A/N: *GASP* The LAST chapter! *faint*

Chapter 27

The small, bony paws of Miru took the huge, clawed paws of Zurzak and folded them carefully over his chest. In all his days, the pine marten would never have predicted that in a thousand seasons that he would ever do such a tender thing for the wildcat. And yet here he was, arranging Zurzak's broken body in a way so that he was laid out in a noble position on the ground; as if he were a fallen king about to be placed in his tomb. It was all so surreal… so absurd... and yet so fitting.

The young marten found himself doing these things mechanically, and without the slightest apprehension, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing this. Of course, the wildcat had saved his life. And Miru finally realized that Zurzak had never meant him any harm.

Finishing up on positioning the arms, the young marten then arranged the wildcat's robes as best as he could, though they were tattered beyond repair, and covered in mud and blood.

Next, Miru gently ran his paws through Zurzak's headfur, trying his best to smooth it. Odd, how the wildcat didn't seem so frightening anymore. Before, he was demonic and hideous, but now... he looked so peaceful… almost handsome, even.

Sitting back, the marten gave a deep sigh. He had done all he could now for Zurzak. There was nothing more to be done... All except burying him, but there was no way Miru could do that on his own. He would need to find Soilburr, and the other two...

...and Skipper.

Blinking, and feeling as if he had just been pulled out of a bucket of ice-cold water, the pine marten leapt to his feet and whirled about, taking in his surroundings.

He was still at the bottom of the cliff, which rose up in front of him like the abbey walls. Behind him and to the left were rocks and boulders, and beyond them was the lake. None of those ways offered any passage back up to the forest.

On the right, however, was the waterfall, and on the other side of that, the marten could see that the cliff made a gradual descent towards the water. He would be able to get back up by that way. And there looked to be just enough land between the wall and the lake for Miru to walk along towards the incline, which was a blessed thing; he still didn't know how to swim.

But first he would have to cross the area where the waterfall met the rocks.

Giving one last glance at Zurzak's body, the pine marten made his unsteady trek along the area of soaked rocks. The spray from the waterfall irritated his eyes and blinded him, forcing him to travel slowly and get him wet all over. And his habit hadn't even begun to dry from coming out of the river!

Nevertheless, Miru went on, squinting as much as he could and using both paws to feel his way across the slippery rocks. Just as he thought he would never get through, the spray lessened, and he could open his eyes more fully. He had reached the other side of the waterfall.

Heartened by this, Miru then made his way over to the wall of the cliff, noting with some dismay that there wasn't as much ground to walk on as he thought. Shaking off memories of almost drowning in the abbey pond, the pine marten stepped up as close as he could to the wall and inched his way across.

He was about halfway across when-

"Miru?"

Startled, the young marten whipped his head upwards-

-and saw Marok, Rocc, and Soilburr all peering down at him.

"Miru!"

Quickening his pace, the pine marten splashed his way towards the bank and was met by the three abbeybeasts, all of them looking worn and ragged, yet grinning. They helped him climb back up onto solid ground, and promptly pummeled him with questions.

"There you are! Where did you go?"

"Are you alright?"

"Hurr, whoit'm you'm a-doin' doawn thurr?"

"Did the wildcat find you?"

"Did he hurt you?"

"Did you fight him?"

"Is yon woildcat be dead'n?"

"Did you find Skip?"

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?"

But only one thing registered in Miru's mind.

"Skip's not with you?"

That silenced the three abbeybeasts, causing them to exchange suddenly anxious looks.

Suddenly it didn't matter that Miru was back on solid ground, because everything was crashing down around him.

Rasouk couldn't have been happier.

Well, yes, he could have, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he had his father back. Or at least, he had a substitute father now, doubling as a slave. And in some ways, that was better.

Grunting, huffing and puffing, the fox dragged Skipper Rorac amongst the trees as they made their way around the lake. Rasouk still intended to travel south; he heard that the ground was fertile there. He could still force Skipper to farm for them, or at the very least they could steal from some already-established farms.

"It'll be lovely, Skipper," the fox said happily, despite straining under the otter's weight; he also had his satchel and lantern to contend with as well. "Just lovely. You and me, together. Forever. We'll be so happy, just a pair of old bachelors, living the dream. We'll have such fun, finding ways to find food and shelter. We'll tell each other stories, play games, go on adventures together, share a wench or two. You'll never want to go back to your old life, mate, never. No, it'll just be you and me, Skipper Rorac. Just you and me."

Rorac didn't say anything, given that he was still gagged, but he was also struggling to stay conscious. He could barely register what was happening to him now. The only clear thing the otter could think was that he was grateful for being gifted with such a thick skull in order to withstand being hit by both a wall and a rock in the same night.

After a while Rasouk stopped talking, concentrating on carrying his slave to a new life, but within minutes he found he had to stop and take a rest. He let Rorac fall unceremoniously to the ground and leaned against a nearby tree.

"Whew! My, you're certainly a heavy beast, Skipper!" the fox said, wiping the back of his paw against his forehead as he smiled down at the irate otter. "Course you're a lot bigger'n me, mate. It's too bad we don't have a cart or a wheelbarrow to carry you in or..."

As he spoke, Rasouk's eyes roved around the forest, as though he expected a cart or a wheelbarrow to suddenly appear out of thin air to assist him. What he did see, however, was some ways off, back down by the lake. It looked to be a dwelling of some type; a hut... and there, not far away... was that... a boat?

Re-energized by the sight, the fox again slipped his arms up and around Rorac's armpits and dragged him towards the lake, though he was careful to stay out of sight. Laying the otter down more carefully behind a bush, Rasouk then skulked down further, trying to see if he could find whoever dwelt in such a place.

His question was almost immediately answered when a vole wearing a hood came tramping out of the hut, carrying some supplies with one arm while the other held a fishing pole over his shoulder.

Ah, a fisherbeast, the fox thought to himself as he watched the vole ready his boat. Apparently this beast was about to get himself his meals for the rest of the day: the sun was still barely up, a thick mist floating about over the water, and there were fish jumping about, causing several ripples to form here and there in the lake.

But it was the boat that caught the fox's interest the most. Granted, it wasn't a wheelbarrow, but it would still be useful in getting around the lake. In fact, it would be more useful, as it would throw off anybeast who cared enough to come after them. But he better act fast, it looked as though the vole was almost ready to set sail.

Rasouk glanced about, trying to see if he could find a suitable rock to knock his intended victim out. Unfortunately, nothing seemed appropriate for the task. If only he hadn't thrown away that other rock he used on Skipper...

He still had his knife, though...

The vole, arranging rope, tackle, and other such things in his craft, never heard the fox step up behind him.

Wham!

The vole's body slumped forward into his boat after the butt of a dagger was slammed solidly into his skull, only to be hauled out and slung ingloriously to the ground.

"Sorry, mate," Rasouk said before running back and retrieving Skipper, loading the still-bound otter into the boat. "But I need this more'n you at the moment. Hope you understand."

