Quinten Log 37 - 28 01 2006

Western Shore

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Shore ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you shuffle your footpaws in the damp sand, you listen intently to the soft sound of waves lapping against the shore to your left. You sense the salty smell of sea air, and look up at teh enormous mountain just ahead. The mountain appears to be some sort of a strange extinct volcano.

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With:

[DYN] Niveus

[DYN] Not just any old hare... (Darklett)'s a Long Patrol Major!

[DYN] One eyed, Longpatrol Major, Jarril Black Fleetpaw.

[OOC] Ever Angry, it's (Vansinnig)

[ZZZ] Join the Goreharvesters page me (Vulcan)

[IC] Mystery

[DYN] Recruitin' for the Bloodthirsters, it's (Daclon)! Page me!

[ZZZ] New Descy! (Siv)

[ZZZ] Breaden

[ZZZ] Captive (Seven)

[DYN] Wimble

[ZZZ] Scary Squirrel, a BT... (Gnome)

[ZZZ] Scragg

[ZZZ] Silent hunter... (Morpheus)

[ZZZ] Bloodthirsters Bowbeast (Scar)

[IC] Vorth

[DYN] Akakios

Under the gaze of the lightless moon, a strong breeze blows in from far out in the blackness, a patrol moves slowly along the beach, stopping from time to time as Jarril looks up and smiles, turning his head to Darklett. "Right, ya remember the plan, sneak in, get them out. Nothing fancy, wot." The major looks at the small number of hares that are looking a bit different from the others who remain at the back. Holding up his arm, he calls for the patrol to stop. "Okay, their camp is just ahead." Squinting as he see's a yellow tint just above the sand dune.

The vermin camp is silent in the darkness, sentries here and there on the dunes pacing back and forth, bored already with the routine of guarding. One on the southern side of the camp has already fallen asleep, sitting in the sand, his spear still pointing upwards as he snores. A peaceful enough scene, for sure.

Darklett marches on, towards the front of the patrol. As Jarril speaks to him, he notes the other major's smile, and... lacks one of his own. He looks over the patrol, blackberry juice-covered hares. Luckily enough, at least his natural fur color kept him away from such a disguise. "I'm ready, Major," he comments, with a glance up towards the same yellow glow. And another glance behind him, trying to find Niveus in the contingent of hares.

Flare squints to where Jarril points, staying low and hidden. Though pushed a little further to the back due to her duties as a healer, one might say she's still curious about what exactly the prospects are. Making one last nervous check over her inventory, bow, knife, and medical supplies in case of injuries, she glances to the Majors for further orders.

Stone faced and centered on the duty that lay before them, Niveus pauses in line with the assortment of beasts on the excursion. The buck is prepared, pacing his breaths as he awaits the inevitable verdict from the commanding officers to move forward to carry out their dire assignment. His left paw strays from his side, breaking marching order to grip the pommel of his weapon in anxiety. A small smile is given toward the major as he looks back, nodding curtly.

The vermin guards continue to pace, unaware of the hares nearby. A cold breeze mutters above the lapping of waves, making it impossible to hear anything of them, and between the darkness and their stained fur, seeing them is almost impossible as well. A ferret near the hares has begun to whistle softly, laying his spear on the ground so as to fill the pipe he clutches in shivering claws.

Jarril nods and slowly takes out a stone made blade and looks at it. "Right, all those that are sneaking in, come on up front. Keep ya other weapons hidden, I do not wish for them ta sparkle under their camp fires." Turning around. "As for the rest of ya, stay here. If ya hear trouble, then come and help out, same goes if ya see a flame arrow shooting off towards the sea. Got that?" Turning his head to Darklett. "We go in a small group. Just two, then swap after we get one of them out. Ya want ta go in first ta get the first one?" The major waits for any comment from the other major.

Vorth would be within the camp, not on guard duty tonight, lying not far from the camp fire and snoring a bit as he sleeps in the sand, his coat being used as a blanket and his weapons laid out next to himself within easy reach.

You whisper, "Heee hey ya Lord General Vorth" to Vorth.

Darklett also pulls out a specially made dagger, chiseled out of stone. "I'll go in first, and check the place out, and come back with the first hostage." Pulling a folded black cloak that had been wedged into his belt out, he looks back over the patrol, then to the major. "Who's comin' with me?"

On Breaden's side of the camp, tied firmly to a post, is a rather ragged looking white doe. The prisoner is separated from the others, hidden partially by what she's tethered to. She's laying on her side, the arch of her back pressing painfully up against the wood of the post. Her head is angled into the dirt, dried blood causing the line between her nose and snout to fuzz. She appears to be sleeping, small grunts and squeaks of a bad dream causing the doe to stir now and then.

Flare nods to the orders and slowly moves up a little closer to the front in the second line, teeth agrit in nervous anticipation. Rechecking her quiver and glancing at the Major--at least the one that she can discern in the dark.

Niveus breaks ranks with the officer's orders, quickly padding about to reside only a pace or two behind Darklett. As silent as ever, the young soldier once again nods firmly toward the major to answer his query. His weapon remains undrawn, being of a metallic build.

Jarril nods his head at Darklett and Niveus, whispering. "Right, ya two first." He looks at Darklett and whispers again. "Let's not mess this up shall we? Good luck, majah. Ya can do this." The older hare giving the younger one support but he turns his head and looks out towards the dull glow of the camp ahead of them beyond the sand dune.

Flicking his ears at the major's words of 'let's not mess this up,' Darklett looks towards the camp with a bit of apprehension, but shakes his head clear of it. "Ready, Niv?" he asks, glancing up the dune. "...Let's go..." He takes a deep breath, and hunches over, beginning his walk up the dunes, eyes on the sentries.

Shutting his eyes in the midst, Niveus draws and releases a deep breath. The buck is steeled by the knowledge of whom exactly lies within the camp, resolve and nerves being of little concern after such a lucrative reminder. Sweeping his ears back, he gives his answer in the form of tagging along behind the major in a hunkered position.

The sound of whistling is silenced as the ferret places his pipe in his mouth, the burning tobacco illuminating his face slightly. Picking up his spear, the ferret leans against it, loathe to begin moving about and possibly lose some of his smoke.

Flare watches the two figures disappear as faint silhouettes overlap and glances over at her new comrades, unslinging her bow and holding an arrow very loosely notched just in case something very wrong occurs. "Best have a healer and bow-beas' on paw?" she questions softly to one of her comrades who appears to know what he's doing, though loud enough for the Major to overhear.

Darklett's ears perk up, and his head turns to the right as the whistling stops. Holding out his paw to stop Niveus, he waits, squinting into the darkness... The source of the sound is given a glare, before it's judged that he's not looking his way. And on up the dunes he continues, coming close to reaching their summits, nearing the inside of the camp... And halting again to look for sentries once more.

