Harmless

[lorki]

Estlin was in mourning, he had been for the past four days. Four days the fallen king had gone without food or water. Four days he'd resided around this small clearing, the surrounding area seemed to have been ravaged by a miniature hurricane. His paws and face were streaked with dried blood, his own blood. He'd torn away his own skin from hours of clawing and biting repeatedly at the brush and near-naked trees around him. Every bit of energy he found he spent on destruction.

The thought of his past had been forced away, he'd torn it out of the tree bark and off the horned bushes. He'd bitten it out of the earth, clawed and beaten it from his very own body, worked until his mind was to tired to drift back to it. He'd starved himself, shed tears till dehydration forced his eyes dry. He would punish the thoughts from himself, sear them away with the burn of fatigue and pain.

Blood matted over the blue rings on his shoulder, an old scar torn wide open again. He lay like a dead beast, curled on his side and breathing out raggedly into the dead forest floor. Blue eyed, dulled, nearly lifeless, opened to the warm spring air. Sunlight dappled his fur from above the trees, a chilled breeze ran over him, in the distance rain clouds lurked. The world moved around him as if he were a part of it, but he was not. He had not been born to live this life. Agony twisted his body around, rolled him sideways and pummeled a fist against the ground.

His breaths turned heavy, he panted from the small effort, his eyes bulged. This was his least favorite feeling, hungry but unable to hunt, angry but unable to fight, alive but wanting to be dead. He was unable to clutch at even the ability to stand. So he lay, as if paralyzed, waiting for energy... or perhaps an archer, to find him.

[Tirael]

"No, that doesn't sound right..." After a moment's thought, Tirael hummed a new version of the same line he had been working on for the past twenty minutes. Trying yet another edit, he sighed irritably, wondering how anybeast had ever managed to compose a full song. Pulling out a small reed flute, he looked around carefully before he began to play quietly. Playing through the song, he perked up when he found he actually liked what he heard. Stowing the flute away happily, he continued walking and scanning the ground for any useful plants.

Pulling himself up and over a fallen tree, he froze as he saw Estlin lying on the floor a few meters away. Instinct was screaming at him to run up and do something about the cat's various wounds; however, his intense distaste for being sliced open kept him where he was. Uncertain of what to do, he gripped the trunk increasingly hard as he tried to think.

Then the trunk shifted.

As his perch gave in to gravity and fell to the ground, the otter braced himself for the sudden stop that forced him off. Scrambling upward in the loam, he reached for his sling, only to find it missing. Dismayed, he remembered he still had his flute, though a hollowed-out reed didn't seem much like a weapon. Maybe enough for a distraction... Tirael thought. Clearing his throat nervously, he said, "Uh...do you need medical help, sir?"

[lorki]

Ears swiveled sideways, aimed towards the small musical noise in the distance. Some beast... it would pass by, he thought, it would not trek into the denser area, it would not find him. Bone and claw pressed uncomfortably into his neck and shoulders. He tossed his head upwards, rolled his neck to relieve the pressure and fell still again. Overhead the tree swayed, sunlight glared into his eyes. He shut them, but without his sight his other senses instantly became sharper.

And otter... it had best not be the one he'd run into before. He could smell it, but then again it must not be a very smart or skilled creature, walking with the wind. The noise brought his attention forward, noise as if he was bout to be squished beneath a tree... or perhaps a projectile otter.

But he was not, and when he opened his eyes his face was already contorted into a snarl. The creature stood before him, it spoke, asked if he needed help. Estlin's reaction teetered between laughter and finding the energy in himself to rear up and slash the otters head from his shoulders. He could say yes... lure the creature close and then kill him. No, Estlin's fast was not over yet. Self control would be in order. Well he could still maim the beast, didn't need to eat it, just tear it up like the bushes and trees around him, pour his rage into it...

