Freya felt like she’d made stupid decisions one after another to get her to this point. She’d never had to think about taking a life before, nor had she ever had two arrows shot at her. Several promises were made that she would do terrible things to get out of where she was.

She was alone in the wilderness, low on food, and sighting down a cat.

The best she could offer it was a clean hit.

Druids weren’t supposed to kill creatures unless threatened.

She felt threatened.

More than that her entire soul felt tired. There had been far too many revelations in far too short of a time and she was having trouble keeping up with everything.

But one thing at a time. It wasn’t until the cat was close enough that its fall meant a painful death if not a broken back that she decided to hold onto her arrow a little longer.

Then it looked at her and she changed her mind. Such a creature didn’t deserve her attention.

She silently let the arrow pass from her hands, releasing the bowstring to a painful amount of reverberation.

The arrow fell, and Freya winced. She didn't need to wound the cat seriously, just harm it. She needed to get away.

The cat grabbed its arm as one of the claws held on. It wasn’t a deadly wound, but the cat wouldn't be making it any farther.

Freya wondered if this was the time to leave, but then as the cat yelled, she knew.

The unintelligible language hit her like a ton of bricks. He was mad at her! He probably had good reason to be so mad.

"Well if you're going to be like that, I'll take my leave of you."

Freya paused, tracing the weave in her mind before she used her uninjured wing to trace glowing runes in front of herself.

The portal opened up in front of her. Through it, Freya felt rejuvenated.

Though it was completely dark, Freya felt its presence and stepped through.

Her pain lessened on the opposite side. The unnatural darkness in the burrows was a stark contrast to the fires that had been spreading from the manor to the camp.

She caught her breath

Freya found a large rock, judged it suitable, and limped over. There would be plenty of time for her to get well. She might even make it back before the next dance. She hoped that she hadn’t lost a lot of blood.

The rock held a small space where she was able to sit and be surrounded on three sides. True, it meant that she couldn’t run, but either way that would have been an issue. This just gave her a bit more security.

“I think it's time for a rest now," she said to no one in particular before collapsing against the wall.

Chicken Freya sensed her through the bond and then just as quickly as it had before, the bond snapped. Freya was beyond its reach.

The bird knew the direction of travel it needed to move in so it continued onwards. Over the bridge and along the sandy shore, it followed the old trail.

It wasn't until it came upon a large wall and a lot of shouting that it took a second to examine the situation. Weeks of being around mice and other creatures made it understand a bit of what they did.

Ahead of her, several mice were paddling through the water and she drew up. All the mice she had met were prim and proper and would never deign to get wet.

Then she saw their eyes and froze.

None of the mice had eyes like that, those that briefly flicker red. And the smell, if she lived for a thousand summers she wouldn't forget that smell ever. It stank like death.

That was about the time that the three creatures charged her. About the time that she had made up her mind.

Chicken Freya flew up and over two of the mice, narrowly missing snagging the third. The red-eyed mouse rolled to avoid her.

She clucked.

They all turned as one to fight back, but before the last could turn, it was being whipped up into the air, flung like a ragdoll into the stone wall.

The stone wall that ran to the river, that they had swum around, had extended for quite some time and it was only in the far-off distance where the fires were lit that the real wall began.

It teemed with noise as the two Ragamuffins renewed their charge.

The chicken extended both wings flapping hard at them.

They flinched, giving her enough time to snap another one up in its confusion.

Chicken Freya, favored of the Uki ranch, stared down the last of the three determined magical beasts and clucked.

It charged, and the chicken brought its talons to bear, ripping it to pieces.

Woda was fast and Crenshaw was having trouble keeping up with him.

"We have to save as many as we can."

"My granddaughter is out there, she comes first."

"If we don't stop whatever this advance is, then no one ever gets to come first again."

They steered their chickens through crowded streets of onlookers.

A steady stream of creatures had formed a line out of the furrows, taking the main bridge back.

The pair of old mice had wisely not taken the easiest, widest bridge.

"Do you still have some of that explosive stuff?" Woda said, "I have got a feeling that we'll need it, you old mouse."

"Aye, I have more than enough. Do you mean to take down the bridges?"

"If it comes to that."

Crenshaw let his statement hang there in the air, hoping beyond hope that he would be on the right side of the whitewater River if he did destroy the bridges.

"We'll cross that bridge when we decide it's time to blow it up. Plus most of the regiment is on the side we are heading to now."

"Most of the regiment that was guarding the wall, you mean"

Crenshaw had to surrender the point.

"We don't even know what's going on. For all, we know it's nothing."

"It's something. I just know it, Crenshaw."

The mention of his name gave the mouse pause. Woda stuck to nicknames a lot and he always picked the nickname for you, like an overbearing older brother who just knew that he knew best.

They reached the other side of the bridges and immediately the foot traffic increased.

The chickens held on as the two observed the scene in the dark.

"They’re evacuating. Something has to be going on or perhaps they have rung the alarm for some reason."

"This amount of creatures evacuating at this hour is sure to cause a panic," Woda said, "We find our wayward chicken and we find… her."