The ferret on duty hasn't noticed the hares going past, simply running a paw through his headfur and turning to begin his monotonous duty once more. The sound of his pawsteps comes close to the hares, then turns away again as he reverses direction.

Niveus remains a purposeful four paces shy of the major, pausing as he pauses and moving as he moves. His attention peels from side to side continuously, keeping a tab on the foebeasts that are visible. The ferret's pipe is sighted well by the buck, thankful for it as he keeps a an eye on its movements through the night.

Jarril keeps a watch before turning around whispering. "Right, who's with me?" He looks at the hares for the one that had been prepared as well beforehand. "If so, come up ta the front please, quietly." Looking at Flare. "Get yaself ready, no doubt they be needing help as well but they're moving whether ya feel they can't or not. If they can't walk, we carry them back." The hare frowns as he turns his head back to the front again, muttering quietly. "Can bet they will come out once they know what's happening." He shakes his head and wonders just how many they can get before they realise what's going on. "Just hope most are asleep..."

Darklett's ears pin back to his head. His paw shoots up, makes a fist, and pumps downward to his side. After he makes the motion, he moves laterally on the dune, to the ferret walking away... Quiet, but swift.

Niveus sights the signal, stopping in place and hunkering down as he awaits further orders from the major. The buck watches in the opposing direction, keeping his attention on what his officer cannot see whilst scaling the dune. For the most part, his vigilance is rewarded with the dull scape of a slumbering camp.

Flare nods to Jarril's suggestions, though this doesn't at all quench her nervousness. Gripping the bow and arrow a little tighter, she glances to the sides not quite ready nor exactly of the build to do anything with carrying a beast across dunes.

A massive marten suddenly lumbers into view in the camp, before plopping down before the prisoner. He mutters faintly at the sleeping hare, taking out a whetstone and slowly sharpening a nasty looking hooked sword. Even from a distance, he can be heard belting out an order for food. He doesn't get it, so he shrugs and looks off into the dunes. Nothing interesting there.

Wimble stirs in her sleep, the bad dream and the sharpening sword sounds pulling her from dream land just enough for an eye to crack. "Mrg ffg?" She mumbles, her back foot twitching as it rubs on a raw spot from sleeping in the sand.

The marten glances over his shoulder, scowling fiercely at the doe. "Shaddup," he growls harshly. "Yer costin' me a good night's sleep, ya know." The whetstone sounds harshly against the steel.

The guard walking away from the hares has begun to hum softly, still puffing at his pipe, unaware of the hare following swiftly behind him. For a moment he pauses, sticking his spear point in the sand and rubbing his paws together. His pipe drops from his mouth, and he sighs, bending over and picking it up.

Darklett comes up behind the ferret who's walking away, still hunkered down so he's mostly out of sight... Before he leaps up, grasps his paw over the ferret's muzzle to silence him, slits his throat with the dagger, and, slipping the spear from the limpened grasp of the hob, he quickly plants it in the sand and shoving the ferret's side onto it, wrapping his arm around the shaft of the polearm... He's obviously dead now, but to every beast in the camp, it looks very convincing that the ferret's simply standing stoic sentry, leaning to rest on his spear.

Blinking at the ferret, the marten furrows his brow, then shrugs. "Grippy's lookin' spry tonight," he growls, holding the sword edge up to the light.

Wimble has to blink a few times, still mulling in the dregs of deep sleep. "Maybe if yah'd shudup..." The doe spits in a tired voice. Her ears flick back, one shorter than the other and coated in makeshift bandages. "Ruddy vermin." Wimble grunts feebly, drifting back into her dreams.

Niveus' ears crane toward the out of place sound in the fairly silent camp, although thinks little of the vermin's distant order other than there being somebeast about whom is awake within the depths. In the midst of a glance toward the major's direction, the propped up ferret is given a look in wonder.

Darklett slinks laterally on the dune again, nearing Niveus. Raising his paw, he extends his fingers, and flicks his wrist forward, motioning to continue up, but he shifts to the left, where the slain sentry 'stands.' As he reaches the peak, he peers over the edge to scout out the camp, squinting to find where the hostages are... There. Spotting several long ears in one place, he motions for Niveus to come look.

( As the ferret is effectively removed from the scene, very little of import occurs in the camp. A young weasel, hardly an adult, has been selected to watch the prisoners, being too young to fight. He's moving about amongst them, dishing out bread and water for all who are awake, which is a very small amount. )

Jarril keeps silent now, wondering on what is going on since Dark and Niv have gone out of his vision. Looking up, there's nothing but the faint stars twinkling in the night sky, some fading away by a few invisible black clouds.

Niveus does as he is ushered, pacing quickly up to join the major at his position. Peering over, the buck sights the contained hares and alerts the major of his sighting with a deft nod.

Wimble sniffs and rolls, retreating back further behind her post. The collar around her neck sits uncomfortably, but the doe ignores it. "An' yer ugly muddah..." Comes a soft insult, though she's fallen asleep by the last word is spoken.

Darklett also sees the on-duty guard of the hares kept captive, and nods to himself. Doing a quick scan of the environment, he looks to Niveus, gulping down. This is it, after all. He raises his paw, looking down the dune. Slowly, as the guard makes his rounds, he starts closing it into a fist, and when it's finally done, and the guard turns away, he extends his fingers again, in the same motion quickly scaling the peak of the dune, and starts to slowly creep downwards.

Vorth grunts a little in his sleep and mutters/growls something like 'I'll skin the lot of you' one eye half opening, his blind eye though so doesn't really matter and it soon sinks closed again.

The only thing that alerts Jarril to Zeraph's position moving silently along to be beside the Major, would be the shifting sands at this action. He keeps low to the ground, though not completely flat, with his ears pinned just in case. Nothing is stated as the officer appears to be trying to get a sighting of Darklett.

Alzon, the weasel in charge of the captives, finishes feeding those awake, and placing food and a small mug of water on his plate, he wanders over to where Wimble is tied, leaving the food where she can reach it and returning slowly to the main group of hares. He rubs tiredness from his eyes, sitting down on a large rock with a sigh.

Checking the sword edge, the marten snarls at the sleeping hare. "I killed me mudder. Didn't like 'er."

Niveus keeps his pace behind the officer in single file, low to the ground and at an agonizingly slow pace. The buck has little else to do, praying inwardly that the situation remains somewhat favorable.

Marlene is crouched around the centre of the group of hares, eyes on the Major and Lieutenant infront, the healers grey fur blending into the darkness, large satchel held tightly at her side containing what field supplies she could bring.

The marten glances down at the food Alzon left, glances at the hare, and quickly stuffs his face. Waving at Azlon, he smirks. "Mmf, nf."

Jarril doesn't move, doesn't even flinch as he looks at the dune in front of him slightly away. Muttering quietly as Zeraph comes next to him. "Hope this works out, won't have another chance for many a night." The major checks on his own stone blade and smiles thinking about something then shrugs that one off. He mutters to himself barely audio-able.. "No.. Not the time, not honourable either..."

