“They’re swimming!”

A voice, someone from the regiment yelled over the cacophony of splashing.

No one in the regiment expected the cats from the Marquis to swim, but a sufficiently motivated cat can be shown to do about anything in this day and age.

Freya leaned back into Muk. Such a move would have been the height of scandal at any point up until the last few days.

Freya had no quarrel with societal norms, so when a maiden won the heart of the dashing heartthrob and saved him from a horde of enemies, she was entitled to a bit of a cuddle. A break from the action while all the rest of her ladies in waiting and attendants all swooned and clapped would have been a nice touch as well. Without that, well she didn’t feel robbed, but the books had made it sound like a given.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, you and I,” Muk said, gripping her as the chicken steered down the remaining portion of the bridge.

“I suppose that’s about right,” she replied, “But perhaps we should move away from the dangerous roving war band?”

“That’s about the best thing I’ve heard all day. What say we go ahead and do that?”

“I… have a vested interest in my grandpaw over there.”

Muk gasped.

The pair of mice turned back to watch, but the mouse was nowhere to be found.

Freya looked frantically, searching at the spot where she swore that she’d just seen him, but to no avail. She nearly jumped off the chicken to run back, but Muk held her as if he needed her in that moment and she melted.

Sela would save him. She knew that he was in the water, and if nothing else the ranger would save him. Or that was a fantasy, but if it was one, it was one that she would cling to.

Miru. Why did the elder mouse have to rush into danger? He clearly acted like he wanted to meet the god of death and life sooner rather than later. Freya didn’t appreciate it, because for all that good he did for the family, he was still part of her clan.

She was going to have some choice words for the Uki Patriarch. Several swear words would be used, she would have to be a stern granddaughter. It was hard to raise grandparents in this day and age, what with them all trying to go on adventures and court the displeasure of the gods themselves.

Chicken Freya took the two mice down through the ranks, with a black raven in tow. There would be questions, and probably an official investigation into whatever the heck had actually happened, and who knew what the circle would do about the wyvern. Or perhaps, she might be the one called up to deal with their pesky fire-breathing problem.

It didn’t really matter to her either way. She was content to be held by Muk as the dawn broke in front of them, melting like a bit of butter on a warm summer's day.

Crenshaw slumped down on the Marwei side, kissing the sand.

"We made it."

"Like a thousand boots have been through that sand today alone, are you sure that you want to do that?" Sergeant Yates nodded to him.

He hadn’t even noticed the scout. It made sense, what with the scouts being a part of the regiment, but there were hundreds of coalition Soldiers and the odds of the one that knew him showing up were probably very good.

"Oh bother. Listen young blood, you get a chance to retire? You take it. I came out of retirement for this fool's errand and I am going to go right back."

Yates looked down on him. It wasn’t a look of contempt but the look was familiar. It was probably the one he had given countless older retired mice hundreds of times.

The one that said: Yes, I understand you old timer - but things are different now.

He didn't begrudge the scout such an ideal. To care about one's job while also appearing to not care? That was what a good Sergeant did.

Grandpaw would turn up again, he had to. From what Muk was blabbing in her ear, he’d been particularly hard to kill, and probably taken down a large beast on his own. He might be some ascendant hero, from what Muk was saying.

“I swear Freya, the beast itself, it was like a siege engine brought to life,” he said, as she tuned him in.

“A siege engine?”

“Giant pieces of engineering made to destroy fortifications. You pretended to be a blue jay for a while, right?”

“Wild shaped, so I was one of them.”

“Well, it’s what they do when they’re not digging tunnels or making explosives. Sapping, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. No?”

Freya shook her head, which felt weird without a beak. She also missed the keen sense of smell that the cats had.

Behind them, archers continually loosed a volley into the war band as it broke. Freya collapsed into Muk, as the weight of everything overcame her all at once.

Muk held her tighter.

“I think that I might need some time off,” she said.

“That seems prudent.”

River walked up next to the two mice. Freya had made it back to their side, and their mission had been a sort of success. Sela pulsed something intriguing over the bond and she knew he’d meet her in Marwei.

The long bridge stretched out in front of them, and the line of rabbits, mice, and foxes rushed back and forth. Archers resumed their volleys, almost as an afterthought.

With a deep breath, she grabbed her last biscuit and chomped it down. The cats raged on the shore and in the river.

It wasn’t enough to stop them. Cats wouldn’t take prisoners from the regiment, except possibly from some of the foxes. Therefore the regiment would brook no compromise.

