouldn't. He's not in th' mountain. 'Asn't been for months now. 'E an' Private Montgomery 'ave been away on a mission of recruitment. His... punishment, f'r disobeyin' a direct ordah in th' heat o' battle, wot. We could 'ardly demote 'im, aftah all..."

"On that far flung recruitment trip, wot?" Terrence says, "I remember seeing the first notice of that, way back when." He peers at the major over his spectacles. "It's been at least since the spring since they left, right?"

Varus mmms. "Yes, it has been." He counts on his fingers. "Almost nine months. They're likely in the far South by now. I believe that was their general direction." He sighs, setting his empty flagon down on the table. "You 'ave mah condolences f'r yahr Da and brothah. I remembah yahr Da bein' a smaht up'n'comah many seasons ago. Tha's likely around th' time I was, too, ta be honest..."

Shrugging, the corporal says, "I suppose he was, and it would make sense. I fully admit I was a bit lax when it came to listening to him tell tales," Terrence looks at his lap, biting his lip ever so slightly, "I regret that now, of course. And thank you -" He bows his head towards Varus,"-You have mine as well, for your oldest..."

Varus raises his empty mug. "Thank you. 'E was a good lad..." The Major goes silent. "'E was, howevah, quite sickly. 'E was too young, I'm afraid..." The hare shakes his head. "Anyway... Will you be observin' the trainin' exercise in th' Marshes this Thursday? I am sure it'll be utterly routine..."

"I will." Terrence nods, "If only to make sure the hares don't go off and eat some random mushrooms and keep their feet in proper order and all that, wot. Swamp-foot's a nasty thing..." Starts to collect all the spread out papers, he puts them into a neat stack. "I just hope some of them have taken to heart the saying, 'wet feet are dead feet,' wot."

Varus snorts. "One should bloody well 'ope so. Just wot we need is a bunch o' green recruits losin' their feet." He shakes his head. "Ah well, I imagine I'll go along as well, if only ta make sure mah own patrol don't die..."

"Well," Terrence grins, "I daresay Sergeant Greg has a good enough head for all those beasts - I'm sure he'll mention it." Tapping the pile against the tabletop, he sets the papers down again, now perfectly laying atop each other. "I'm actually looking forward to it, myself. It'll be the first time since last autumn that I'll be out officially in the field again, wot!'

Varus quirks a brow. "That long, eh? Well then... Yer a sensible beast. Y' might not be in mah Patrol, but I do look forwahd to workin' wi' you. I think you've th' makin's of a fine officah, t' be honest..."

Terrence looks a bit taken aback. "Really? Well, thank you, sah! Look forward to working with you as well." Tapping his finger on the table, he adds in a more sheepish voice, "As for how long it was, well, lets just say it was because a punishment of sorts. I'll say er, well, managed to get a fish drunk on some very expensive wine with some mates, and leave it at that, wot."

Varus looks mildly surprised. "Well, well. That's a new one f'r me." He shakes his head. "Y' must've gotten it *extremely* drunk t' be punished that... Severely." He looks over his stack of papers again. "An' it must 'ave been truly expensive wine..."

"Yes, well," The corporal rubs the back of his head. "I won't comment on our soberness in the matter, either. And the particular barrel may or may not have been saved for a certain badger's nameday." Terrence smiles, his cheeks red. "Honestly I don't remember much else and have been, well, too scared to look at the full report, I have, wot wot. Though," the hare falls somber as he says, "I did take the full blame for it all - the others got off with barely a slap on the wrist, and, well, went off to Mossflower soon afterwards..."

Varus visibly winces, and shakes his head. "Ah, yes... Well... At least *you* are still 'ere. Tha's all that mattahs, wot..."

Terrence nods slowly, relaxing against the back of his chair. "Yes, I suppose that's true..." He looks down at his paws, falling silent.

Varus nods resolutely. "I'm goin' t' watch yahr career with interest, Corporal. Very keen interest." The Major is quite serious now. "Yer not in mah patrol, but that's beside th' point..." At that, the older hare stands. "F'r now, though, I need t' be gettin' some shut eye here..."