Azlon turns around in time to see the marten eating the food, and sighs again, frowning at him. He's not the most popular beast in camp, obviously. Turning away, he adds a few branches to his fire, shifting the tripod resting over it to the side, keeping the food warm while allowing some heat to escape for himself. He's the only beast awake in this part of the camp, with the nearest vermin being in their tents nearby.

Wimble's nose picks up the scent of the food. While the weasel couldn't pull her from her sleep, food sure can. She pushes herself up, groping around in the dark for the food. The process is difficult due to her bound paws. "Hey... wot th'..." She says in the same hushed, yet intense, voice. "Where's mine, flyface?" Wimble hisses at the weasel.

Licking his fingers, the marten smirks at Wimble. "In me stomach, rabbit. Now shuddup an' go to sleep."

Darklett keeps his low position, losing sight of the guard, briefly... And he finds him again, he speeds up his pace just slightly, looking briefly to see if Niveus is following. As he comes to a complete halt, he spots Azlon's resting point... Staying completely still and holding out his paw for Niveus to quit moving, it lowers to his belt... Pulling out a single stone throwing knife. Hopefully, all the accuracy training he'd been doing will pay off, here... Without much of a second thought, he hurls the weapon once Azlon's looking towards the fire, aiming for his upper chest, towards his neck to silence the kill, should it strike true.

Fidgeting with the straps of her satchel the healer Marlene unbuckles it slowly, keeping the buckles face down to the sand so as not to give any chance for the blackened metal buckles to glint. She shifts forwards slightly peering through the night at the camp, hoping whoever they manage to rescue won't be too badly injured, she settles behind the Major chewing on the end of one of her ears nervously.

Niveus stops abruptly as ordered, eyes wide in recognition of the drawn knife. This was it. The buck holds his breath, paw tense about his weapon's hilt in fear of there being a tribulation. As the dagger passes through the air, he can't help but feel as if time stands still, staring in fear and wonder toward the single guardbeast.

Zeraph has settled himself close to the ground, blending in well with the darkness, one paw sinking into the sand purposefully just to feel the cool. The tip of one ear slowly tilting away from his back is the response that he actually heard Jarril, eyes half closed but completely alert still. Both of his ears are pinned completely again as the buck smirks and nods slowly. "Hoping for the best." Comes his very soft response.

Wimble lowers herself, the fact her weight is teetering to the already-weak hare. "Tha'... was /mine/. Yah gut hound!" The hare says, still forced into a whisper by the threat of punishment of waking the camp. She thumps her footpaw in the sand, kicking some up at him in anger. The second she does it, she pulls herself around the post on the opposite side, taking a quick gasp of fear.

The marten snarls, and slashes at Wimble's retreating footpaws. "I dun't see why we can't just kill ya rabbits. It'll leave more food for us."

Azlon leans over to peer in the pot, the brief action saving his life. The dagger hits his ear, tearing a good piece of his ear off. The weasel drops to the ground, not making a sound, either because he's far to scared or because he cannot speak at all.

Jarril looks at Zeraph and shakes his head before moving his gaze back to the dune. "No, was thinking on killing Daclon but decided against it. He's probably surrounded by who knows how many, then again..." The major rubs the sharp end of the stone blade on his chin gently. "He probably sleeps with one eye open anyways, I would ta be honest..." He frowns, not knowing what is going on in there. "Hope they get someone out soon, don't want ta be here when sunrise comes but that's not for another few hours at least."

Wimble feels a slice on her toe, a hiss eking from her mouth. She pulls her bound feet up to her, curling up protectively and trying to find the sleep she has lost. Her stomach churns hungrily, the smell of the bread still in her nose. She doesn't dare respond to the marten.

Marlene shifts forwards until she's level with the Major and peers at him a worried frown on her muzzle, dark eyes catching a glint of the distant firelight "wot are ye standin orders Majah when we get em back? want me to ship em directly back to the mountain? or wait till we got a few and then send em off?" asked in a whisper, ear tip chewing resumed once she has finished whispering

Darklett's jaw loosens open as he sees the knife nearly miss completely. Shocked, and ready to make a run for it, he hesitates... Only for a moment, then he's got the life back in his footpaws. Rushing forward, the major keeps low, his dark natural fur color making it difficult to see him on the moonless night, until right before he leaps, dagger outstretched to run through the downed weasel's throat, again trying to cover the vermin's muzzle to keep him from making any noise.

Zeraph finally pulls his eyes away from the sand in front of him, the blue of them suddenly not looking so dark as usual against his now colored fur. At first he doesn't have a response, just gazing at the Major, then he swallows with a nod again and a scowl. "Aye. You're probably right. Best not to try too much for the moment." But then suddenly Marlene has moved up to be in line with himself and Jarril. He squints silently towards the healer.

Niveus chokes back a gasp as the weasel floors himself, biting his lip as shock coarses through him. The buck could not figure why the beast did not cry out, frozen in indifference until the major's move. The buck follows partly, pausing at the edge of the tent ring to keep a perimeter and out of sight. He looks from side to side, sighting a lack of other guards that brings an undeniable sense of relief to him.

The marten spits at the hare, before looking over at Azlon. "Oy, ya got anymore....Oy! You! Hares! Wake up ya idiots!"

Alzon manages to evade the hare again, though the dagger slashes his face. He stands, slips, and falls to the ground, managing to hold his paws up protectively. He's shaking, still not making any noise. Hoping that if he doesn't, the hare won't kill him, perhaps.

Silent out of both determination to not ruin the mission and sheer fear that that is exactly what's about to happen, Darklett goes for another stab, but noting the youth of the weasel, and the complete and utter fear on his features... He goes for a much more merciful

(and coincidentally, a lot less evadable) forearm to the temple, a sure knockout strike should it hit properly.

Niveus' left paw remains wrapped firmly about the hilt of his longsword, standing by should there be trouble or motion from the major. The brief struggle kept him on the edge, fidgeting fearfully that the entire mission would fall into pieces on behalf of a single weasel.

Jarril hmms. "Ya know, they should've been back by now." He turns to the others. "Wait here, me and Zeraph are going ta take a peek." Nodding to Zeraph, the major gets up silently and moves in his own stealthy style up the dune, keeping his body low.

Someone with really good eyes could just make out something with a thick tail crawling on the dunes towards the area from upshore.

Alzon raises his arm to try and stop the blow, a little too late, and the weasel slumps back in the sand, not unconscious, but certainly unable to move. As his body hits the sand, he faints, from fear and the obvious trauma of almost being killed.

The healer sinks back as the Major begins to move, dropping back and turning to look at the lieutenant to see if he'll answer her question. Otherwise she'll just guess based on the seriousness of injuries.

Zeraph waits until Jarril has shifted before he begins after him, keeping low, slightly to the side and somewhat behind the other buck. It seems that the healer isn't of much thought to him right now as she doesn't get an answer from him either. He keeps a watch out as they slink up the dune.