No, again he was too tired. And a kill was a horrible thing to waste, as was the wildcats energy. The snarl faded, a small chuckled replaced it, a fanged and dangerous grin.

"Dun need any 'elp, Otta."

[Tirael]

"Dun need any 'elp, Otta."

More than a little surprised by the fact that he was still living, Tirael said blankly, "Huh. Well, excuse me, then..." and walked out of the clearing. Trembling and very confused by what had just happened, he wondered if these weird encounters would end if he just stayed home all day. However, he soon began to feel guilty about leaving Estlin still badly cut up, however dangerous he was to him.

"Sorry, but you really do need some help," he found himself saying a few moments later. He wasn't sure what had driven him back to the little clearing, but he hoped this would be viewed as helpful and not just annoying. He had noticed that certain creatures didn't take well to being annoyed.

[[Bleh, kinda short...]]

[lorki]

"Huh. Well, excuse me, then..."

Odd little creature. Estlin had noticed that most of the beasts about this forest, namely his regular prey, were odd in the same fashion. Too quick to trust, to quick to offer help- One had even seen him drenched in blood (not his own) and feared for him. Of course a smile of bloody fangs did away with that mistake... but hadn't he been the same once? No... the king he was and the fallen dark dwelling killer he'd become were two different souls. Perhaps they both resided in his body, battling maybe? No, surely his former self was deader then his last meal was.

This idea Estlin had cooked up himself, at moments like this when his mind wandered. He'd come to terms with this, at least for the most part. Most days he could reside with his angry soul, his unquenchable anger in his marred body. But some day... some days he did this to himself. All with the intention of driving himself back to being content with a death wish.

Leaves crunched, otter came back. "Sorry, but you really do need some help,"

Gritting his fangs together and growling at the effort the cat tossed his neck upwards so that his bloodied face and light eyes faced the otter. Once the pain of the action faded he managed a small chuckle, his chest rising and falling shortly. "Ach... Otta, I dun need anything. Y'see this?" He flicked a paw up, gesturing shortly to the surrounding area. He took a moment to breath before continuing, "I did tha... I can take care'a me. Trus' me, Otta."

Exhaustion had brought a more docile side to him, after all his violence had been spent so much on the earth around him he hadn't hardly any left. No matter that though, he was disappointed he had been found by this creature- clearly ignorant to who he was or the danger he posed. Another beast -perhaps one with a weapon, perhaps one that could name him- would not have made idle conversation. Was he such a coward that he would lay out his tired body and daydream a beast with revenge on its mind would waltz past? Perhaps he was...

"Y'come from tha' camp. Otta? The one underground?"He realized most of the beasts that dwell there thought themselves safe, thought no one could find them. But not the quiet dark lurker, he could follow any creature there, they came and went so regularly. He could smell them from above ground, especially the newest ones- all sickly and injured slaves from the fort. Their fear wasn't difficult to track... No, Estlin could find any unlucky community.

[Tirael]

"I did tha... I can take care'a me. Trus' me, Otta."

Looking around the clearing,'Otta' noticed the destruction Estlin had wrought for the first time. Ears laid back in terror, he mentally chided himself for willingly going up to someone who could have turned him into otter jerky. Looking at the cat, he felt fear, but also, unexpectedly, he felt pity: pity that such a powerful creature had been reduced to this sallow, worn-out looking thing. Deep down, he knew he wouldn't end up healing Estlin, because however pitiful he seemed, these trees told a different story. How nice for a scout to come back to camp and tell Skipp he no longer had a son, that Tampa no longer had a brother.

"Y'come from tha' camp. Otta? The one underground?"

Tirael's eyes widened, and he almost fell down from the shock. Struggling to get his mind under control, he stuttered, "I--you--how...?" If this cat, a stranger who certainly shouldn't know Camp Moss even existed, did know, then everybeast there could be in mortal danger.

So what was he to do now?

