Post by Glavon on Dec 14, 2009 21:01:07 GMT -6
It was a beautiful winter day. Or at least, it would have been-winter did not submit to making the sea look any nicer. If anything, the waters looked even more deadly, the eerie, howling wind pushing the once calm liquid into huge waves with foamy caps which smacked forcefully against the ice-frozen sand of the beach. In front was an angry ocean and in back, a forbidding, leafless forest. Neither was desirable in the slightest. Every fringe of dune grass was limp, brown or yellow, and dead from the harsh cold of the winter. Although spring may have been coming, the winter was obviously the King of the seasons, owing allegance to none, except the summer, which was indeed far away.
This arrangement did not please the seaside's visitor in the slightest. Takeru Stormston stood at the area where forest met beach, scowling at the waves and shivering at the same time. Her light coat of pale gray fur was not enough to keep out the winter wind; as a result, she was starting to freeze. Her bright, alert ice blue eyes were now a dull, dark stormy blue as the cold made her more tired then usual. Behind the gray ferret was her little 'gang', a group of vermin who followed her because of the fact she was rather famous around Mossflower. Right now, she had four weasels, two rats, two stoats, and a ferret like herself. The reason for no foxes was that she absolutely hated them-they had killed her mother when she was younger and she was still hunting the three who had done it.
Tak flicked her brush-like tail and whirled around to glare at the vermin gathered behind her. One of the rats and all the weasels, along with the two stoats were gone. A rat and the ferret were left, assembling some dry driftwood to make a small fire.
The ferret pushed the driftwood away and began to dig a small hole in the sand. The rat scratched behind his ear with a grimy claw. "What're yew doin', Ren?" the rat asked curiously, watching his companion continue to dig the hole.
Ren the ferret chuckled. "Wind's goin' ta put out de fire, see? If'n we dig a 'ole, den de wind won't be able ta get ta de fire dat easily, matey."
"Dat's a good idea," the rat replied, watching the ferret dig the hole. Suddenly, a black weasel popped out from the trees behind the three, paws laden with wood.
"Heh, winter's allas der best time fer wood. 'Specially 'cause most o' der liddle trees die anyway."
Takeru turned. "Where's the others?"
The weasel turned to her. "De other weasels 'r lookin' thru der forest. Der stoats and de other rat 're farder down de beach, tryin' ta find driftwood."
Takeru nodded and sat down on a log. "All right. You go help these two idiots dig their hole, or whatever." she said irratably. Knowing arguing would be stupid, not to mention dangerous, the weasel knelt down by the rat and ferret.
It was only a few minutes later that the others returned with loads of wood. Soon, the vermin had the frame of the fire set up. The ferret took charge.
"All right, mateys. Yew all sit around dere so de wind doesn't put der fire out."
The vermin complied, and the ferret took a small knife out of his belt and struck a shard of flint with it. Within seconds, the fire had started on the tinder, and when the flames reached the driftwood, they turned blue and green.
Tak looked at the fire curiously.
"Salt makes da flames weird colors." Ren said, poking the wood with a damp stick.
This arrangement did not please the seaside's visitor in the slightest. Takeru Stormston stood at the area where forest met beach, scowling at the waves and shivering at the same time. Her light coat of pale gray fur was not enough to keep out the winter wind; as a result, she was starting to freeze. Her bright, alert ice blue eyes were now a dull, dark stormy blue as the cold made her more tired then usual. Behind the gray ferret was her little 'gang', a group of vermin who followed her because of the fact she was rather famous around Mossflower. Right now, she had four weasels, two rats, two stoats, and a ferret like herself. The reason for no foxes was that she absolutely hated them-they had killed her mother when she was younger and she was still hunting the three who had done it.
Tak flicked her brush-like tail and whirled around to glare at the vermin gathered behind her. One of the rats and all the weasels, along with the two stoats were gone. A rat and the ferret were left, assembling some dry driftwood to make a small fire.
The ferret pushed the driftwood away and began to dig a small hole in the sand. The rat scratched behind his ear with a grimy claw. "What're yew doin', Ren?" the rat asked curiously, watching his companion continue to dig the hole.
Ren the ferret chuckled. "Wind's goin' ta put out de fire, see? If'n we dig a 'ole, den de wind won't be able ta get ta de fire dat easily, matey."
"Dat's a good idea," the rat replied, watching the ferret dig the hole. Suddenly, a black weasel popped out from the trees behind the three, paws laden with wood.
"Heh, winter's allas der best time fer wood. 'Specially 'cause most o' der liddle trees die anyway."
Takeru turned. "Where's the others?"
The weasel turned to her. "De other weasels 'r lookin' thru der forest. Der stoats and de other rat 're farder down de beach, tryin' ta find driftwood."
Takeru nodded and sat down on a log. "All right. You go help these two idiots dig their hole, or whatever." she said irratably. Knowing arguing would be stupid, not to mention dangerous, the weasel knelt down by the rat and ferret.
It was only a few minutes later that the others returned with loads of wood. Soon, the vermin had the frame of the fire set up. The ferret took charge.
"All right, mateys. Yew all sit around dere so de wind doesn't put der fire out."
The vermin complied, and the ferret took a small knife out of his belt and struck a shard of flint with it. Within seconds, the fire had started on the tinder, and when the flames reached the driftwood, they turned blue and green.
Tak looked at the fire curiously.
"Salt makes da flames weird colors." Ren said, poking the wood with a damp stick.