Sniffing the air, the marten glances over at Wimble. "It smells like you everywhere now. The wind musta shifted."

Wimble cowers up against the pole, trying to contort herself enough to suck on the split pawpad. Her eyes shut tightly, trying to shut out the sound of the marten's voice.

Jarril continues to move up before he looks about with just his head peeking over the top, making silent paw movement for Zeraph to be quiet. Looking over he see's several sleeping or dozing as he moves his head around to search whatever forms near the fires. Sniffing the air, he wrinkles his nose to the smell of cooked seagull.

Darklett lets out a slow, silent sigh of relief as the weasel apparently goes unconscious. Looking up for Niveus, he waves his paw towards him, gesturing towards the hostages, those who are awake's emotions split down the middle between scared and excited. Untucking the black cloak from his belt again, he reaches down to one of the hostages, putting a paw to his lips to silence her, and gets the hare next to her, a young buck who, from the way he was holding her paw, was close to her, up onto his footpaws, wrapping them both in the cloak. Looking to Niveus, he points to another hostage, gesturing a stray from the plans for him to take another hare over the dunes with them. And, crouching low and motioning for the others to do the same, he starts to head towards the dune again, quickly and quietly.

Niveus nods curtly, slipping from his cover along the perimeter tents to join the major in the center. The buck slips about, quickly dipping to lend a paw to a nearby hare and lift them onto the footpaws. Supporting the beast, the soldier begins to amble back toward his officer. There was, however, a certain grip of grimness to him, having not noticed Wimble among the body of prisoners.

Marlene watches the officers slink out of sight, chewing on her ear tip worriedly, this is taking much too long, she glances back and up at the dark silouhette of the mountain in the distance...wishing she'd been able to bring at least another healer...she turns back to the front and leans forwards stretching out ears cocked and listening

Zeraph continues to do what he is instructed, staying as silent as possible. He waits just at the top of the dune, hunkered down low so that he isn't actually looking over into the camp yet. The buck gives an expectant flick of his ears, which is almost an inquisitive movement too.

Another guard joins the marten near Wimble, his paw resting wearily on a short sword and his clothes bespeaking the fact that he had hurriedly dressed. "Mate, ye can go get soom sleep or soomthin' to eat if ye'd loik. Ah'm supposed ta guard the prisnor for awhile."

The marten squints at the other guard. "Oy, who are you? I dun't think I've seen you before." He stands, trying to peer at the face closer.

the healer has turned to look back at one of the hares behind her making a small circling motion with her paw and pointing back at the mountain, the hare nods and begins to pass the message back through the others, the tension in the air almost unbearable as the patrol hares set themselves to move in either direction...

The guard shrugs stiffly, rubbing a paw at his eyes. "I join'd awhile ago. Still new to the band, I am." He shifts the sword slightly so that it rides lower and more comfortably on his hip.

Darklett finally reaches the top of the dune, and almost -shoves- the two hares underneath the cloak over the dune's summit, following quickly behind, and looking over for Niveus and his hostages.

Staring at the guard, he frowns. "Sorry, but I ain't takin' orders from you. But if'n ya want, ya c'n sit down 'ere an' keep me company. The rabbit don't talk much."

Marlene half rises into a crouch trying to decide if to stay or move forwards...she's lost all sign of the officers in charge now...someone should have come back by now..

Jarril nods his head as he looks at Zeraph before nodding for the other hare to come. Slowly the hare slides over the top of the dune just at the same time as Darklett comes over. He only has time to give the other major a approving nod before he is slowly making his way down.

Niveus hobbles along with the pair of liberated does, their state being reasonable as they do most of the walking without aide. Reaching the dune, he ushers them silently forward with a swaying paw, allowing them to ascend to the major and slide down the opposing end of the dune to safety.

The guard shrugs once more, sitting down beside the marten. "Don't min' a bit o' company this late at night. Easier to stay awake, when ye've soombeast to talk to, eh?" He spits into the sand, rubbing his paws together.

Without another word or thought about meddlers, Raph has shifted to move over and then down the dune with his Major. A half smile is given to Dark, if it would be seen or not. The Lieutenant slips down after Jarril.

"Gwah, jus' don't wanna get in trouble wi' Daclon. I don't trust you not ta lie to me, y'see." The marten glances at Wimble, snorting. "I jus' wanna kill it."

Marlene has cautiously began to shift forwards peering upwards, ears turning forwards pickig up the sounds of footfalls on the sand... paw sinking to her sheath, ready to move if needed

Wimble is trembling slightly, partially from pain. The doe is well hidden now, using the very thing that holds her as a buffer between herself and the vermin. She curls up even tighter, tucking her face into the crook of her arm.

Once more, the guard shrugs, standing and walking to where Wimble is, gazing at her curiously. "Ne'er seen one that wasn't tryin' to kill me. This one'd be, if she weren't tied oop, I bet."

Jarril comes to a stop at the bottom of the dune and frowns, moving to the side so that he's behind one of the tents and kneels down, turning his neck back to where Zeraph should be right behind him. Taking out one of the stone blades he takes a very quick look around the tent, ears straining on the sounds of slow breathing.

The marten fingers the blade. "Geh, I wish somethin' would happen. I've been bored silly since those rabbits tried to attack us."

Zeraph lands smoothly on the flat ground at the bottom, having shifted over while he went along the slope so that he easily creeps over towards Jarril getting into a kneel as well.

A glance is sent in the opposite direction than that of the Major's gaze, squinting through the darkness just to cover that way. Now that he is hidden, his ears raise and twitch about, listening.

Darklett turns around, crouching over the dune to watch the other major and Zeraph head into the camp to get the rest of the hostages. Looking to Niveus, he takes a deep breath of relief, and raises his paw in the other direction to get his attention.

Wimble peeks just beyond her furry arm, seeing the beast gazing at her. She sends another kick, aimed at whoever it might be's ankles. Her feet, whether they make contact or not, are quickly drawn back into herself. "Filth." She snarls.

The marten stands up again. "All right, 'at's it. Filth? I'll filth ya. Wi' blood." He swipes at Wimble's side. "Why don't jus' shut up!?"

Marlene Has stopped moving, peering up through the darkness and fingering her dagger hilt, anxiously waiting for something

Jarril makes a paw movement of a sweeping motion, before listening again as he looks around the tent and makes a three countdown with his fingers before heading off to the side quickly. The runner comes to another stop in the darkness as he listens with a frown and then looks about in the direction he thought he saw Darklett come from previously. Only brief sounds of voices comes over the breeze to signal that some are awake but the words have long since been broken up to understand them or who they're from.

( One can just detect a faint whirring on the breeze, most likely the wind whispering in the sand. )

Niveus gazes after the pair of hares who slip in to replace them for a bout, a troubled expression fixed over his features. The buck focuses on the major with the gesture, questioning the indication with a raised brow.