Nodding again, Terrence corks the ink bottle, saying as he does so, "Right then, Sah, thank you. I need to some myself, wot." Then, while picking quill and papers up, he grabs his empty mug. Bringing it over to the dish bin he deposits it, saying over his shoulder, "Really, thank you, Sah! Have a jolly good night!"

Ol'random · Logs

John, a squirrel,
Keldorn, a shrew,
Xander, a badger,
and four spoofs by me.

Xander was feeling better and did as he said he was gonna do, at Dinner he stepped in front of everyone and said simple words "I'm...sorry, so very..sorry for my actions" He only wished he could tell Benar but he knew he was in his room and for now didn't want to see him, Xander figured...ever again.He then left on out the doors of the cavern hole, to the great hall and entry where he got his blade, a small knapsack and a couple others things and started to head to the door.

John, who had been lingering in the background during dinner and Xander's speech, has abandoned his food to follow the badger. He stops just in front of the gates, watching him. "Xander," he says in a tone as if he were asking about the weather, "Were are y'off to, eh?"

Keldorn walked out into the entry and slowed a little, he didn't speak yet and listened to see what the reply would be.

Xander glances over, he sees Keldorn and frowns, he nods to John as he adjusts his pack.He frowns at his paw...there is usually a ring on it but he took it off, he sighs and answers finally"Somewhere...maybe just stay in Ferravale"

Nodding, the squirrel spares a glance towards the shrew but otherwise doesn't acknowledge him. Instead, John walks past Xander to where his own blade is kept, saying, "Do y'mind if I tag alon' fo' a bit? I got some things up that aways t'check on, I do." As he comes out, buckling the sword belt around his waist, he adds, "An' I promise I won' annoy y'too much, I swear."

Keldorn frowns, he clears his throat "Sir Xander...a few words if I can?" He walks closer "Do not do what I did..though I was much worse, in the end it is up to you what you do but dont do something you will regret later on"

Xander shrugs "Sure..."He frowns at the shrew "Too late fer that already did when I hurt Benar..."He shakes his head "I don't want to accidently hurt anyone else or worse...wot if I hurt Krisha next...no I need to just leave."Maybe after some thinking he will be back, its not clear."She will be fine "He seems to make sure he has things and then heads off through the gates.

Keldorn sighs "Sir Xander...."He decides to let the badger head off for now and walks back inside the main building hoping the badger just wants to think for a while.

John stands still, watching the retreating shrew, before turning back to the badger with a shrug. "Eh, I suppose y've got your mind made up, don' y'?" He starts for the gate, "Though, if y'wan' my opinion, I think y'might hurt Krisha either way..."

Xander walks along and is silent, then speaks "I..I don't know...guess I am afraid gonna hurt someone else, maybe Krisha or worse..achally kill someone and not on purpose either, I could of killed Benar and wot if I had...then wot? They likely would of banished me.I just...got ta think and figure things out. Like the past is the past yeah but like others can't always like said ok lets not worry..not sure I can totally"

"Well, what makes y'so scared?" John asks as he pushes open the right gate door. "If y'hurt others 'cause you're angry, perhaps y'should look back on what does it, shouldn't y'?" Stepping out onto the road, the squirrel takes a deep breath of the evening air. "It's nice out today, lets hope this lasts!"

Xander sniffs the air and manages a smile, he shrugs "I...don't know. Guess upset that...memory loss and all and how seem to keep loseing beasts either they leave to go elsewhere, leave the group or die."

John gives the badger a bemused look. "Suppose that's true, aren't it?" Sighing deeply, the squirrel starts the trek northwards. "'Tis a fact of life your goin' t'lose beasts close t' you, it is. Isn' that the truth..." He mutters more to himself than Xander.

Xander nods slowly "Yeah....guess.."He frowns "A leader type...thing but still. I...."He frowns "I need help and to clear my mind..someone said its all foggy and unclear, but its hard to clear one's mind when there is so much to think on and the wondering if beasts will forgive me or not."

"They will or they won', Xander." John responds matter-of-factly. "Either way, y'don' have much say in th' matter, y'don'. Don' go beatin' y'self up 'bout it because y'done all y'can, is what I say. It won' do no good t'worry now."