If he was a fighter, he might have killed Estlin then and there to protect the secret. Certainly anybeast capable of the destruction Estlin had created couldn't be trusted...but then, how would he direct his energies? Who was he fighting for? The healer knew that if he ran to go tell a more experienced creature about this, the ca might flee. Not that he would get very far in his condition, but it was still too much of a risk, one that Tirael wasn't sure he should take. Or should he? Putting a paw over his eyes to try and get his thoughts straight, he managed to say, "Uhh...h-how do you know about that?"

[lorki]

"I--you--how...?"

Another stiff laugh thrust itself from the cats pale mouth. The otters terror had him amused, so they did think they were safe down there. How funny. If any of N'tashi's scouts were smart enough, or even half witted enough they would find the place, but then again none of them could keep quiet.

"Uhh...h-how do you know about that?"

"Y'dun think I 'ave eyes, otta?" Estlin smirked. Was he really that good at hiding out? Who had come across the mauled hedgehog's corpse...? he'd left it near the camp weeks ago- a disturbing reminder of his existence. But perhaps it hadn't been a reminder, but a clue. He wouldn't go about mentioning it now, perhaps those dimwitted creatures had never even managed to stumble upon it.

"I've been 'ere fer years. Y'think y'can jus' come an' go- play outside and then glance 'bout a'fore y'go back? Think tha' makes it secret?" Hell, a whole army had marched out of there a while back, to the fort and come home a bit larger. No one expected a forest dwelling creature to notice? But then again, Estlin reminded himself, not many creatures lived outside the safety of that camp. "Y'never thought o' tha'? Really?"

[Tirael]

"I've been 'ere fer years. Y'think y'can jus' come an' go- play outside and then glance 'bout a'fore y'go back? Think tha' makes it secret?"

"Well..." Tirael had no response to that. True, Camp Moss could only be so secret, but he didn't think its location was exactly obvious. If it was really so easy to find as this cat was implying, then N'tashi's soldiers would have marched underground and killed and enslaved at will a long time ago. There would be no more hope in Mossflower, aside from an astonishingly difficult slave-only uprising, and how easy is it to fight when you're a starved, beaten prisoner?

"Y'never thought o' tha'? Really?"

Looking up, the otter said, "Of course we [i[thought[/i] about it! What do you want us to do, pack up and leave Mossflower? Or just dance around the Fort and let him enslave us? It's not the safest spot in the world, but it's safe enough, and we don't exactly have much of a choice!" Slumping against a tree, Tirael dropped his bag and stayed silent for a minute or so. After a sigh, he said somewhat flatly, "So if you know where the Camp is, why did you never come?"

[lorki]

"Of course we thought about it! What do you want us to do, pack up and leave Mossflower? Or just dance around the Fort and let him enslave us? It's not the safest spot in the world, but it's safe enough, and we don't exactly have much of a choice!"

The wildcat raised his brow, surprised at how the otter so quickly took off with the subject and ran with it. He hadn't expected to be lectured. He'd expected to scare the otter off, maybe scare an attack out of him. But the response had him interested all the same.

"Betta off there then no where, huh?" Estlin responded idly, realizing that he was uncomfortable laying awkwardly while having a conversation (now that was something Estlin had not encountered in quite some time!) the cat decided to put his effort into sitting up.

He twisted his body sideways and let out a low long hiss as he planted his paws against the ground and half pulled and half pushed his torso upwards. He let his neck roll back, it cracked loudly before settling forward, face angled towards the otter. He balanced himself, waited for his gaze to steady.

"So if you know where the Camp is, why did you never come?"

"Hah!" The force of the laugh nearly knocked Estlin back to the ground, "Haha! Otta! Really?" The booming laugh took some time to subside to a chuckle, "Otta, heheh... Otta, do I look like a'lil furry kit who needs t'feel safe burrowed ina 'ole an' call mehself a warrior? Why would I need yer camp?" Perhaps the response seemed a bit... much, considering Tirael had no idea how Estlin viewed them, didn't know of his past royalty or the danger he possessed. But Estlin didn't explain himself without prodding, he was glad to be amused by this otter and how he seemed to think of things.