Crenshaw gritted his teeth and gulped.

"Over there."

Crenshaw gestured to where a chicken was flinging a mouse up into the air, then savagely tore into another with its talons. The feathers looked familiar and the chicken fought with a ferocity that would put even the swordmaster to shame.

"I think that it stopped here for a reason. It might have lost its meaning…"

Crenshaw didn't want to voice a possibility that would destroy his old friend. He needed the mouse in top fighting shape.

More than that, the chickens needed his protection. Though perhaps not chicken Freya. She was doing very well on her own. The fact that she either hadn't or couldn't find Freya could go either way.

They approached her, a gleam still in her eye. Nothing kills three creatures like that without skill.

The two chickens they rode stopped short. When it turned towards the wall, they followed.

"Sweet Miru," Crenshaw said, "are we really following a chicken into battle?"

Muk slashed another one of the beasts in the face. He didn't know where they came from and at this point, he was certain that he didn't care but they were providing a hellish distraction.

With Sergeant Yates at his back, he fought to reclaim parts of the wall. Off to his side, he could see siege weapons being raised by the cats, through their flickering lights. More than once, the cats had fired a ruinous volley of flaming arrows.

The regiment had suffered light losses. The horns still barked a full muster, but the trickle of soldiers had stopped. Many of them had taken up higher positions.

It wasn't until a fox kicked his foe over the top of the wall that Muk realized that something big was coming as well.

The wall, much to the dismay of the people of the furrows, was five mice high. The gate had been locked into the low position and the chain cut so it couldn't be raised. This cut them off from the land to the west as the wall went from one side of the peninsula to the next, wrapping around the water. A cat would have to swim far past roving patrols to make it to the furrows.

For a moment, everything was silent. Muk gave an approving nod to the fox, both quickly cleaning their blades.

Then Muks whiskers raised as he felt the unmistakable feeling of being watched by a large predator.

Muk and the Fox soldier watched in horror as a large beast carried twenty or more cats toward them. The large furry monster looked like someone had given a piece of paper to a mouse pup and told them to draw a cat from memory. Mouse pups of course never really interacted with cats, so their imagination would go wild, possibly producing the thing in front of them right now.

In between the siege engines, a large beast easily towered over the wall. It slowly walked towards them.

Muk knew a fear that he'd never grasped before as he stared in otherworldly horror.

Then off to his right, three chickens flew over the wall carrying both his cursing cousin and Woda Uki.

Chicken Freya, favored of the druid initiate, launched itself over the wall. It was no small occasion for celebration when it landed, spurs digging into the dirt. Behind it, its brothers landed with all the grace and elegance of a mouse pup's drawing of a chicken.

Which is to say that both Woda and Crenshaw barely held on with their lives.

"Bring those arrows out. We're hunting whatever that thing is," Woda said, his one hand outstretched with his sword.

"You want the explosive-tipped ones?"

"Of course! A mouse loves a good explosion. Just keep it away from me. We're covering this one here while she does the raven's work."

Crenshaw had to think for a minute about which Raven he meant.

The three chickens and two riding mice rushed to the wall and following their lead chicken, took flight for a brief moment.

Muk looked up to see three large white beasts launching themselves in formation over his walls.

He saw the glint in his cousin's eye as they passed to his right. Foxes and rabbits ducked under them.

"They’re our side! Don't shoot!" He yelled at the panicked line of archers. They’d expected an attack from the front, never one from behind.

The smiles across the defenders briefly infected the whole line.

"To the wall! The cats are advancing!"

Suddenly the sky was full of sparra.

That was when Muk felt the first explosion.

Crenshaw had aimed well and true, aiming for the beast's large front knee. If he could take it down like that, well he had no hope of that.

His shot stuck into the leg and exploded almost instantly.

He muttered a prayer of thanks to Nithe and took a second explosive-tipped arrow.

He raised the bow overhead.

In their charge, they had overshot the beast and its passengers.

Arrows flew behind them as the chickens instinctively dodged.

Crenshaw slowed his breathing.

This might be his only shot. Or that one might have been it.

He sought inner peace, his red mist, or whatever gobbledygook it was that Woda preached.

He loosed a second arrow, exhaling, and then grabbed the reins with both paws. The strength of his bow wasn't enough to hurt him badly, but the tension stung.

He didn't even watch, too caught up in the chickens' movements. He squeezed his legs together trying to adhere himself to the chicken.

"Woda! You crazy old mouse! We're doing it!" He yelled.

It wasn’t until all three of the chickens banked right away from the line of approaching cats, that Crenshaw realized that he was alone.

Where did that crazy mouse go?

An unnaturally deep hiss sounded from behind him, and he looked to draw another arrow as the chickens made a second pass at the beast.

This time the riders were ready for him.

But equally, they were not prepared for a mouse swordmaster who had climbed up of his own volition.

Crenshaw gasped, seeing the familiar blade sing in the fires that the riders carried. Two torches had already fallen, getting stuck in the giant cat beast's fur. The swordmaster and his blade were dancers at the funerals of the cats he cleft one at a time.