Xander seems to think on his words, then getting out in soem fresh air away from the abbey maybe helps, telling a large group of beasts sorry...maybe helped"I still have a tavern to check on, just hope Patch didnt do somrthing stupid...I might go back, dont know yet...right now...no..maybe I can try stresss cooking or..potttry, I do remember it helped..a little "The Redthorn Tavern will likely soon have dozens of differnt flavoried muffins and cookies soon

"Patch?" John stops, incredulous, "Y'mean t' say that piece of wormbait is still lingerin' about, he is?" He turns to Xander a slight laugh. "I'm sorry mate, but I doubt that rat's no' don' somethin' stupid. Seems t'be a part of who he is, aren't it?"

Xander says, "He works in the tavern, knowing him likely doing a lot of stuff with the fighting pits..he probally thinks I was leaving for good and not coming back...soooooo he will likely be surprised to see me"

John lets out another chuckle. "He will indeed, won' he." The squirrel starts walking again, shaking his head with a grin. "Don' know what wen' through your mind when y'let him work again, bu' hey, who am I t'say he doesn't have his merits, even if he's, well, Patch?"

Xander chuckles a little for the first time in days "Least he isnt in a horde or like gonna go off and betray anyone, he is...well can't say a good beast but he also isnt like pure evil, in between maybe?"

"Eh, incompetent is th'fancy word I'd use f'that, I would." John responds with hearty laugh. "Though he's got his history o' betraying, don' he? What ever happened after he came t'Redwall th' summer 'offore last, when tha' Ormaz was kickin'?"

Xander says, "I think he avoided him fer the most part"He scans the road, he is always alert when walking and seems to be relaxed fairly well."Ormaz died, then ya...likely know that and after that things were fairly ok..maybe the odd vermin here and there"

John nods. "Aye, aye...I heard o'it all." The squirrel's tail swishes back and forth, and he tilts his head, as if listening, "D'you hear- Eh, never mind it." He looks over this shoulder at Xander, "Say, did I ever tell y'bout this odd hare I met last spring, did I? He were an odd beast, he were, an' went by th'name Hanzi, he did. Told me 'bout th' battle and such, though he put me on edge, he did."

Xander hmmms "The name is..familar, some reason....think he wanted ta like join the Long patrol, I think..."He tries to remember, "Something happen...just not remembering what"

"Huh," The squirrel grunts. "Suppose it doesn' matter much now, does it?" John pauses again, a questioning look upon his face. Raising a paw to shield his eyes from the setting sun, he peers up the road. "Oi, y'seein' tha', are y'?" He mutters, pointing towards were a dust cloud has appeared on the horizon to the north.

Xander studies it,a paw on his blade and a deep breath as he treis to relax, its not always something out to get someone as he nods."Dust...maybe travelers on the road? Some go visit the abbey or just pass through."

John tilts his head to one side, his shoulders relaxing. "Maybe...Eh, perhaps I'm just paranoid, I am." As the squirrel continues walking next to the badger, he gives him a sideways glance. "Did I ever mention how I got so angry at an abbey elder I left Mosfflower for several seasons? Can' say it was the smartest thing I've done, but I've done it, I have."

Xander says, "No..you did disappear a while though and ...well I am learning to try and not worry either..we can becareful and see if friend or foe is coming down the road"

"I've disappeared quite a few times, I have!" John says, with a slight smirk, "Started 'ere you were born too, I did!" At the second half, the squirrel looks back towards the still far off cloud. "Aye, we can be careful..." A beat. "That's a wagon, that is. Why would -" With a curse then falling silent, the squirrel suddenly breaks out into a run, paw o the hilt of his blade to keep it from entangling his legs, rushing towards the cart on the road.

Xander sighs, ok draw his long blade and deep breath as if getting ready to fight possible vermin, he isnt sure but if it is vermin he cant let another friend die and goes to folow John.

Waving like a madbeast, John is too caught up to worry about Xander or potential threats, especially now that he can see the cart has stopped and that theres only one of them. "Oi there!" He calls out, still running, "What in th'hellgates brings y'lot-" having got within sight of the beasts faces, the squirrel starts to stop himself, slowing down at three sullen creatures - two mice and a squirrel - even as they wave at him. "John!" The taller of the two mice calls out, voice shaking. "Bad tidings!"