[Tirael]

Tirael almost managed to suppress a shudder as Estlin sat up and looked at him, his savage features a little more than the otter had been prepared for. And yet he still sat with his back against the tree, a few meters away from the cat...how odd.

"Haha! Otta! Really?"

Maybe I shouldn't have asked... Tirael thought as Estlin laughed freely, scaring some far-off bird out of its tree.

"Otta, heheh... Otta, do I look like a'lil furry kit who needs t'feel safe burrowed ina 'ole an' call mehself a warrior? Why would I need yer camp?"

The otter just closed his eyes, shook his head. Estlin seemed like the type who lived alone; how could he possibly understand what the point of all this was? "It's not about the camp, it's about what it protects." Settling a little lower, he continued, "Believe me, if it wasn't necessary, I don't know any of us who would choose to live underground."

His mind drifted to what Redwall could be when it was Redwall again; a place of real peace, where Dibbuns could play outside without their parents worrying they would become slaves, where friends and families could grow their food instead of borrowing from the forest, where life wouldn't be about fighting. And though it seemed odd, Tirael simply longed to live in a place where he could wake up and see the sun out of a window. Living underground felt a little too much like being buried alive...

[lorki]

"It's not about the camp, it's about what it protects." Settling a little lower, he continued, "Believe me, if it wasn't necessary, I don't know any of us who would choose to live underground."

"Hmm.. E'reone likes the sun." He smirked, humbled by the otters lack of reaction- his seriousness over the situation. He paused to think awkwardly about what to say, his own feelings towards a home type situation were deep, this talk could not even come close to stirring them to mind. He had so much to relate to in what Tirael was saying, but the mental block in him left him stranded with nothing in regard to this subject to grasp at.

Not only was he stuck without reference to Tirael's words, he was stuck without reference to Tirael himself. No beast sat down across from Estlin, a mighty king, a vicious exact killing machine, a hungry hunter, and talked. Estlin made cruel jokes with vermin, he toyed with his prey's mind by saying things they'd fear, he antagonized and provoked anyone he wanted to fight with. He did not talk.

But, despite that, here was this otter, sitting calmly across the clearing from him. Estlin could only imagine his own appearance wasn't pretty, blood streaked, gauntlets askew and bone necklaces tilted. How was this encounter even happening? The question would remain unanswered, he brushed it off deciding that the otter clearly did not know of what a power creature he was, did not know Estlin did not speak idly, but killed nonchalantly.

Not now though... his head swam at the very idea of attempting a kill. A conversation would have to suffice. "What'a yew doin' out 'ere on yer own, otta? Don't see many o'yew from the camp, jus' wonderin' 'round... Gotta name?"

[Tirael]

"Hmm.. E'reone likes the sun."

Tirael gave a faint nod, starting to recede into his own thoughts at the same time as Estlin. True, he'd never met a beast that hadn't. Now, though, he was wondering if this cat didn't. His tone certainly made it seem that way, unless he was just indifferent. That seemed more in keeping with what the otter knew of him. That struck him as a little sad, thinking Oh, well he probably just doesn't care. How odd, pitying this creature.

"What'a yew doin' out 'ere on yer own, otta? Don't see many o'yew from the camp, jus' wonderin' 'round... Gotta name?"

"A name?...Tirael." He had paused a moment as he considered giving a fake name, until he realized that he couldn't really be tracked at all by his name anyways. Giving it couldn't hurt. "And I don't really know why I'm out here...I just kind of had to get out. You said it yourself, everyone likes the sun." If Skipp knew why he went out like this, he probably wouldn't let him go all the time. Not that he didn't trust him, but Tirael's little excursions were probably classified as an unnecessary risk.

Well, not unnecessary to him.