And with that, the conniving fox pushed the boat out into the water and leapt inside alongside Skipper. Setting the oars into their slots, Rasouk began rowing them across the lake, breathing in the fresh morning air deeply, as if the two of them were on a picnic.

"Mmm, ahhh. Nothing like an early morning boat ride, eh, Skipper?" the fox said cheerfully to his captive as he rowed them out further and further into the water.

The otter could only give a soft groan in response, blinking confusedly as he took in his surroundings. Rorac tried to sit up, but could only raise his head and shoulders in order to look out over the lake, as if seeing it for the first time.

Rasouk waved a paw at him, chuckling. "Nah-ah-ah, Skipper. Don't even think about trying to escape now. I've never tried it, but I'll wager it's very hard to swim when you're all tied up like that."

Sighing through his nose, the otter laid himself back down. For a moment, nothing was said or done between the two, aside from Rasouk rowing the boat further and further out. The fox then looked down, and watched as tears began to form in Rorac's eyes. Once a good few minutes had passed, Rasouk contented himself that the boat was far away enough from all shores in order for him to cease rowing for a bit.

Placing the oars inside the boat, the fox made his way carefully over to the otter's side, laying down next to him.

"Shh, shh," Rasouk whispered, tenderly wiping at Rorac's watery eyes. "There's no need for that, Skip. No need for that. You can't go back to your old life anymore, and there's no sense you bein' alone all for the rest of your life. Trust me, you'll be very happy once we get our new life started, I promise. Very happy. That's what my mother always said whenever she spoke about my father coming back. That'd we'd always be very happy very. Very happy…"

Rorac, who made no resistance to the fox rubbing his eyes, felt them growing heavier, his vision darker. His eyelids fluttered for several moments, and then closed; the otter had lost consciousness. But Rasouk did not seem to notice as he continued repeating himself, saying again and again how "very happy" the two of them would be, his golden eyes gazing out at nothing in particular. Then those eyes began to flutter as well. Tail twitching limply, claws raking the otter's belly, the fox slowly but surely succumbed to sleep as well.

For the rest of the morning, the boat floated undisturbed in the water as its passengers slept.

"Isn't there anyway way one of you can pick up his scent?!" a panicked Miru said, searching through every brush, desperately seeking any sign that would show where his Skipper was.

"We've never really had much experience with tracking," said Marok, though that didn't stop him from trying to find a pawprint, or clawmark, or any loose thread that might have belonged to the otter.

"Hurr, moi noser be'm able to'm pick up ee gurt many smells," said Soilburr, who was searching some distance away from the mouse and marten. He tapped his long nose, grinning. "Oi'll be lettin' ee know iffen ee picks up Zurr Skipper's scent."

Miru went back to looking, his eyes darting everywhere. Everything looked the same and yet different at the exact same time, it boggled his mind. He had already told the other three what had happened with Zurzak, even showed them where his body lay, and now they were investing themselves in trying to find Skipper. With no idea of which way to go, Marok did what they had done just after leaving the abbey: place the sword of Martin on the ground, spin it, and go whichever way it pointed.

Miru was doubtful that would be helpful, as it hadn't been so useful before... only... now that the marten thought about it, somehow it seemed as though what had happened last night... was meant to happen. It had at least led to him and Zurzak to where they could have some closure on their past lives. Had it not happened, maybe Zurzak would still be chasing the marten, and Miru would still be running...

But enough of that. All that mattered now was finding Skip.

A rustle from up above caused Miru to look up just as Rocc came jumping down. The squirrel had taken to the treetops in hopes of finding the otter from a high point of view.

Before anybeast could ask him if he had seen anything useful, Rocc said, "There's a fallen beast by the lake a little ways ahead."

Within minutes, the four youngbeasts were standing over a crumbled up form of an old-looking bankvole.

Marok knealt down beside him, shaking the vole a little. "Hello? Are you alright?"

"Oooohhh..."

"He's alive," the mouse said to the other three.

"Of course I'm alive, you idjit!" snapped the vole, his voice half a groan. He tried sitting up, and required assistance from Marok and Rocc. "Alright, which one of you whipper-snappers hit me?"

"We didn't hit you, we found you like this," said Marok.

"Hah!" the vole said, yanking himself free from the mouse and squirrel, only to stumble and be taken up into their arms again. "Uuugh, take me inter the house, take me inter the house..."

As much as he would have liked to help the vole, Miru couldn't help but itch with impatience. They had to find Skipper, they couldn't waste time! Nevertheless, the marten did not want to lose the help of his friends again, and so followed them into the hut. The dwelling was small, but relatively kempt. There were various pieces of fish bones here and there, some cracked plates and bowls, fishing-gear, and a small pile of tattered blankets, on which they deposited the old vole.

"Reach inter there," he commanded, not looking at anybeast in particular, pointing one gnarled paw towards what looked to be a makeshift cabinet. Soilburr, being the closest, opened it and found some poultice.

"Give it 'ere," the vole said. "I need it fer me 'ead."

"Here, I'll-" began Marok, only to be snapped at again.

"Don't touch me!" the vole snarled. Snatching the poultice away from Soilburr, he carefully began applying it to where he had been hit, wincing as he did.

"So what happened?" Marok asked in a businesslike way, crossing his arms. "Who attacked you?"

"If I thought you lot attacked me," the vole said huffily, "then that means I don't know who hit me."

"I know this is a bit forward," said Rocc suddenly. "But we've had a rough night; do you suppose you could spare us some food and water?"

"What does this place look like to you all? Redwall Abbey?" the vole snapped.

"Hurr, we'm only 'elped you when you'm needed 'elp," said Soilburr, stroking his digging claws.

The vole glared at the mole, snorted, and waved an irritated paw. "Be sparing when you eat. I live all alone, and I've got to save up for the winter, an' the cold weather ain't so kindly on my bones these days."

"You could always come and live at the abbey during the winter," said Marok as he, Rocc and Soilburr went about looking for food. "Many creatures do, I'm sure there'll be room for you."

The vole gave another snort, but made no response. He did, however, suddenly take notice of Miru. "What're you doin' 'ere in my hut, vermin?!"

In the blink of an eye, Martin's sword was level with the vole's eyes.

"That's our friend you just insulted," Marok growled.

"Apologize!" snarled Rocc.

"Hurr aye, bain't no callen for that!" put in Soilburr, frowning at the vole.

The vole's demeanor immediately changed. "Oh, er, please, don't take any offense, young ones! I am old, and I've just been knocked on the head, I don't know what I'm saying!"

"It's alright," Miru muttered, speaking to nobeast in particular. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "Have you seen an otter at all day?"

"An otter? No, haven't seen anybeast today, other than you lot," the vole said. Knowing that these four creatures were armed gave him a good reason to have better manners.