The guard manages to escape being kicked, and keeps a more level head then the marten beside him. "Cool it, mate. Nuthin's been done worth killin' 'er over." His paw snakes out to grab the other's, irritated at his hot-headedness.

Darklett slips backward and stands beside Niveus. Leaning in close, he whispers, "Thought we were done for for a moment, Niv... Good job keepin' it together."

It is a good thing that Raph was actually paying attention to Jarril's movements, because his focus turns back to that direction as the paw movement is made. He tucks his ears against his neck once more, watching the countdown as he readies, then he follows the other buck quickly. One paw rests on his shoulder for a moment, almost as an instinct to his sword hilt being there.

The martin snarls. "I aint' gonna kill her. Jus' cut her up."

Wimble yelps into the sand. A good bit of the gritty stuff finding its' way into her mouth. Still, it's enough to muffle her cry, and thankfully she's cringed enough to escape a deep cut. Her uniform is slit, and a tiny appearance of blood starts to stain the ragged fabric.

"I didn't see 'er," Niveus replies in an equally whispered tone, forgoing an answer in reply to praise to bring the pressing matter to light. "She wasn't there, sah." He repeats, rolling it over within his head to attempt to reason with himself.

Spitting at Wimble, the marten sits himself down. "An' wot's yer name, guard? I ain't gonna call you guard all night."

Not willing to keep still for long, Jarril looks to Zeraph with a frown and then motions for them to move on quietly. Slipping in between another two tents, the major looks about at the camp fire ahead and stops, crouching down as he see's someone stir slightly to scratch their arm but going back motionless again. Turning to face Zeraph he motions for the other hare to follow to the left as he turns his head quickly to some beast inside the tent that makes a loud snorting sound, then silence.

The guard grimaces as the marten performs his random act of violence. Shrugging, he turns away, not really moving from where he already was. "Blackpaw's the name, mate."

Darklett's ears perk. "...Of course she was there," he whispers. "It's just dark, you probably missed her," the major assures the fighter. "You worry too much, Niv." Giving him a pat on the shoulder, he crouches down and peers down into the camp again. It didn't seem like it was taking this long when -he- was down there...

A weasel stirs near Mystery, and get sup, bleary-eyed. He squints at Wimble, Cutter, and Blackpaw. He then makes his way towards them.

Marlene sighs in relief as she sees the escaped hares moving down the dune, she moves in on them, gathering them up and ushering them back amongst the patrol, once she has them at the back she sits them down, issuing out water flasks and checking them over, they seem to be pretty shook up but are all still capable of moving.

Wimble winces at the feeling of spit, her curled figure flinching and retracting. She still says nothing, and does nothing. Whatever's going on is completely oblivious to the doe as she feigns sleep.

Cutter blinks as the weasel stands. "Oy, is Daclon gone ruddy bonkers? How many is 'e gonna send out? You! Weasel, get back to sleep. We don't need no more."

Zeraph seems casually calm enough, though he is actually biting softly at his bottom lip as he observes the sleeping beasts around them. He keeps up with Jarril well enough, and nods to the gesture, just about to move more to the left, when the snort makes him half flinch, ears perking high up. This, he of course, fixes immediately, pinning them again. The officer makes sure no one saw that with a quick surveying glance, before going to start off when he needs to.

Blackpaw rolls his eyes. "Hot-head," he mutters.

Niveus shakes his head from side to side, finding himself growing certain that the doe was not in attendance among the crowd. "Sah, she wasn't there," he insists, swallowing hard as he keeps the whispered tone. "That cat must've taken 'er elsewhere in the camp, she wasn't there!"

Darklett shakes his head in response. "Niv... Hold yourself together, she was there, and she's coming back with Jarril. Don't worry, won't be long before she's back up here." He takes a deep breath, and peers into the camp. "Come -on...-"

The Weasel says, "Why should I go ter sleep? I can be awake if I want. Daclon's the only one as can tell me different." He snarls slightly.

Once the rescued hare's have been watered and fed Marlene has them back on their feet, detailing two hares she sends the lot of them off north, back to Salamandastron and safety, once they are away she begins to make her way back to the base of the dune and begins to crawl up it, heading towards where she thinks the Majah and Niv are.

Jarril can see just where the huddles hares are now being held, most of them are keeping still as he looks back to where Zeraph is and points quickly to where the hares are. Keeping to all fours, Jarril slowly moves forwards, stopping when he hears a sleeping vermin beast twitch or move in their sleep, even the slightest change in the breathing. Slowly he reaches near to where the hares are and he see's one looking back a bit worried. Looking to the left, he see's a sleeping fox twitch an ear before he quickly turns to

Zeraph, pointing to the hares as he makes his way over quickly. Just as the male fox begins to yawn, a paw clasps around quickly to silence any noise as he runs the blade through the neck. Keeping still, the major listens all around him with a frown.

Rolling his eyes, he nudges Blackpaw. "All you people 're jus' annoyin'. I ain't an incomptent fighter or nothin'." He sighs. "Well, c'mon, sit down."

Niveus confides in silence, unable to muster the words to argue the point with the major. He pines over the fact, paws balling up as he runs over the portions of the camp that he and the officer had moved through. The hare glances off to his left, looking down the dunes to where the vermin's tents continue-- unexplored locale.

The weasel does sit down, and says, "Dumb Rabbits. It don anythin' yet?"

Cutter simply stares sourly at the weasel. "I'll tell ya what I tell th' rabbit. Shaddup! I ain't havin' yer yammering mouth in m' ear all day."

Zeraph slowly makes his way forward, making sure that his cloak doesn't brush against any of those sleeping figures that get closer as they start around the fire. The officer hurries up, crawling along silently, to get to the group of hares that are held there. A worried glance is given to Jarril as he deals with the fox, seeming not to dare to breathe.

He goes to rouse get one of the awakened hostages loose, as well as the one beside them. A soft growl of a dozing vermin very close by gets him to hunker down with the other hares, going completely still, until he knows that this creature isn't waking up.

Marlene crawls up the dune until she's just below the Majah, peering up at him she flicks her ears back at the patrol below "aye've sent yer rescued hares back tae tha mountain Majah...anysign oh others yet?"

The weasel says, "But it's nighttime, mate." He then looks around, and gets up, wandering towards the other captives to check up on them.

Jarril slowly lowers the fox down so that it looks like its sleeping with his cloak wrapped about him. Moving forwards, the hare slowly slips past two other vermin as he approaches the group of hares and places a finger to his nose silently. Making quick work of any of the ropes with the stone blade, the major slowly takes his dark cloak out before nodding for some of the hares to enter underneath it. He nods to Zeraph with a warning that they should leave. Carefully he waits for Darklett to get the last hares under his cloak that he's carrying, looking about as he keeps down.

Zeraph nods in that urgent way to Jarril, then he gets the rest of the hares cut from their bonds as he lets them hide beneath the dark cloak, going to usher them through the camp as quietly as ever. The officer casts a worried glance about, just to make sure they have everyone, and that they haven't been spotted.