Xander slows as he sees its friends and walks the rest of the way over "Hey..every beast ok?"

John had heard enough to fill in the blanks by the time Xander makes it. He turns, slowly, his tail down. "No...No they're not." The other squirrel, Raina, gives a small wave to the badger. "What we were telling John here, well." She swallows, before straightening her back. "We were attacked in the night - Myself, Abe here, and Worrick's two young'uns are all that made it through." She says, more to John than Xander. "It was a lizard, it was! I swear, Mr badger, I've never seen such a beast like it! The " Abe, the older mouse, interjected, his voice hoarse. "Killed my own daughter, the monster did..."

Xander frowns "Monitor?..."He asks a little worried, he had seen it but south of the abbey.."Think it...had a tatoo"

"'Twas too dark too see for certain, it was," The mouse replies, shaking his head, "And I never have seen a monitor in me life before that. But I suppose it must be one, what with the claws and teeth he sank into me." Raina adds, "Yes, I didn't get a good look at it, but it was a monitor, leastways judging by the drawings I've seen of them, that is." Throughout this exchange, John has been silent, leaning against the side of the cart. He looks up, his face dark. "When were this?" He demands, harsher than he needs to. "Two nights ago..." Is the response.

Xander says, "the monitor could be anywhere by now John...and if its the same one I think it is, he's a danger to have around"

"Aye," John mutters, arms crossed. "I'm sure he could be. I just..." With another shake of his head, this time as if to clear, the male squirrel pushes himself off the side of cart, looking into the darkening sky. "Never have I heard o' a single beast doin' tha' bloody much, I have!" Paws clenched into fits, he looks first from the mouse, to the squirrel, then the badger. "If this monitor be th'same as yours, then aye, I'd say th'bloody beast's a danger t'have 'round." The mousemaid peeks her head from around the back corner of the cart, having been scared by both the squirrel and badger. John's face softens, and he looks at the surviving beasts of the caravan. "I'm sorry about, well, all this..." He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, "Abe, Raina, I can' begin t'imagine..."

Xander is sielnt, watching John and looking around "We should, get them to the abeby.Least its safe there..and the monitor will be taken care of, it has hurt a couple of my friends, had one captive even till they got away" He has yet to talk to Ferro really, and likely has his reasons not to right now."The monitor will..be stoped one way or another"

Abe offers a hesitant smile to the badger. "Thank you, really, you don't have to, really..." The squirrel matron gives the mouse a long look. "I think they really should, Abe! And of course thank you, Mr. badger - I'm Raina, by the way and this is Abe - the mousemaid around back is Mala, and her little brother's asleep inside." She points to the cart. John had moved away from the cart looking out into the woods. "Aye, one way or another. Methinks I migh' try t'put a bolt in it's hide 'efore killin' it." His teeth are barred.

Xander smiles a litle" Xander Winters..leader of the Mossflower Defenders" He hmms, yes he still is leader"A...small group but fighting beasts still...mostly, do have a healer....and maybe Log-a-Log can help find it."

"Aye, th'famed Guosim." John says with a mirthless laugh. "I always figured they were t'busy screamin' at each other t'notice any o'er beast, they were." The squirrel turns back to face them all. "But what d'I know, eh?" Abe looks Xander over. "I've heard of that group in a few taverns, I have! Really fighting beasts, aren't you?"

Xander asks, "The defenders? Yeah a good group..small but a group dont have to be large really.."He smiles at this "They still defend...I mean look at the Guosim, they have like 7..8 maybe beasts. I helped them a little to get a couple huts ready for coder months""

Speaking of the cold, a chill wind starts up even as the last bit of sun disappears behind the trees. Raina shivers, saying, "Fighting beasts or not, I think it will be cold this winter, I do, moreso than usual, that is." John raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps it will be. Th' defenders do what they can, I suppose, don' they?" The mouse, nodding in response to the badger, says, "I guess they don't have to be large, though I can't imagine that having more beasts wouldn't help..."