"Here," said Rocc, pawing over some fish and berries to Miru. "Gotta keep your strength up if we're ever going to find Skipper."

Knowing this to be true, Miru readily ate the food, though he barely tasted any of it. He also accepted a quick swig from a gourd of fresh water from Soilburr. (The vole watched anxiously as his food and water was consumed, though the four were careful not to eat or drink too much.)

"Well, thank you for the food and the water," said Marok, wiping his mouth. "We really better be going."

The vole nodded, looking as though he'd like nothing more than for the four intruders to leave - until suddenly his eyes widened and he hurtled past them out the door. Marok, Rocc, Soilburr and Miru followed, and found the old vole stamping his footpaws in rage.

"My boat! My boat! They stole my boat! My boat! My boat!"

As Marok stepped forward to try and calm the oldster down, the vole turned on him, screaming, "How can I possibly fish now?! How can I possibly eat?! I can't live off of berries and nuts all winter! I need my fish! But I can't fish for them along the shore; they only stay out in the deep parts of the water! My boat is gone! My boat is gone! My boat is gone!"

"Alright, alright! Calm down, calm down!" said Marok, trying to lay a firm hold on the vole's shoulders.

"You be calm!" the vole shouted. "You can go off and do whatever you like, but I can't-!

"HUSH!" roared Marok, shaking the vole. "We'll find your boat, alright? If not, we'll go back to the abbey and see if we can build you a new boat, see?"

"Hang on," interjected Rocc. "We can't go about replacing boats when we need to find Skip!"

"Of course we'll find Skip," said Marok. "But after we do, we'll help this fellow out."

"No, no, you lot go do whatever it is you need to do," the vole said bad-temperedly. "Don't worry about me; an old vole doesn't deserve the attention of four youngsters like yourselves! I'm not important; I'm only wasting your time!"

Marok was about to lose his patience again when Soilburr spoke up.

"Hurr, Marok, do ee remember tha' one foxy villun, what ee knocked out wiffen sword?"

"Yes?" the mouse nodded, furrowing his brow at the mole.

"Hurr, you'm didn't tie ee fox up. May'ap ee woke up, an' took yon voler's boat?"

Marok blinked, and thought for a moment. "Yes... yes, that is plausible... though we don't know for sure if it was him, or why that would be important."

Soilburr tugged his nose. "Hurr, just an oidea o' mine. Burr arr!"

"Well, either way, we must go." Marok turned back to the still-fuming vole. "Thank you again for the food, and I promise, we will be back to help you, but we can't stay another minute. Now..." the mouse turned back to his friends, ignoring the vole's complaints, when he suddenly realized something.

"Where's Miru?"

Rocc and Soilburr looked about. The pine marten was gone.

"Not again," Rocc groaned.

When Rorac woke up, it was with a much clearer head than he had that morning. Judging from the sun, it had only been an hour or so after sunrise. The otter breathed in deeply, but almost immediately doubled up in pain when he realized that his limbs had fallen asleep from being tied up. To make matters worse, Rorac realized that Rasouk laying right next to him, resting his head on the otter's shoulder and snoring softly.

Trying not to wake the fox, Rorac lifted his head and shoulders as well as he could to get his bearings. To his dismay, the boat they were in was still in the middle of the large lake. They were too far away for anybeast to clearly see them from the shore, and there was no way that Rorac could swim anywhere tied up.

Perhaps he could find some way of cutting his bonds without waking Rasouk up? The otter looked about this way and that in the boat, but couldn't see anything that would offer any service... no wait, was that fishing gear over there in the corner? That would mean hooks... he could get one, and use it to cut the ropes...

Except they were at the other end of the boat. Rorac would have to be extra careful not to wake Rasouk; even though he wasn't sure what exactly the fox would do if he caught the otter trying to escape, he knew it wouldn't be pleasant.

As carefully as he could, the otter tried to ease his shoulder out from under Rasouk's head-

-except the fox mumbled, and his eyes fluttered.

Rorac froze, and just before the fox completely opened his eyes, pretended that he was still asleep. He heard Rasouk yawn and felt him stretch.

"Hhaawwwrrggg, ugghh, oh, that feels better! Nothing like a quick little nap to refresh the senses!"

Next, the otter felt the fox sit up, and heard him take a few careful pawsteps back towards his old spot. Afterwards came the sound of the oars being put in place, followed by faint splashing.

Nothing was said for a while, and Rorac went over his options. Sadly, there weren't many.

He was tied up, unable to break lose, and far away from anybeast's assistance. He could either wait until Rasouk untied him, which seemed unlikely, as the fox had a strange obsession in keeping him as a slave, or he could wait and see if any woodlander might pass by and try to help, which was always possible… or he could just abandon all hope and submit to Rasouk as a willing slave.

That last option made the otter shiver. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with that crazy fox! Hellgates, Rasouk seemed even crazier than before! Maybe getting hit over the head by the sword of Martin hadn't done well for him.

No, the only feasible option the former Skipper had was to wait and see if anybeast might catch sight of a fox dragging a bound otter along through the woods. Surely such a sight would draw attention, and somebeast might come to Rorac's rescue. True, Rasouk had been lucky so far, but Mossflower was a gigantic place, filled with many animals. They'd be bound to pass by somebeast. It wasn't like before, when Zurzak disguised Rorac with a cloak.

The sound of the oars being placed back in the boat brought the otter back to the present. He kept his eyes shut, wondering what was going on now. Had they reached the other side of the lake?

"Made it."

Rorac took the fox's sentence as a "Yes." He felt Rasouk rummaging around on the boat, and carefully opened one eye just a fraction. He saw the fox placing the fishing gear into his haversack, arranging all the things inside to make room, before slinging it over his shoulder. Rorac shut his eye just as Rasouk began to lean over him.

"Wakey, wakey, Skipper," the fox said in a singsong voice, dragging his claws along the otter's brow. Without waiting for a response, Rasouk forced Rorac to sit up, and once again looped his arms under the otter's armpits. Rorac groaned as his still-asleep limbs were dragged out of the boat, his legs and tail dropping limply into the shallows before being pulled up the shore, into the nearby forest.

The otter tried to waken his limbs, but that seemed near impossible with the ropes cutting off his circulation. He looked about as he was dragged along, hoping to see some squirrel or hedgehog or anybeast that would step forward and rescue him.

But there were none. Somehow it seemed as though he and Rasouk were the only beasts left in Mossflower… in the entire world…

Suddenly the otter found himself being dropped unceremoniously back to the ground, almost knocking the wind out of him, while Rasouk leaned against a nearby tree.

"Whew!" said the fox. "Even after all that rest, I don't think I'll be able to carry you all the way down south. Which is sad, because I don't trust you enough to untie you."

Rorac merely closed his eyes and lay there, unable to speak or do anything.

"However," Rasouk said after a moment, "I do seem to recall something… why didn't I think of it sooner? Why, that cat was a genius!"