The weasel cocks his head as he nears the captives. "Ey, what's goin' on? Where's the captives?" He's still bleary eyed, and not that bright.

Jarril looks at the empty space where the hares used to be and moves quickly on, silently as they stop from time to time from any noise coming from within the sleeping camp. Swivelling his ears, the major listens for any signs of life that would threaten them, but moves on quickly towards the dune now ahead of them.

Darkpaw yawns, scratching his head, sleepily. "I'm just gonna sleep. Wake me if anythin' happens."

Cutter growls, before jabbing at him with the point of his hooked sword. "Some guard you are."

Marlene stares at the Major and then over the rim of the dune, peering at the vermin camp worriedly, where are they

Darkpaw yelps as the point pokes his skin. "OY! Are ya stupid or somethin'? Eh? What's the matter wi' you, eh?!" He's basically screaming at Cutter. Then, he lets loose a flurry of heated curses in an equally loud voice, grabbing his side.

The weasel starts running to where the captives were, drawing his sword.

Wimble peeks up, sliding enough to watch them. "Harr, s'righ', fools. Cut each othahs throats." She says in a sneer. The doe pushes her back against the post, ready to watch the entertainment. The doe allows herself a chuckle, despite the pain in her side. She has yet to realize what's going on.

( As Jarril comes near the dune, he almost jumps in relief. "Here they come, get ready to get out of here..." He turns to Marlene. "You, tell them to get ready to get back to the mountain, alright?" )

"Sah," Niveus says in a whisper, acting off the sickening gut feeling that has hold of him. "She wasn't in that main group, she's got to be down there somewhere." The buck points toward the unexplored portion of the camp, shuffling about to slip toward it. "I've got to find her, sah." He says, moving off without a second thought or glance to the officer. His pace is reasonable, moving down the length of the dunes before scaling one and slipping over behind a tent.

Zeraph can hear the yelp and suddenly gets a bad feeling about this. Those hares he is ushering along get urge forward quicker as they are now very close to the dune. However, the officer doesn't dare say anything. The hostages get up the sand hill, towards Marlene. He stops beside Jarril.

Wimble's comment is not well recieved as Darkpaw. "Shut up, rabbit!!" He screeches at the doe at the top of his lungs.

Jarril reaches the bottom of the dune and turns around, muttering quietly to the other captives. "That's right, get up there." The major stays and covers the backs in case anyone should be foolish enough to come their way, listening to the captives make their way up the dune.

Marlene nods and slides down the dune scampering on all fours she hisses commands at the guards, she turns gesturing to the hostages, ushering them before her, "go go" she hisses at them ushering them past the waiting patrol herding them, she reaches out to steady one hare who stumbles and with a curse pulls them over her shoulder lumbering after the captives.

Cutter stands, shushing him. "Oy, shut up! Yer gonna wake the entire camp. Daclon's gonna skin us alive!"

The weasel is foolish enough to come their way.

Wimble's upper lip slides over her teeth. "Rabbit, huh? Why don' yah shut yah own gob, rat?" The doe taunts Darkpaw. "Go runnin' aftah yah friend now. Wouldn't wanna fall bahind, maggot rear." She says with a snort of a laugh.

"Niv," Darklett murmurs without looking. "Don't worry, here Jarril comes, she's with him, Niv. Niv?" He turns his head to the side... No Niveus. He crawls down the dune, and looks among the hares at the bottom... "Niv!?" the voice is still a whisper, but urgent. Oh, he really -did- go... Giving a glance to the top of the dune, then to the hares at the bottom... Darklett shakes his head and makes a run for it, going for the direction he assumes Niveus went, still not peaking the dunes, but nearing the top quickly.

Jarril looks at Zeraph for a moment, then at the hill and see's the last of the hares disappear from the top of the dune. Smiling he whispers to Zeraph. "I say, I know it's rude ta leave a party as it's about ta start but shall we?" The major turns around and begins to move up the dune

Several vermin closest to the yelling blink groggily, before yelling at the two to shut up. That, in turn, wakes others. Slowly, a large part of the camp starts to groggily sit up. Some just lay down, but some get up completely.

Darkpaw aims a kick at Wimble, still holding his side. He's a screamer. "Shut up! Shut up before I gut you! So help me, I'll slit you from stomach to throat!"

Niveus' left paw is capped atop his sword as he rushes in a hunkered position along the backs of the tents, pausing to cast a look down each row in hopes of sighting something of interest. The buck finds it four lengths down, catching sight of the pair of quarreling vermin and the post. He heaves a breath, taking notice of attention shift of the guard as he answers the doe's insult. Although unable to see whom exactly receives the wrath, the soldier paces forward another row and begins to creep toward the trio along the backs of the tents.

Cutter also stares over at Wimble, before reaching for her throat. His eyes are wide with fury. "Shuddup. I thought I all ready told you. Wot kinda idiot are you?"

Zeraph watches as the camp begins to wake up, ears twitching high atop his head as the yelling starts up even more, then he nods. "Seems like a good idea." He states in return, even if the Major has already started up the dune, and he begins quickly up after him, hoping that no one saw them.

The healer and the freed captives along with those hares not waiting on the Major and

Zeraph heading back up the moonless, nigt darkened shoreline, aimed at te mountain, still sat there dark on the horizon, brooding with the odd twinkle of light form an arrow slit window high up the face of the mountain.

Wimble throwing caution to the wind, the doe rears up to the challenge. "Harr! Would yeh, now? Well? M'waitin' yah overgrown tadpole!" She snaps in pure amusement. The doe digs her heels into the sand, trying to prop herself up but to no avail. The weasel gets her easily, allowing a ripping growl from the doe. Her bound feet swing, attempting to catch the weasel in a kick.

Zeraph room-pages, "You mean Blackpaw?".

Jarril not caring now, runs up the whole length of the dune and jumps over it quickly as he makes his way down. What with the noise coming up from behind him he gives an order.

"Alright, we have ta move out now, the whole bally place is starting ta wake up and I don't think they will not notice their guests have left, wot!" Looking at the captive hares, the major frowns. "Any that can't move, carry them. Come on, let's get moving shall we?"

Darklett's ears pick up on some ruckus in the camp. Nonetheless, he peaks over the dune, and crouches down, trying to find where Niveus is... Unable to see him in the lack of light, he slides down the inside of the dune once again, heading towards where they hadn't seen yet, hoping Niveus is somewhere over there, yet keeping an eye out for vermin. Reaching down to his belt, he finds the stone dagger, and takes it out, squinting his eyes in the darkness for Niveus.

Blackpaw stumbles back from the kick, his lip bleeding. He makes a grab for Wimble's neck, his sword raised. "Let's see if wot yer brains look like!"