"And you?" he asked after a moment. "Do I get to know your name, too?" Fair's fair, he thought to himself...

[lorki]

"And I don't really know why I'm out here...I just kind of had to get out. You said it yourself, everyone likes the sun."

Estlin raised a brow at the otter. He hadn't ever imaged sitting around in a tunnel underground as being stressful enough to warrant vacation time... But of course, he found himself forgetting how weak these creatures could be. How emotional... another ironic thought from the cat who had spent the last four days throwing his own vicious anger through these woods... oh well.

"And you?" he asked after a moment. "Do I get to know your name, too?"

He was quiet for awhile, fearful that his name might stir the otter into action... but they were so oblivious he doubted any connection would be made. Especially by this one, Estlin had noticed he didn't even carry a weapon- rare in the woods. "Estlin Vinsing." He answered calmly, shifting as his head swam dizzily.

Weight pushed on his torn up shoulder causing a slight cringe and movement sideways. He made a clearly displeased face, tilted his head to crack the bones in his good shoulder and neck and returned his glaze to the otter. "Tirael, may I ask... Why sulk 'bout un'erground, jus' waitin' for... well what'er yer waitin' for, when yew coul'da jus' move. Go some'ere else, find a new Redwall er, N'tashi fort er... whate'er?"

[Tirael]

"Estlin Vinsing."

For a moment, Tirael thought the name seemed familiar, but as with so many other fleeting thoughts, it disappeared the moment he actually turned his attention to it. He sighed and let it go; this didn't happen rarely. Probably just little echoes of whatever his life had been before.

Turning his head to watch as Estlin shifted again, he tensed slightly in case the cat had decided conversation time was over. Fortunately, he just seemed uncomfortable, and turned his gaze back to the otter."Tirael, may I ask... Why sulk 'bout un'erground, jus' waitin' for... well what'er yer waitin' for, when yew coul'da jus' move. Go some'ere else, find a new Redwall er, N'tashi fort er... whate'er?"


That caught Tirael off-guard. "We-I-..." He realized then he'd never thought about why it was so important to take Redwall back. Certainly, leaving for a different land and making a new life was possible: he'd heard of other places. Brush had mentioned his home, Southsward, which seemed so idyllic and peaceful. The old records he'd pored through mentioned utopian communities on secluded islands in the ocean. Mossflower wasn't the only place in the world. But then he thought of leaving...it couldn't happen. It wasn't the greatest place in the world, but it was home. The only one he could ever remember having.

"Fort N'tashi is a travesty. Forty years ago, those soldiers' predecessors took the most beautiful home the world had and made it a hell. It's sick. And we would be, too, if we let it stay that way." Closing his eyes, he said quietly, "If you understand how important home can be, you should understand why we can't leave."

[lorki]

Estlin blinked, a distant look seeped over his face. His mind had wandered, pushed off into deeper waters by Tirael's words. But he had just spent such effort forgetting that reaching the point of remembrance was to difficult, expression returned quickly to his face. "Can't say I can relate there, otta... er... Tirael. Whate'er yew see there... well I don't. He patted the beaten ground beside him, "'ere is my home." He smiled, his eyes still somewhat distant.

He was quiet then, paw still tapping quietly against the ground. His attention returned, sparked by curiosity. "If yer right... if yew and yer 'lil band gets tha' Fort an' if e'eryone needs a home, where will all o' them go, the 'orde there?" This community of creatures was so different then any he had ever known. His own way of winning an area he wanted was simple- enter, kill, win. However there was no way these beasts felt the same way.

Would they kill any survivors? Imprison them indefinitely? Let them go? Hell, that is if they even won- and odds didn't seem in their favor. Whoever owned the surprisingly popular block of rock was not Estlin's concern, it was the way they went about it that sparked his curiosity.

Another question struck him, "otta, what started this war between..." he gestured towards the fort and then at Tirael, "...you?"