Rorac opened his eyes and titled his head back in order to look at the fox, who was grinning very broadly with bright eyes.

"It'll be just like the night we went back to the abbey! Your ankles and tail were tied so that you could walk but not run! And you couldn't use your rudder! That's the perfect solution to this! Oh, and I suppose I better get our cloaks out, they'll keep anybeast from realizing that I'm kidnapping you. They'll just think we're two travelling companions – which we are, in a manner of speaking. Silly of me, not to think of any of this sooner, but oh well. No harm done."

As he spoke, Rasouk walked around Rorac and knelt down by his footpaws. The otter felt a sinking dread; the hope of somebeast seeing them was dashed. The fox spoke true, nobeast would suspect anything if they wore their cloaks. Now the only thing Rorac could hope for were a group of bandits, but that would be even worse; he wouldn't be able to defend himself!

But suddenly, a spark of hope flickered in his chest. Rasouk would have to untie his tail and ankles in order to get them the way he wanted. And if he wanted the otter to walk, he would have to rub the life back into them. It would mean Rorac would have only a second or two of a chance to escape, but right now, that was all he needed.

"Mmff mmgggs," the otter said behind his gag.

"Eh?" Rasouk said, looking up.

"Mmff mmgggs," Rorac persisted, trying to wriggle his legs.

For a while, the fox looked at the otter as if he were speaking a different language (which, in a sense, he was). Fortunately, Rasouk soon figured it out.

"Ah, your legs, I see," the fox nodded, smiling. "Have no fear; I realize that they must be a bit worn out from being tied up so long. I'll have them up and walking in a jiffy."

And with that, Rasouk undid the bindings on his captive, and began rubbing the life back into his ankles, though he ignored his rudder.

Rorac thought quickly. As soon as his legs felt better, he would have to kick Rasouk in a good, solid place, jump to his footpaws, and make a dash back to the lake. He could find a rock to cut the ropes on his arms, and then he'd jump into the lake, where the fox could not follow…

…unless he used the boat. But Rorac hoped that he would, because then he, Rorac, could topple the vessel over, and then swim back out of the lake, and make his getaway.

And he better act soon, because Rasouk was already entwining rope around one ankle-

BAM!

The fox went flying backwards, clutching his gut and gasping for breath.

Following through with his plan, the otter leapt to his feet, careful not to trip over the rope still tied to his ankle. Without wasting another second, Rorac sped off in the direction of the lake…

…and could soon hear Rasouk chasing him from behind.

While Marok, Rocc and Soilburr were distracted by the vole's ranting and railing about his precious boat, Miru restlessly tottered on his footpaws.

He didn't have time to listen to this creature, he wanted to find Skipper! But what was just as frustrating was that he had no idea where to look or how to start looking.

Oh, why had Martin's sword pointed them in this direction? Why? It wasn't doing them any good, it wasn't helping them, how could they possibly…?

And then somehow, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to turn away from the group and start walking along the water's edge. Nobeast took notice of him as he did this, and within a surprising amount of time, he was out of sight.

The pine marten didn't know what possessed him to go off all by himself again. It was as if somebeast was acting for him, or at the very least was guiding him away.

Perhaps Martin is lending a helping paw after all… maybe he's leading me to Skipper.

Calmed and heartened by this, Miru picked up the pace and continued walking along around the lake. Maybe there was something on the other side that would give him a clue on where his otter-friend was. And if there was any trouble, well, at least he still had his dagger.

Rorac felt he never ran faster, nor had he ever ran in such a comical condition: arms tied behind his back, a gag around his mouth, and one rope dangling from his ankle, while his tail trailed limply behind.

Nevertheless, it did not tone down the terror he felt at being captured again. Running willy-nilly through the trees, the otter sought to throw off his former captor, changing directions and dodging behind trees and bushes, all the while trying both to not trip over the rope on his leg and to get back to the lake.

Breathing hard through his nose, Rorac suddenly realized he could no longer hear Rasouk behind him. Jumping for cover by a tree, the otter huddled down, straining his ears for any sign of the fox. For a long moment, all was quiet.

Rorac scanned his surroundings, trying to catch sight of his torturer, but not one red hair could be seen amongst the greenery. The otter suddenly realized he was right next to the lake, only not in the exact spot where they left the boat. He had made it to another cliff overlooking the water. Well, no matter. He better get his arms free and jump in before Rasouk came running over.

Rorac looked about for a sharp rock, but could find none that was suitable. Suddenly a thought struck him; he could use the bark of the tree behind him. It would take longer, but at least he wouldn't have to go searching for a decent rock. The otter began rubbing his tied up wrists against the tree when-

Snap!

Rorac froze. Where had that sound come from?

Then there came the abrupt sound of a rock falling… to his right.

The otter turned his head slightly towards that direction-

-and completely missed the sight of Rasouk hurtling towards him from his left.

Tackled to the ground, Rorac tried desperately to fight, kicking with all his might, trying to force his tail to wake up and whack the fox-

-but he began to sob when he felt the rope on his ankle be swiftly entwined around his other, and then his rudder. Within seconds he was securely bound again.

A prisoner again.

His eyes watering with despair, the otter went limp as he was rolled over-

-but gasped in surprise when Rasouk slammed his fist into Rorac's belly with bruising force.

The fox repeated the process, punctuating each punch with a word: "That – wasn't – nice – Skip!"

The otter tried to catch his breath through his nose, unable to do so through his mouth. He tried to stare pleadingly up at his captor. All the fight had left Rorac, he couldn't stand it anymore, he just couldn't…

Finally, Rasouk stopped, breathing hard as he leaned over the former Skipper. For a long while, the fox stared down at the wheezing, gagged otter, his expression blank… until a leering smile formed and he began to lean his face a little closer…

"Get. Off. Of him. NOW."

Rorac, whose eyes had previously closed, opened them again.

Both he and Rasouk slowly looked up to see…

Miru, standing with a dagger drawn.

The pine marten was soaked, ragged, bruised, and cut. He looked as if he had survived a war. But most disturbing of all was how his teeth were bared, and how his eyes were flaming with a murderous lust for blood.

Not like the Miru that Rorac knew.

Rasouk sat up, regarding the marten coolly. "Oh. I recognize y-"

"I said get off him. NOW."

Miru's eyes were like blue steel.

Licking his lips, the fox slowly got up from Rorac's body, stepping away.

The otter was horrifyingly reminded of a very similar previous experience.

"Now get going," Miru commanded Rasouk. "You're going to leave, and me and Skip are going to forget all about you."

The fox regarded his opponent for a moment before chuckling. It was not a nice sound.

"You think just because you've got yourself a shiny little knife there, you can give all the orders?" Rasouk suddenly produced his own dagger, which had been keeping in his belt behind his back. Giving the blade a quick lick, the fox then gestured down at Rorac with it. "This here is my otter, not yours'. I'm afraid you're just going to have to get yourself a new one."