Hearing the shouts and voice of Wimble, Niveus brandishes his blade with a quick and silent pull. He fights to pace himself, realizing that just beyond a tent length there are two vermin and the doe he so desperately seeks. Swallowing hard, the buck inches himself forward. Abruptly whirling about to face the trio, the buck swings his sword aloft and quickly swipes a diagonal hew toward the beast that holds the blade toward the doe.

Cutter notices Niveus immediately. So, instead of Blackpaw's head, Niveus' blade is interlocked with Cutter's hooked sword. "Oy, where'd you come from?"

On hearing the Major's orders the rest of the hares hanging back start to move off, out of the catpive hares about a third are having to be helped along though at the Majors order they soon find themselves slung over shoulders, strong paws digging into the sand the long patrol starts to beat a retreat.

( As Zeraph leaps over the top of the dune, retreating from the camp, he is already bending to scoop up a younger hare that seems to not be moving so well. The Lieutenant easily gets them in his arms, moving to take off again. He doesn't want to stick around and see what will happen next. "Oh yes, sah." )

Wimble wriggles, trying to gasp for breath, her eyes squint shut on their own accord, the scene before her darkening before she can see her rescuer. The doe simple struggles, making choking noises as her throat is forcibly closed.

Jarril keeps to the rear of the patrol the stone blade now forgotten as he has his sling out ready, nodding to a hare who is next to him, he watches as the tracks are slowly wiped out as they make their way backwards from the camp. Somehow a small grin comes over his face. "What I wouldn't give ta see the looks on those vermin face when they realise all the hares are missing." The major not knowing about the Wimble situation, thinking that she is within the patrol retreating right now.

Blackpaw is forced to drop his sword as he ducks, but he keeps his grip on the doe's neck. "Gonna kill ya."

Niveus isn't exactly interested in words, reaching up to half-sword his weapon and wind clockwise into the beast's hooked sword. Forcing the hilt over Cutter's swordpaw, the buck abruptly drops his weight upon it and attempts to hook his pommel behind it and pull outward to disarm the beast.

Funny Jarril should mention the horde. As they wake up, they start yelling about the captives. The entire camp turns chaotic, the many Bloodthirsters shifting for weapons and screaming madly at each other.

Cutter isn't large for nothing. He keeps his grip on the blade, and throws his own force behind the interlocking blades, pushing harshly against Niveus.

Darklett grits his teeth, his ears raised and his head swiveling about as he looks for any sign of Niveus... He slips towards the tents, brows furrowed, eyes squinted in the darkness... Hearing the 'clank' of metal on metal, and then the raised roar of the captives, Darklett's ears pin back, and his spot behind a tent is no longer that good of a hiding place. He rushes towards the fire, and lo and behold, there is Niveus and Wimble, but with two vermin. Looking down at his stone dagger, he rushes to aid, tossing a stone throwing knife at Cutter's unprotected back, running towards the beast choking Wimble with dagger raised.

Wimble's feet jerk against their bonds, the lack of oxygen closing in. Her head starts swimming and the doe groans, her ears flopping down. With each moment her struggles to get away grow weaker.

The arms of the 'ex-captive' that Zeraph is carrying are hooked securely around the Lieutenant's neck as he hurries along after the main group of hares. His ears flick back to listen for the Major, any orders that may be given perhaps. The fighter kicks in some speed and heads for a larger buck that is close to the back of the front group. "Take her." He calls, trying to give the injured doe over to this other buck.

Niveus steels his hold, keeping the pommel firmly placed behind the beast's swordpaw. Being unable to dislodge the weapon by pulling, the buck attempts the opposite, hopping up with hopes to swiftly deliver a firm kick to the gut of the belly of Cutter.

Marlene drops back until she's running level with the Major the young buck clinging to her neck staring in wide eyed shock as his injured legs is jostled, leaving him whimpering in pain. "Majah...sah...." she pants "We're two missin...." she glances back at where all hell appears to be breaking loose in the form of roarin, "An i don't think well be able tae get back there fer em." she flicks her eyes as the lieutenant catches up watching the larger buck grab the doe and put on an extra spurt of speed tearing ahead.

Jarril keeps a watch at the quickly retreating dune. "Ah there it goes." The major mutters as he hears a roar in the distance. "Well, they know now at least..." Blinking he looks at Zeraph. "Anyways, did ya see what made all that racket over there?"

Cutter gasps sharply as the blade strikes. He's quite distracted by the pain, so Niveus gets quite the kick in. Spitting blood, he does one desperate thing. With a mad rush, he stumbles forward and rears his arm back, before unleashing into a furious punch at Niveus's face. "D-Die..."

Jarril blinks at what Marlene just said and barks out an order. "Stop. I want a quick head count right now!" He turns around and looks at Zeraph with the order pointing to him. "Quickly, let's confirm shall we?"

Blackpaw is quite furious now. With a quick move, he avoids Cutter and Niveus, and lunges forward, trying to slam Wimble's head back into her post, keeping his grip on her throat. All the while he squeezes tighter with single minded determination.

Niveus, having taken control of the beast's weapon, promptly allows it to drop. The buck trails his left leg back, longsword twirling clockwise still within either paw as he places the long length directly in the path of Cutter.

Well, good news that Blackpaw isn't paying attention to him! Darklett raises his dagger further, and then slashes his arm at a furious speed inward, trying to bury the stone blade into Blackpaw's elbow, to force his grip to loosen up on Wimble's throat. This is followed up by another quick attack, a sharp punch to Blackpaw's solar plexus, trying to knock the wind out of the vermin.

Wimble sends a rather weak kick at her choker, her eyes opening only to allow the wall of tears building to pour forth. The mouth opens, making horrible creaking noises as she struggles to get a taste of the air. Her head is slammed firmly into the pole, and from that moment on all the doe see's is black.

Zeraph has stopped as soon as the doe is taken from him, and then a couple of hares move past him when his attention turns to Jarril. "No, sah. Didn't see the source, unfortunately. Though I believe I know the direction it was..." He trails off at the bad news, then he blinks at the order. The Lieutenant gazes after those who have already run off, then his ears flick back. "Yes, sah!" He goes to begin off to do the head count.

Cutter falls into the swords, gasping. Gurgling and spitting blood at Niveus, he simply falls over on the hare, his bulk falling heavily.

slides to a halt and shakes her head "I counted them as they were brought in sah, we're definatly two down" she looks around at the hares strung out running for the mountain still as the lt. hares off to count "I hope i'm wrong sir but i'm sure we were done two."

Blackpaw gasps, the wind quite knocked out of him. His grasp on Wimble's neck loosens slowly, before he throws a swift punch at the side of her head. If he's going to die, he's going to try and take someone with him.

Jarril just stands there looking back to where the camp is and frowns, he turns around to see some of the hares giving some of the freed captives some water before looking at the progress of what Zeraph is up to before returning his gaze back to where the camp is.