Xander says, "First we get you off the road, its getting dark and ...well then it is cold also, hmms..the lizard wont do much in the cold dont think, would he?" He frowns in concern"If its the same one, he is after Krisha...then"He smiles "Shouldnt be worried not like..like she would...."He frowns, yeah she would "Leave the abbey.."He drops to his knees and feels his forehead as a headache starts , a deep breath and exhales, he calms some.

Both the mouse and Raina rush towards Xander as he falls, asking in variations of, "Are you alright?!" As they go to help them, John simply walks over to the badger, looking him over once. "What is it?" He says in a simple tone, guessing at his thought process, "Methinks Krisha will be fine. Specially th' way she's still in charge at th'abbey, she is. I hope th'abbey-beasts won' let her leave, but," he shrugs, "I wouldn' put it past them." He watches the badger for a moment, asking quietly, "Y'think we should head back, do y'?"

Xander takes a few moments to reply and nods "I..I am ok just not ate much past few days is all..."He closes his good eye and opens it again "Yeah...we can go back to the abbey, I can go to Ferravale after brekafast maybe" And eat a good breakfast in fact.

"Aye." John looks back down the road in the twilight. "Suppose we should get started, shan't we?" The squirrel grabs the arms of the cart, beginning to move it. "How far is this Redwall?" Abe asks, looking at Xander. "Mala! We're moving!" Raina calls to the mousemaid, who comes from were she sat drawing with her finger in the dirt. She doesn't say anything as she jumps onto the back of the cart.

Xander says, "Its not that far..."He sighs and goes to move the cart. most of his strength is back "Not far at all" Its not like they made it too far down the road, he is fine with heading back to the abbey, he is a little tried and he wants to help get beasts somwhere safe"And someone can get ahold of Benar, see how long you can stay...or guess ask Krisha right now""

"Hopefully can make it back 'efore they lock th'bloody gates..." John mutters to Xander as they move the cart together. The other squirrel and mouse move in to walk beside them, the latter speaking, "Who is Krisha, if you don't mind me asking?"

Xander replies" The Badgermother, in charge of watching the dibbuns and right now doing a lot of the abbot's duties while he is..resting from an injury he had...he is fine, don't worry just ...fell down some steps"

John gives the badger a glance at the omission, but otherwise doesn't comment. "Oh, how awful..." Raina says, "I hope she's handling it all well..." Abe simply grunts. "He's lucky, he is. Falls are dangerous, and...well," his voice has a sad note to it as he says, "These are dangerous times..."

Xander says, "once the monitor is gone things will be better, lot better and a fall isn't always bad but yeah...it can be and he is lucky, your right."He thinks about Krisha"And Krisha can handle a lot more than one thinks"He smiles "Alot more...she will be fine, just fine and she has her freinds and..."A Pause as the abbey comes into view, "And...she has....me""

Sharing a knowing look between the two, Abe and Raina continue alongside Xander. "Is she very important to you, then?" The latter ventures to ask. John laughs at that, which earns him a glare, but he goes to give a friendly slap on the badger's shoulder. "Aye, I'd say she is, eh? And things'll certainly be better once th' lizards gone, it will..."

Xander nods, "Yeah...and.."Yeah he needs to put the ring back on and he stops by the abbey as he gets something from his pocket, sliping it back on, yes he had it with him cause its important "She is my wife." He gives the gate guard the blade and goes to head inside"I need to find Krisha..." He smiles "And...check on her" And talk, he needs to talk."Oh and..welcome to Redwall Abbey" He then disappears inside the main building.

All three beasts had noticed the badger slipping his ring back on, though none of them say a word. As they enter a few abbey brothers and sisters come out to meet them, helping them unload the cart. The dibbun mouse starts to cry as he is moved, though his sister soon holds him and follows after a kind abbey sister. John, privately thankful his gear is intact, entrusts it back to the abbey guards as he catches Xander's smile. The other squirrel and mouse are too preoccupied with saying their farewells and good nights to the badger and meeting new beasts to see John make his way up the stairs to the wall-top. The lone squirrel makes his way slowly to the north wall, were he rests against the the battlements to gaze out at the woods shrouded in darkness, paws clenched into fists.