"Like hell," responded Miru, taking on a fighting stance he had seen several warriors take.

Rasouk smirked, and stepped past Rorac, who rolled halfway over, trying to call out a warning to his Miru, but his gag still muffled him.

The two creatures would have ignored the otter even if he hadn't been gagged. Both realized that neither was willing to walk away without Skipper, and that there was only one way to settle this.

Knives drawn, the fox and marten regarded one another. Rasouk was taller, fitter, and could easily tell that he was the more experienced fighter. Miru, however, had grown since he first came to the abbey, and was nowhere near being the frail little fledgling he once was. Not only that, but he felt as mad as he had been when his father was murdered, only this time with more sense.

The fox spun his dagger expertly between his claws, grinning broadly. The marten merely held his steady, keeping it fixated on his opponent.

Suddenly, Rasouk made a dive, roaring and brandishing his knife. More by luck than skill, Miru managed to dodge and to strike the fox first, scoring a lash to his side.

Gasping and snarling in pain and surprise, Rasouk made another dive, just barely missing the marten. The two circled one another, Rasouk chuckling evilly and feinting several jabs with one paw while his other wiped at his bleeding side. Fortunately for him, it was only a flesh wound.

Suddenly the fox made another lunge, and Miru found himself reaching up and grabbing Rasouk's knife-wrist with one paw, while his own knife-wrist was quickly seized by the fox. The two tottered for a while, trying to overpower the other. Miru realized he couldn't beat Rasouk at knife-play, the fox was too good. He would have to get rid of the blades in order to have a fighting chance.

Planting one footpaw as firmly as he could in the ground, Miru kicked his other footpaw into Rasouk's shin with all the force he could muster. Taken by surprise, the fox dropped his knife. But Rasouk had his own tricks; he snapped his jaws at Miru's wrist, forcing the marten to drop his knife too.

Not wanting the fox to get his dagger back, the marten pushed forward with all his might. Rasouk nearly toppled over before pushing back. The two collapsed and were soon rolling around on the ground. Miru kicked both knives away as he sank his claws and teeth into his rival, only to find Rasouk on top of him, grabbing the marten's head and slamming it into the ground.

Miru, fortunately, had already managed to position one footpaw on Rasouk's chest, and kicked up forcefully. The fox lost his grip, and after a second kick, was thrown off the marten and rolled away.

Hastily picking himself up, Miru charged at Rasouk, tackling him into a bush. Rasouk, however, pushed the marten away, and, catching sight of one of the daggers, scrambled on all fours to retrieve it.

Miru grabbed the fox's tail and just barely managed to drag him away, before leaping onto his back and lashing down. Rasouk flailed his arm up and backwards, trying to throw off his opponent, before his ears were seized and he was forced up by them.

The fox kicked back, caught Miru in the shin, they wound up back on the ground, with Rasouk once again on top, striking a solid blow to the marten's face.

Rasouk, thinking he had beaten Miru, got up and turned again to retrieve one of the daggers – only for his tail once again to be seized by his foe. The half-dazed Miru used the fox's brush as a rope to climb back to his feet while Rasouk tried to throw him off again.

The marten latched himself onto the fox's shoulders, and the two were locked in combat again, pushing and pulling, biting and clawing, until Miru was once again pushed forcefully back to the ground. This time, however, Rasouk was also pushed backwards, and landed right next to a small boulder.

Seeing this, the fox got to his knees, picked the rock up, and heaved it over to where the groaning marten lay. He hoisted it up above his head just as Miru looked up, and dropped it the split second the marten hastily rolled out of the way.

Snarling, Rasouk lunged at Miru, who clutched at the fox's throat. The two opponents grappled wildly, tearing each other to shreds. Miru managed to grab both ears on Rasouk's head and shook him madly.

The fox clawed his way for freedom, and they both ended up on the ground yet again – only this time, with Miru on top.

The marten then began pummeling the fox, hitting him again and again with his fists, just barely realizing that he was taking out all his anger and frustration on his opponent, who, taken aback by the savagery of such a frail-looking creature, tried to shield himself from the oncoming blows.

Finally Miru ceased hitting the fox, only to get another grip on his neck. Rasouk, clawing at the marten's face with one paw, used his other to pry off the paw enclosed around his neck, and leaned his muzzle forward to bite it. Miru returned the favor by biting the fox's clawing paw.

Wrenching his paw free, Rasouk gave an almighty shove that thrust Miru away, but the pine marten leapt to his feet again, barely aware of the many wounds he's sustained. He charged again at Rasouk, who was clutching at his bleeding nose as he stumbled to his footpaws.

All this while, Rorac lay there on the ground, horrified and awestruck by what he was seeing. For a good while, all he could do was just lie and watch, but then he began to struggle with his bonds. He had to get free, he had to help his little mate, there was no way he could beat Rasouk on his own!

The otter then realized he could cut his ropes with one of the fallen daggers. All he would have to do is crawl over to one and try to grab it behind his back. Grunting, the otter sat himself up and tried to locate where the knives had fallen. More than once, during the fight, they had been kicked out of the way, and wound up in several different places.

Suddenly one of the blades was kicked in Rorac's general direction, only it landed near the cliff's edge. Desperate to get free, the otter crawled his way over as quickly as he could, and then, turning his back on it, felt around to pick it up.

Meanwhile, the brawling fox and marten were positioned not far from Rorac. Rasouk gave Miru another shove, which sent the marten into the otter…

…who staggered and fell over the edge.

Time seemed to slow down long enough for Miru to turn his head just in time to see the widened eyes of Skipper… and then they were gone, followed by a loud splash.

Miru and Rasouk froze.

Then Miru roared and thundered back towards Rasouk, tackling the fox into a bush, fighting him with a renewed frenzy. Rasouk desperately tried to escape the onslaught, flailing his claws about and kicking upwards, but it only stopped long enough for the marten to pull back his fist and let it fly with all the force he could muster.

WHAM!

The fox's head violently spun, and he fell in a heap, groaning and clutching his nose. Shaking his aching paw and wincing in pain, Miru noticed a small log nearby. Picking it up, the marten brought it down between the fox's ears.

CONK!

Rasouk's eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell over, out cold.

Dropping the log, Miru turned and raced towards the cliff, retrieving his dagger in the process, and jumped off without a second thought for his own safety. As he fell, however, his heart seemed to rise into his throat, causing him to take a deep breath of air-

-and then sooner than he realized, he hit the water, was surrounded by a mass of bubbles, and then was promptly sinking like a rock.

For once the marten was grateful that he didn't float. He never thought he'd ever be so relieved to be sinking.

As he sank deeper and deeper into the cold world of silent, watery blackness, Miru suddenly heard the sounds of muffled groaning. That could only be Skip. Unable to open his eyes in the water, the marten was forced to reach out with one paw, the knife-free one, to find the otter. For a while, he couldn't feel anything…

…and then his paw brushed up against something, and realized he was touching Rorac's handsome face.