"This lunatic is going," he shot another arrow, this time at the center of the approaching line," to get himself killed," he nocked his final explosive arrow aiming beyond the explosion," and I'm going to have to explain to his granddaughter how he died. And I hate that."

He shot an arrow into the mass of cats that had been displaced to stop behind the first explosion. The large beast kept moving even with two cats flying off it towards the dirt.

Muk watched in horror as the fourth explosion rocked the front line. There were several hundred regimental soldiers manning the walls now, enough for a good defense. The cat's numbers appeared to dwarf them, and with the addition of a few helpers, it appeared that whatever unholy magic had summoned a giant abomination of a beast cat would be hurt.

They would bleed, and it was the defenders' job to capitalize on their efforts. Time would only tell if they needed to begin an organized retreat. This wasn't the first time that the good creatures of the Furrows had practiced their evacuation.

Muk was pleased that so many of the badgers had taken it seriously. He thought that the drills had been excessive at the beginning, but now they were worth every second. The claw, he knew agreed with his assessment.

Sparra light lances flew high over the cat's front line, dropping rocks. Many of the cats deflected the rocks with large wooden shields. The Sparra retreated, heading in for another volley.

Then the Marshall was beside himself and Muk was swept up in his command presence.

"We're going to pull back and make them hurt. Tell everyone to follow the eighth street back, our bluejays are mining the rest."

"Understood sir," he said.

Private Kay was probably setting up some of the traps. Muk remembered the ease with which she sat and took in Yates' situation. Unfortunately, the cheese-headed Sergeant had followed him here.

Land was land and it didn't mean much if you couldn't use it for what you wanted. They had plans to fall back to Marwei and destroy the bridges if needed. Muk was still on full alert when he tapped Yates' shoulder.

Like his approach to tea, the Sergeant did a rush job on a lot of things, but packing to go to the front was not one of them.

He lit two torches and handed one to his superior officer.

"May the bridges we burn light our way," Sergeant Yates said.

"Praise Nithe if it is true," Muk replied.

The goddess of chance and war was not fickle, as far as Muk knew. She favored the bold, the prepared, and those that didn't rely on their luck to get ahead.

Tonight, he hoped to be all of those.

Muk took one more look over the chaos that three large chickens had wrought.

A staggering amount of cats still pressed forward and it would be less than a minute before they reached the walls.

It was as good a time as any to bravely turn tail and run. Or, in the terms of the regimental doctrine, conduct a sapper aided retreat.

The unleashed wyvern smashed itself against the wall, oblivious to the damage from the overhead rubble.

It is particularly emphasized in ranger training to deal with wyverns in a specific way.

They’re usually treated like a large boulder falling down a hill. Rangers tended to stay out of the way after that particular lesson.

In the newest training paradigm, their position was not one of the ones that liked to catch boulders. They would leave that business to a professional. In this case, a horde of cats would suffice.

So Sela decided to do just that. He mused about how nice those professional cats were to take on that role on his behalf as he followed Rivers' flight. The druid had decided to give the cats exactly what every little kitten wanted- a laser light show.

They had practiced this often. The warm brown scales of the wyvern gleamed in the light she produced.

River flew, spouting flames that were nearly identical to the wyverns.

It was a cheap trick that would only work once. Both druid and ranger knew that the one time it worked it would be well worth it. The panic from an apparent wyvern making strafing runs with its own flames would cause any creature to instinctively run.

This is why they trained on the fake wyvern, to cause a general panic. The fact that they could do fake wyvern and real wyvern at the same time just upped the ante.

Riverport weaved flame after flame at the throngs of cats who had camped out nearby the manor. The counterattack from the Defenders pulls him out of his stupor.

Sela watched as three chickens spearheaded a large offensive against some beast that the cats had dragged into this mess. Another large boulder and he an otter liked to stick to the streams and the rivers he was used to. He wasn’t a waterfall otter.

The key to fighting a boulder then was to stay out of its way. All wyverns did was fly, sleep, and nap. Sela knew all this as he planned his route out through the distracted mass.

It looked like Woda took more of a mining approach and Sela was content to stay out of that particular battle.

Sela had long since kicked off his boots, finding that in a battle he preferred to walk around without them. When heavy running on even terrain he would need to outrun the giant flaming threat ball, was making it’s exit from a giant dancehall

"Well we all knew that Freya would make a splash this season," he said, “No one throught it would be this big.”

The mass of cats inside the manor slowed to a trickle as no more stepped out. This led Sela to believe the wyvern was ready to make another move. When the snacks ran out, Wyverns tended to look for more or sleep. He really hoped that it would sleep, but it was at the very least on the right side of the lines.

It was hard to believe that such destruction could happen in such a short time. He was glad that wyverns were usually not on this side of the Burrows. Through the bond, he felt River tug at him. She was pulling him towards her and further trying to nudge him to go around the battlefields. It seems like she found a passageway where he could run safely through in his mind he felt her. The path lit up in his mind, and he aimed to travel out of harms way. Sela set off at a jog.