Ol'random · Logs

Elbio Hare and Alts wrote:

Maybe list which ones are still alive...so people know Like species...age...name

Fair point - here they are!
Mala
A mousemaid whose father is now dead Worrick Age: around 7 seasons

The mouse dibbun
Mala's little brother. Age: around 2 seasons

Rena
A squirrel; Worrick and her were the leaders of the merchant caravan. Age: Around 17 seasons

Abe
Mala's and the Dibbun's maternal uncle. Age: 19 seasons

Feel free to change details like names and age to one's preference if someone wants them and let me know in-game

Ol'random · Logs

This follows this log and the caravan here is the very same one John has traveled with, as mentioned here and here.

Anwir, the Monitor and various caravan spoofs by me.

Darkness had settled over Mossflower, with most beasts in bed. The pale moon had arisen only recently, judging by how close the sliver half circle was to the horizon. Its reflection danced in the river Moss, as well as the reflection of a campfire. Four carts surround it, and within those carts and close to the fire several beasts are sleeping. The only creature even close to awake was the mouse, Worrick, a heavy-set creature and co-leader of the little caravan. He had taken the squirrel's advice to heart - never sleep till some beast keep watch (though his eyes are drooping). He sits, facing the direction the road is, slumped against a sharpened stick is his makeshift spear.

Anwir was never one to walk along the road, he choose the woods. He was drawn to the camp by the firelight and grinned. He moved on silnet footpaws as he had learned over the seasons how to move. He watches the mouse and has claws out and ready.He walked everr closer...closer...and then...he attacked! Aiming to serious injury or maybe kill the mouse, he had planed to kill someone tonight and failed, seems the mouse won the be the replacement prize maybe.

A squeak then a choking sound ring out, the mouse falling over and desperately trying to lift his weapon - but the monitor's claws had hit Worrick's throat. The spear made a clattering sound as it banged against the cart wheel, and a few of the sleeping figures started to stir, particularly an aged hedgehog. "Eh?" He says, then calls, "Worrick? What is it?"

Anwir hisses as he looks at the hedgehog and narrows his eyes "Pincusionzzzzzzz I ssssssso hate....your quilllszzzzz cause pain."He still has a couple in his arm, but before he likely had a couple dozen..He doenst have his tail but he is still deadly to deal with as he grins, the end of the spear is placed in the fire,"Timezzzzz to wake up!!"Yeah not the best way to wake up with a fire started in one of the wagons, hopefully not one that has beasts in it. He goes to grab the hedgehog by the throat , if he can and slam them into the back of another wagon.

The hedgehog falls back, scrambling away from the lizard, yelling out, "FOEBEAST! FOEBE-" He screams as Anwir's claws sink into him. Meanwhile, the others have stirred - a dibbun mouse started to wail in fright at the monitor lizard. His older brother, the most abled-bodied beast of the group, helps get a middle-aged squirrel matron up. "Mr MacGarran's gear's in the far cart - he left a crossbow!" The squirrel nodded, sparing a glance at the hedgehog. "You'll be alright here?" She asks. The mouse doesn't answer, instead grabbing a burning log from the fire, advancing on the lizard - he hopes to save the old hedgehog it seems. The screaming of both the hedgehog and the two beasts in the now flame engulfed cart can be heard across the river.

Anwir grins , then backs up a little as the log is aimed at him, he hissses "I willzzzzz have choassssss.....I losssst my chanzzzzze ealier...no matter!!" Fire he likes to start, but aimed at him is not so good a thing, and his tail is a little missing to swing the log away.

The young mouse wielding the log is not yet an adult - he is far smaller than the monitor. Henry, the young mouse, spares a glance at the hedgehog who was still struggling, letting out a gasp. "Jack!" He chokes out as the fire spreads to another cart. Tears in eye, the mouse holds the burning log with shaking paws, clearly terrified. At the far side of the camp, the squirrel matron, Raina, had managed to gather the remaining beasts - two mice a maid about a season younger her brother Henry and the screaming mouse dibbun. The others weren't to be seen. Raina fumbled in the cart for the crossbow, pulling it out. "How in the hellgates are you supposed to work this thing?" she hisses, dragging it out.