Careful not to stab his Skipper, Miru groped his way down and around until he was behind the otter, and felt for the bonds on his wrists. Finding them, he quickly began cutting them with his knife.

But even as he began doing that, the marten realized he didn't have that much time left: he could barely hold his breath any longer! Panicking, Miru cut faster and faster at the ropes… until he felt his body betray him, and his mouth opened, letting his air out… and the world slipped away…

Rorac, however, being able to hold his own breath for much longer, was able to stay awake, and found that the marten had cut the ropes just enough from him to break his arms free. Wiggling his arms, he forced them awake and finally broke the wretched bonds. The otter then snatched up the fallen knife and freed his legs and rudder in one swipe.

And then, taking Miru's body in both paws, Rorac swam the two of them upwards as powerfully as he could, holding the marten up so that his head could break the water first.

After shaking off the bad-tempered bankvole, Marok, Rocc and Soilburr began yet another search for Miru, only this time, thankfully, there had been a faint set of pawprints along parts of the shore, although they lost track of them after a while.

"Where could he have gone?" groaned Rocc. "Why would he just walk off like that?"

"Obviously he wants to find Skip as soon as possible," said Marok.

The three youngbeasts were still by the lake, as that was where the trail ended.

"Well, where do we go next?" Rocc wanted to know.

Suddenly they heard what sounded like a scream off in the distance. A roar, actually.

"Hurr, Oi supposen' we be goin' off in that there direction!"

Without further ado, the three abbeybeasts hurried through the forest towards where they heard the sound, although they didn't see anything… until…

"Look!"

Marok and Soilburr looked to where Rocc was pointing, and saw, to their horror, what looked like Miru falling off a cliff overhanging the lake. They watched, stunned, as the marten's body fell through the air into the water with a loud splash.

Marok wasted no time. Slinging off the sword of Martin and casting it into Soilburr's arms, the mouse ran forward and leapt into the water and swam out. Rocc and Soilburr, not being as good at swimming, hurried down further toward the shore, where they waited anxiously for their friends to come back up.

They waited… and waited…

And finally, suddenly, not one, not two, but three heads came bursting out of the water: Marok, Miru… and Skipper! The otter had a white cloth tied around his mouth, but he was still recognizable.

Giving out glad cries, the squirrel and mole splashed into the shallows as Marok and Skip swam Miru to the shore. They were quite stunned, even horrified, when they saw all the scars that Miru had acquired. They also noted that the pine marten was not conscious…

Pulling the gag down from his mouth to around his neck, Rorac took charge. "Give 'im room, mates. Lay him down gently on the ground."

The three youngbeasts followed the orders, helping to lay Miru down on the dry ground, and stood back as the otter knelt over him.

Just like before, Rorac placed his mouth firmly against Miru's, and breathed in deeply. Next, he placed his large paws on the marten's narrow chest and pressed down firmly three times. He repeated process, each time a little quicker.

Marok, Rocc and Soilburr all watched, expecting Miru to come around just like last time… only… they didn't recall it taking this long…

Rorac breathed out hard, pressed down harder.

C'mon, little mate, come on! You can't be dead, you just saved me, I gotta save you, you gotta live, you can't die, c'mon breathe, mate, breathe! You can't be dead, you can't be dead, you've-got-to-be-alive-now-breathe-BREATHE!

He was about to put his lips over Miru's again when he thought he heard something.

Then he heard it again.

A gurgle.

And then Miru was retching, sitting up, spitting out water, coughing... gasping for air…

For a moment, nobeast moved. Then the pine marten was engulfed by all four of his friends.

Breathing in deeply, Miru reached out a paw and grabbed his Skipper's arm.

"You were going to teach me to ice skate."

"With all due respect, Abbot, you're off yer bleedin' rocker!"

"No offense taken, my son," Abbot Fir said calmly.

"But you're tellin' me not to form a search party when my chieftain, and four of your own charges, are out missing while there's some deranged wildcat on the loose!" cried Streamsleek, waving his paws around.

"I am telling you not to do so because there is no need."

The otter winced, cracked his knuckles, tapped his rudder on the floor of the gatehouse, and said as calmly as he possibly could, "How is there 'no need', Father Abbot? Huh? Just how? I'd love to hear any explanation you can dish out."

"Martin spoke to me-"

"Oh, not another dream, Father! That could've been just one too many trifles, or one ale too many!"

"Do you mean to call me glutton and a drunkard?" The abbot's voice was calm, though there was a slight edge to it.

"I'm sorry, Father, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." the otter trailed off, holding up a paw as he struggled to control his temper. "I'm just trying to say, how could a dream from Martin tell you that there's no need to try and find Skip and the four young uns? Why would he say such a thing?"

"In any other case I would agree with you, Streamsleek, but not this one. Martin came to me in a dream, as I told you, and told me not only the secret that Skipper Rorac has been keeping these past several seasons, but also that there would be no need for any search party to go out and find him and the young ones. He told me that they would return safely to the abbey."

"Aye, and did Martin tell you just when they would turn up?"

"I am afraid he didn't, but he said that he would, and right now, that is good enough for me."

"Well it's not good enough for me!" Streamsleek hollered, slamming his rudder down hard on the floor. "I haven't got time to listen to superstitions-"

"My dear otter, you know very well that Martin is no mere superstition. His spirit has helped many a time during our abbey's history, and I see no reason to stop trusting him now."

Streamsleek sighed, rubbing his temple. "I don't mean to sound disrespectful, Father, but… Skip's out there, he's not in the best of shape, and those youngbeasts… and the sword of Martin is gone…"

"That can only mean that it is in the paws of one of those creatures out there, and that Martin watching over them."

Streamsleek sighed again, and began walking back and forth. "Well, what're we supposed to do, then? Just sit around on our duffs and wait for them all to come back?"

"I suppose so," replied the abbot, who did feel sorry for the otter; he knew Streamsleek to be a beast of action and not one for waiting.

"And how long do you think that'll take, eh? Days? Weeks? Seasons?"

"I am afraid I don't know, my son. Like I said, we can only trust Martin's judgment on this matter."

Streamsleek sighed for a third time, and slumped down on the cot. Looking back up at the old mouse, the otter asked quietly, "So... Skipper's secret... what do you plan on doing about it?"

The old mouse folded his paws into his wide habit sleeves. "I must admit, it was quite a shock when I first learned it. However, I think that is why Martin told me about it last night, so that I would have time to recover and give the matter some rational thought. And I hope that you will have given the matter some rational thought as well?"

Streamsleek buried his face into his paws, rubbing his eyes. "Ahh, it's all just so... I don't know what to think. I suppose if and when I see Skipper again... I'll make my decision then."

"I suppose that's as good an answer I'm going to get at the moment," Abbot Fir said.

For a moment, there was silence. The Streamsleek spoke up.

"Have you told anybeast else?"