The camp is in an uproar, and they suddenly notice Nivues and Dark. The don't walk, they don't run, they surge towards the two, yelling themselves hoarse. However, seeing as all of them are sleep-befuddled, the hares shouldn't have much problem losing them if they move quickly.

Nuh-uh. Darklett's taking Blackpaw -down.- His weight shifts forward, just trying to get the weasel away from the captive runner, the major trying to tackle the vermin to the ground, his dagger coming up to jam into his throat. His ears pick up on the roar, and for a second, he panics.

A bit of a distance away, Zeraph has ran as fast as he can to the front of the group, having them stop. What he is saying isn't made out, but then the buck begins to dart around, pulling hares off to the side as he does, getting them into a line. In this way he makes his path back down the shore. After not too long, he hurries back towards Jarril. "Sah. Two down. Dark and Niveus aren't about."

Wimble's head jerks to the side at the punch, but she's already out, so any damage goes unnoticed by the unconscious hare. She goes completely lip, slipping down towards the sand as Blackpaw's grip goes limper.

Niveus stumbles back as the beast skews himself on the blade, falling flat with Cutter landing soundly onto of him. The hare grimaces, the wind knocked out of him as he struggles to wiggle free of the dead weight. Slipping his strong legs in, the soldier pushes aside the corpse enough to crawl out from under it. On all fours, he rolls the corpse sideways and wrenches free his sword before ambling back onto his footpaws. The doe was his every worry, and with a loud yell he .. stops, just in time before taking a hard slash at the major. Shuffling around the tussle, the buck quickly slaps the connecting rope free from the post and sheathes his blade. Kneeling, Niveus slips his paws behind the doe's head and the crook behind her legs, lifting.

Blackpaw -slams- into the ground under Dark's weight. The dagger finds the throat. He coughs once....and quietly bleeds to death.

Jarril frowns. "Then it's three we're missing then...." He looks to where the camp is and then back to where the others are.." He looks at both things for several times before he sighs. "Darklett can look after himself, he probably had a good excuse..." He turns around. "Alright, let's carry on back to the mountain." Lowering his voice he looks at Zeraph. "My main priority is ta get these back ta the mountain, that's the main mission." Giving one last look behind him, the major sets off with the patrol again.

Eyes darting up to meet the oncoming charge of vermin, he leaves the dagger in the vermin's throat, and turns to run. "Niveus! Outta here!" He looks over his shoulder at the oncoming vermin, and heads towards the dune in front of him, sprinting away from the vermin.

Darklett room-pages, "Basically, we need a bunch of vermin to follow me and Niv to Halyard.".

Marlene shakes her head as the roar grows louder "Dear lords...sah.....we can't go back into that..." she turns as she hears Niveus and Dark are missing, "They were right behind me on tha dune...wot are they up tae..." she she shakers her head and starts running forwards, shouting at the line to move out again, moving to the fore heading for the mountain.

Niveus claims the doe within the cradle of his paw, head straying a look aside and regretting it.. the numerous vermin who'd not decided to trail the main body were closing fast. Thinking fast, the buck kicks out with his leg to a nearby torch basket, knocking the alight flame onto a tent canvass. He didn't need to be told twice, quickly sprinting helter skelter toward the outcropping dunes down shore.

Zeraph scowls at the ground as he looks thoughtful, seeming to calculate something in his mind, before he shakes his head to himself. The officer nods in response to Jarril. "Yes. So we just leave them?" He appears hesitant to move back towards the mountain. Confirming orders and all. :P

Jarril gives a frown at Zeraph. "Ya want ta risk the entire patrol and all the captives we got ta save three hares? If they can get out on their own they can but we have injured here." He moves along before adding quietly. "It's what ya have ta learn when ya take command, 'raph, remember that..."

The patrol is making good time, the sound of te camp fading behind them as they head towards the welcoming light of the mountain, light spilling from the main entrance soon becoming visible.

Zeraph grunts, ears flicking back and he shakes his head again. "No sah. I don't.." Jarril begins off and he sighs, with one last glance given to the camp, and the vermin. He would have stayed alone if it meant he could help. The officer runs after the other buck very quickly.

Doesn't say a word on the way back now, Jarril slowly makes his way right to the front and begins to feel that lonely feeling of being in command and sometimes making those orders that wouldn't be popular. Seeing the mountain loom up closely gives the old hare some hope as he looks about to the captives that are coming back home again. Looking up he smiles and turns to face a young buck being helped. "Soon have ya in a nice warm cot, lad."

A group of hares can be seen hanging about just outside the niche leading inside, waiting anxiously for the patrol, Marlene sprints ahead barking out orders to get them moving, ready to move the wounded inside.

It doesn't take Zeraph long to be with the group again, alongside the wounded, and close to Jarril, though he doesn't say anything to the Major for now. He speaks quietly with another fighter as they walk.

Looking over his shoulder again, he puts on an extra burst of speed, before he passes Niveus... He's carrying Wimble. "...Get to Halyard, Niveus!" he calls out, before breaking out of formation, turning around. "Hey! Vermin!" He sheaths his dagger, and pulls out two throwing knives, hurling them towards two front runners, causing a few of them to trip up. He starts running again, only backwards, two more knives out... He throws them again, causing a bit more disorder... And his last one is removed from his belt. "Faster, Niveus!"

Jarril slowly comes to the niche as he moves to the side, watching the others move past. Leaning on the cold rockface of the mountain he lets out some air which ends up in a whistle. "Finally, something that has come right without a hitch." Looking down at his paws, he chuckles. "Need a bath though, not staying this colour all my bally life."

Marlene is hovering about outside the door waiting for the Major and lieutenant, she salutes "Everyone sbeing taken in ta the infirmaries now sah.....do we send a signal up? to let our missing know?" she catches the end of his complaint about the colour and looks him up and down "Yer look good in purple sah...an we did it we got em"

Darklett room-pages, "I'm talking about how you were like "don't mess up" at the beginning, and you just referred to this as something that went right without a hitch. XD".

Praying that at least a few vermin care more about stoping their makeshift homes turning to ashes, the buck doesn't pause to thank the major for the act of rear guarding. Niveus is slowed by carrying the doe, however all the same, her presence gives the buck a force beyond fear of his own life to prod himself onward. He does struggle upon reaching the dune, fighting his way up until reaching the top and skidding down on his footpaws. Panting audibly, the soldier carries on without a thought to the gripping pain that dominates his lunges and legs.

Jarril looks at Marlene and shakes his head. "No, I will go and report ta a colonel." He pauses for a moment and looks up. "If one is awake mind ya." He slowly turns and walks into the mountain itself.

Marlene looks into the mountain and shakes her head "aye think most everyone is up sir, the amount of noise we're makin in there"

Zeraph lets the fighter go in ahead of him, and he pauses at the niche, ears flicking at Marlene. The buck gives a slight smile, despite and he goes to rub at one of his dyed arms in a subconscious manner. He waits outside for a little while, just leaning on the rock 'wall'.

End of Log -