Anwir grins and swips a claw at the fear filled mouse and chuckles coldly.He then decides to rip the door off one of teh carts and destory the inside, and kill anyone who is unlucky enough to be inside the cart!.The lizard seems to enjoy the chaos, it makes up for his lost at the abbey gates, this oddly calms him, another chuckle.

Henry tries to jump away from the slashing claws, but they catch him and he falls with a yelp backyards into the fire. The hedgehog, Jack, has stopped moving, lying still. The cries of the dibbun mouse grow louder. Within the cart, Anwir finds another hedgehog and several tools for silversmithing. There isn't any room to dodge within the cramped space, and the hedgehog maid is killed with little trouble. A half burned squirrel with an absolutely ridiculous hat still upon his head rolls out of the first burning cart, gasping and clutching at the ground. The squirrel matron has managed to get out bolts for the crossbow now, but is struggling to load it, especially with the shriek from the mousemaid as her brother falls. Two more beasts run from the second cart the monitor had set ablaze, an older mouse and his daughter, both wielding hatchets. "OI! YOU THAR!" They call out, prepping to strike Anwir.

Anwir looks over at the mice as he exits the cart and chuckles....he hisses as it starts to rain! Not a heavy rain but rain all the same! He starts to circle the two with hachets, he chuckles "Thizzzzzz wassssssss fun, butz I grow..bored of thisssssss game."

The younger mouse takes a chance and swings at Anwir with all her might. Her father follows suit - but both their attacks are wild and unaimed. Raina and the other mousemaid had finally managed to load the crossbow. The squirrel raises it, looking for the monitor. The rain did nothing to put out the raging fires but cause more smoke - neither the mousemaid nor the squirrel could catch sight of the lizard.

Anwir hissses as the attack misses and he goes to claw and bite at one of the mice! It does start to rain harder, one of those quick 5 minute downpours in autumn time, then starts to ease a little.

The brief downpour quenches both the camp fire and the second cart, but even the torrent of rain couldn't fully put out the first cart, the beasts trapped inside certainly having perished by now. Smoke bellows from the camp. "Can you see him?!" The mouse maid asks Raina frantically, lining to her little brother who was still wailing. The ax-wielding father fell back screaming as the sharp claws bit his arm and teeth sink into his shoulder. "GER'OFFIM!" His daughter, a wild look in her eye, swings the hatchet at the monitor even more wildly. "Not...yet..." Raina responds to the mouse, scanning the smoke obscured space, her ears picking up the noise of the fight.

Anwir hissses and ends up killing another beast with a laugh and hiss, he backs up from the hatchet and sees...the mouses father as he grins and leaps at him!

The daughter crumples to the ground, throat pierced by swipe of Anwir's claws, and her father's eyes go wide in horror as the monitor leaps at him. Just then, due to a slight shift of the wind and thus the smoke, as well as the still burning cart outlining both lizard and mouse, the squirrel matron finally finds her target. Finger on the crossbow's trigger and one eye closed, she looses the bolt, her aim surprisingly decent. "TAKE THAT!" She can't help but call out into the night.

Anwir hissses as the crossbolt slids across his side as he hissses inpain and stumbles and falls just before he gets to the mouse.Blood drips as he has a large gash, his eyes narrow at the mouse who he lets live as he quickly goes into the woods

Eyes wide and breathing heavily, the wounded mouse rolls over to watch the monitor disappear into the dark. The squirrel and mousemaid rush over to help him, with the latter crying out, "Uncle! Are you...?" The young mouse stops as she sees the body of her cousin, letting out a sob. Raina, for her part, picks up the hatchet from the fallen mouse, ready to strike if the lizard thinks to come back, telling the crying mousemaid, "See if you can't get Abe up and help me check who's still..." She swallows, "...Left..."

By the time the sunrise had risen in the east, the dead had been piled on a pyre, with the black smoke lifting high into the morning sky.
Out of the twelve or so beasts that made up the small caravan, only four remained. Having gathered up all that could be scavenged from the ruined camp and placed it all within one of the two remaining carts, they started their journey south towards Redwall Abbey.

OOC Note: If anyone wants some slightly pre-made NPCs/Alts/Spoofs to 'adopt', feel free to page #mail John to let me know!

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