"Yes. I told Sister Grace, but I asked her to keep things quiet, and to be ready when Skipper and the youngbeasts return."

Streamsleek nodded, and silence reigned again.

Suddenly there came a loud knocking at the gate.

Exchanging wide-eyed looks, both mouse and otter hurried out of the gatehouse, opened up the door…

…and there stood Marok, holding the sword of Martin, with Rocc, Soilburr, Miru and Skipper Rorac just behind him, each and every one of them soaked, bruised, muddied and scarred.

"Good morning, everybeast," the young mouse smiled. "I hope you didn't wait breakfast for us."

Minutes later, the abbot and Streamsleek were back in the gatehouse with Rorac, Miru, Marok, Rocc and Soilburr. Sister Grace was also there, tending to their wounds and forcing them to drink foul-tasting medicine ("To keep you all from catching some nasty colds!").

Marok, Rocc and Soilburr eagerly recounted last night's adventures, telling all of what they experienced and what Skipper and Miru had told them, taking turns speaking and sometimes interrupting one another.

Rorac sat quietly on the cot that he vacated only the night before, only it felt like a season since he lay down upon it. He was still rather dazed at being back in the abbey so soon after his self-imposed exile, but he knew coming back was the only way to ensure that Miru and the others would get the treatment that they needed. The otter looked down at his little mate, who was seated in his lap, wrapped in a blanket, with one arm sticking out in order to take a firm hold of his Skipper's fur. Throughout the entire trek back home, the marten had refused to let go of the otter.

Abbot Fir sat in an armchair, listening calmly but intently to the three youngbeasts' tale, as was Streamsleek, though the latter kept on stealing a few glances at Rorac.

"And we found the vole's boat and rowed it across the lake and gave it back to him," said Marok.

"He didn't act too grateful, but none of us really cared. We just wanted to get back to the abbey," said Rocc.

"Hurr, Oi sooperly glad we'm back 'ome noaw!" smiled Soilburr.

Realizing that the tale was finished, the abbot sat back with a sigh. "So then. Now we all know everything. The next question is... what shall we do next?"

Almost everybeast's eyes darted in Rorac's direction.

The otter swallowed, and knew it was his turn to speak.

"I left the abbey last night, proclaiming myself an outcast, Father Abbot. I intended never to return to Mossflower for what I had done. And I am still willing to do-"

"No!" Miru clung to his Skipper with an even greater force. "No, you're not leaving me again! If you leave, I'm going with you!"

"And if that's the case, Skipper," said Sister Grace, "then you ought to wait until spring or maybe even summer before you go tramping off to who know's where. Miru needs to stay here during the cold weather. So do these three, as well," she added, gesturing at Marok, Rocc and Soilburr.

"Aye, that means if you leave, Skip, we'll follow you again," said Marok fiercely.

"Absolutely!" said Rocc.

"Hurr, ee surpently will!" chimed in Soilburr.

"That's out of the question," stated the abbot. And just as the three youngbeasts began to shout him down, the old mouse spoke over them, "I'll not have any of you leaving this abbey again, at least not until you have reached adulthood. Therefore, the only way to solve this is to insist that you, Skipper, stay."

The otter sat there, baffled, trying to speak. "I... I..."

"It was an accident, Skip," said Streamsleek, speaking for the first time since his chieftain's return. "You may have killed an innocent youngbeast, but you didn't mean to do it. I know you, Skip, longer than anybeast here. You're not a dangerous beast and you're not a threat to the abbey. You'd never intentionally hurt somebeast. But..."

The whole room suddenly became tense.

"...you still covered up what you did. You still did a whole bunch of other things that are questionable. Let me say my peace," he added when Marok showed signs of interrupting. Turning back to Rorac, he said, "I think the self-imposed exile is too harsh and unfitting for what you have done. You can't leave Mossflower, Skip. You're a part of everybeast here; we wouldn't be full without you.

"However, I still believe you should be punished in some way. That is why... I think you should step down as Skipper."

Everybeast was silent. All eyes were on Rorac.

Finally the otter spoke. "I... I already relinquished my title, so to speak, in placing the title of outcast on myself. Technically, you've been Skipper ever since last night, Streamsleek."

"Well then, there shouldn't be a problem!" said Streamsleek with the slighest of smiles, spreading his paws.

And suddenly, the whole room seemed lighter, and a few creatures managed to laugh.

"Hey wait a minute," said Marok. "This means we have to get used to calling Skip 'Rorac', and Streamsleek 'Skip'!"

"That's right!" cried Rocc, smiling widely.

"Hurr, Oi be'd surpently confuzzled," chuckled Soilburr.

"I don't think I'll get used to being called 'Skip' myself," said Streamsleek. "I think it better suits you," he added to Rorac.

"How about this," said Marok. "We can still call Rorac here 'Skip', but we'll call Streamsleek 'Skipper'?"

"I'm not too sure about that," smiled the abbot. "It might get too confusing."

Streamsleek tested out his new title, "Skipper Streamsleek. That's a bit of a mouth-full."

"Then we'll just have to find you a nickname that distinguishes you from Skip," grinned Marok.

"How about 'Skipper Stream'?" said Rocc.

"Hurr, or Skipper Sleek?" said Soilburr.

"Or how about 'Skippy Sleek'?" grinned Rocc.

"Not a chance, squirrel!" Streamsleek growled playfully.

"Or what about 'Skipper S'?" suggested Marok. "Or better yet, what about 'Triple-S'? After all, your new title has three 'S's in it."

"Well, we'll think of something," smiled Streamsleek.

"Wait."

All turns again turned to Rorac.

"What about all the abbeybeasts? Are we going to tell them too?"

"I think," said Abbot Fir, "that it would be unnecessary to do so. Everybeast here has forgiven you for your actions, but it is quite possible that not everybeast outside will be willing to do so. They might let their fear get the better of them and become uncomfortable, and even question whether we are right in letting you stay at the abbey."

"You're not suggesting we lie to them?" said Rorac, looking horrified.

"Absolutely not. I say that we tell them just what happened: the fox, Rasouk, was in league with the wildcat, and they lured you and Miru outside the abbey, and Marok, Rocc and Soilburr went after you with the sword of Martin. After a terrible night, the wildcat wound up dead, and the fox ran off. Mossflower no longer has any need to fear them anymore.

"And after such a battle, you, Rorac, have grown tired and decided to pass on leadership to Streamsleek. You plan on living out the rest of your days here at the abbey.

"And," the old mouse added before anybeast could say anything else, "should you wish for your story to be told all the same, I suggest you do as Martin the Warrior did. He had a past himself, but kept it very quiet. Nobeast knew about it until well after his death. I think it would be wise for you to do the same, Rorac. Live your life here at Redwall peacefully, do all that you can to be an example to every living creature here. And when you days come to a close, perhaps your friend, Miru, will write about your past, so that future generations may learn an important lesson about forgiveness. And redemption."

Tears spilled forth from Rorac's eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

There was not a dry eye in the gatehouse. Sister Grace pulled out kerchief and dabbed her eyes. Streamsleek wiped his own with the back of his paw, as did Marok, Rocc and Soilburr. Miru buried his face into Rorac's chest. Abbot Fir blinked several times. Nobeast seemed certain of what to say next...

"Zurzak."

All eyes turned to Miru.

"We need to bury Zurzak, the wildcat. His body is still by the lake, we have to go back and bury him-"

"You're in no condition to be going back out," said Sister Grace. "I've got to get you back up to the infirmary, you're in the worst shape out of all of them."

"But Zurzak-"

"We'll make certain he gets buried, mate," said Rorac, giving his marten-friend a reassuring hug.

"I'm afraid I need you to be up in the infirmary as well, Skip. You're in appalling condition too."

"But... but Sister! I've been spending all these weeks in this gatehouse-!"

"And now you'll be spending some time in the infirmary."

"It'll be fine, Skip," smiled Streamsleek. "I'll take care of burying the wildcat. It'll be my first official duty as Skipper. Besides, you get to go back to being treated like a princess," he added with a wink.

"Hah hah," said Rorac.

"Um, Sister? Do we have to be in the infirmary?" Marok asked anxiously, gesturing at himself, Rocc and Soilburr. "I mean, we're the only ones left who know where the wildcat is, we need to show Streamsleek, I mean, the new Skipper, where he lays."

"I think they are in well enough condition to go back out," said Abbot Fir. "But first they will need to get washed up and dried, of course. And get something to eat."

"Um, that reminds me," said Rocc. "We haven't been able to discuss it much, of course, but... Miru, you said you were a prince, right? What happened to your kingdom?"

Everybeast waited for the pine marten to reply, but Rorac said softly, "He's fallen asleep. His grip on my arm has slackened."

"No matter," said the abbot. "We will let him have his sleep. And afterwards, we may question him a bit more about his kingdom, and see what has become of it in the future. But now, I suggest we all go about our duties."

"Right," said Sister Grace in a business-like manner. "Skip, would you carry Miru up to the infirmary? I'll draw you both a nice warm bath. I'll draw you three some baths too, and get you some fresh clothing. I'll also have Friar Tumble prepare you all a good breakfast. Go on, the lot of you," she said, herding the three youngbeasts out before her by flapping her apron at them.

"I'll gather the abbeybeasts and tell them all that has transpired," said the abbot, heading outside as well. "They're all just itching to know, I mustn't torment them any longer."

"When that's done, I'll gather the crew and see about finding that wildcat and digging a grave for him," said Streamsleek. "And, um, Skip..." he added to his former chieftain, who was about to walk out carrying Miru. "What about the fox? Shall we form a search party for him?"

Rorac looked at the new Skipper for a moment, looked away for another moment, and gave his answer. "No. Let him be. I don't ever want to see him again."

After their wounds were cleaned, two wooden tubs were filled with steaming warm water and soap suds for Rorac and Miru. The two had themselves a long, luxurious bath (Rorac comically noting that this was the first time since their reunion that Miru let go of him; the pine marten flicked a few suds at the otter), scrubbing dirt, mud, and dried blood from their pelts. Rorac hummed a little tune as he washed.

When they were done, Rorac, wrapping a towel around himself, hauled himself out of his tub and set about finding some clean clothes for them to wear. He was able to find the very same long nightshirt that Miru had worn during his first days at the abbey, and dug up a loincloth for himself.

"Here you are," the handsome otter said, folding the nightshirt on nearby stool for the marten. "Get out when you're ready. I'll be making up the beds."

By the time Miru came out, he found Rorac being fussed over by Grace, who was applying extra salves and bandages to the otter.

"Goodness me, Skipper Ror- I mean, just Rorac. But I don't think I've ever known another creature who could get himself beat up so badly."

"Oh no?" the otter grinned at the sight of Miru. "Here comes your next victim, Sister."

"Traitor," grinned the pine marten, who made no fight as the motherly hedgehog descended upon him with fresh salves and bandages.

"Alright," said Sister Grace once she had finished. "The two of you get some sleep. I'll wake you both up when dinner is ready. Pleasant dreams." And with that, the kindly hogwife was out the door.

Rorac and Miru shared a small laugh, and the otter gestured at one of the beds he made up - the very same bed that the pine marten slept in last winter.

"Here you are, mate. Better follow the Sister's orders; otherwise she'll force you to drink more tonic."

Miru laughed again (it felt so strange and pleasurable to be doing such a thing after all the events he went through), and made his way over to the bed, where he allowed himself to be tucked in. However, as Rorac began to turn away towards his own bed, the young marten took hold of his arm.

"Back to bein' all clingy, eh?" the otter said with a lopsided smile. Nevertheless, he climbed into bed alongside his little mate. He knew Miru was getting a little old for this, but, at the moment, that didn't matter so much.

Breathing deeply, the pine marten huddled up next to his Skipper, and noticed something over the otter's shoulder. Hanging on the corner of the headboard of the other bed, was slung what looked like the very same white cloth that had served the otter as a gag earlier.

"Why do you still have that?" Miru questioned, pointing at the cloth.

Glancing over his shoulder, Rorac waited a moment before replying. "A reminder."

The marten wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he did have an idea or two.

Sighing, Miru embraced his Skipper and said softly, "Don't ever leave me again, Skip."

Rorac smiled, kissed his little mate on the forehead, and said, "I won't ever have a reason to, mate."

The two creatures fell asleep, but not without a dream or two.

They each dreamt that two beasts stood at the foot of their bed: one a towering wildcat, the other a small squirrel. Both Miru and Rorac knew who each creature was... and yet they felt no longer felt fear or remorse for them. For Zurzak no longer looked like a ravaged, despairing monster, and the squirrel was no longer a starved, haggard shell of a thing. Instead, they were clean, full, handsome, care-for; they looked peaceful, happy, and they both nodded with warm smiles towards the marten and otter, who smiled and nodded back, before the cat and squirrel faded away into nothingness. Yet even as they did, a single voice that seemed to belong to both animals spoke.

"I'm with my family now."

Miru smiled in his sleep and let out his deepest sigh. No longer would he fear Zurzak, or grieve over his past. All of that was behind him now, and ahead of him a clean slate.

Rorac, however, was doomed to have one last nightmare...

The otter looked down at Miru lying next to him... only it wasn't Miru. It was Rasouk...

Meanwhile, hidden in the shadows of Mossflower, not knowing that he was looking up at the exact window where Rorac was, stood Rasouk, the real Rasouk.

The fox could have stood there for a few minutes, a few hours, or even a few seasons. But eventually, he blew a farewell kiss to the closest thing to a father he ever got, and gathered up his belongings, his lantern, cloak, blankets and trinkets, and trotted off into woods, headed south, like he originally planned.

Never to be seen in Mossflower again.