River had heard once that when someone was taken hostage that the regiment immediately held a funeral. Something about not letting their life or death factor into the discussion. If they returned, the regiment would be overjoyed but if they didn’t, well if there were talks, they wouldn’t include anyone for whom the regiment had declared dead.

Knowing that she realized why now the remainder of the mass of cats was choosing to attempt to float down the denoue river to safety. Behind them, she heard someone ordering the scouts to immediately go downriver via chicken. She perked up, seeing that there was something she could do.

“Muk, I…”

“It’s not for us Freya. The scouts have to do their own thing, and few of those cats will be able to drag themselves across the whitewater rapids.”

Freya looked over and realized that River the druid was weaving something over the water. The flow looked fluid and moving, like a wave and then Freya saw the power behind the magic leave the raven and go directly into the water.

Waves splashed higher downriver as the effects of her weave became apparent. Muk nudged Freya and their mount towards the druid.

“Hail, fair druid, perhaps the regiment would be able to give you some breakfast?” He said to the blackbird.

“That would be most agreeable,” she said.

Behind her, the waves continued to rise and fall from the origin point, set where the druid had tied off the weave. Freya was amazed to see it still pulsing with power, rather than immediately dissipating as she’d expected.

With nothing left to do, the druid saw to the important business of refueling.

"You wouldn't happen to have something in your pockets, Lieutenant?"

Muk fished about and pulled out a wrapped square.

Freya recognized it for the calorie-dense trail ration it was.

"It's not ladylike but-"

"Ms. Uki-Freya just eat the thing."

Freya smiled and did exactly that.

Ahead of them, the group saw Crenshaw arguing with a rabbit and decided to continue onwards. Freya saw how tired her companions were, and didn’t begrudge them their time as they arrived at the docks. The mass of refugees hadn’t moved far from the docks and Muk gulped.

“I’m going to have to disperse this crowd somehow.”

“Why does it have to be you?” Freya asked.

“I’m the ranking officer out here, most likely.”

Muk scanned the crowd looking for a sign of epaulets.

Wearily, he realized that he was it.

"I'm going to have to do something I don't normally do, but I understand that this is a special situation. I don't see the marshall or the claw, or any of the commanders here, so I need to take charge."

Freya looked confused.

"Give me five minutes to get these creatures all in check."

"You still owe me breakfast."

"I owe you my life, I think, so trust that I'll come through with something delicious. It just so happens that I know where all of the provisions are."

With that, he jumped down off the chicken gracefully and began shouting orders.

Freya zoned out. She watched him take control of the mass of Soldiers, organizing them into lines and clearing out a pathway in the center;

The mouse was in some sort of fugue state, giving order after order and she didn't even notice when he returned.

"Oh hey, I almost forgot something," he said, "can you ask your chicken to lower you down?"

Freya smiled and patted her mount.

"Down, girl," she said to the chicken.

Muk walked over to her reaching up with both arms.

"What did you forget …ooooh!"

Freya fell into his embrace and the jeers and whistles from the bustling Soldiers around her couldn't even draw her attention as Muk drew her into a long kiss.

Freya melted into his arms and shut the world out. For a moment the world was just the two of them and she hadn’t a care of anything else. Sparks flew and Freya realized that she had to come up for air at some time. She begrudgingly let him release her and sighed.

"There. Now if you wouldn't mind, we can look for your Grandpaw? I have sent for food. It's what he would have wanted us to do, I think?"

Freya squeezed his paw and mounted her chicken with his help. It wasn’t that she needed the hand, but a lady druid wasn't going to say no to a handsome Lieutenant's aid.

Sela found River and Crenshaw shortly thereafter.

“You’re all very easy to find with the chickens. Crenshaw, it seems, is having some sort of crisis down by the river? I think he’ll be alright. I dearly hope so at least.”

"I'm fine," the old mouse said, "what about Woda?"

River and Sela looked at each other.

"He did something very stupid."

"He tried to buy us time," Crenshaw replied.

"That… doesn't make it smart," River said, "I'll fly over the area."

Crenshaw and Sela both tried to stop the druid, but she launched herself up before either could get a word in.

As she flew up among the sparra, Freya and Muk arrived.

“We should have stopped her,” Crenshaw said.

“Mate, I think that would not have worked at all. Have you seen what she does to creatures that try to stop her?”

Sela waved to the mass of cats that were now making a last stand against the wyvern that had trampled through most of the Furrows.

River knew that something was wrong. It wasn’t the wyvern who was tiring itself out, and it wasn’t Selas pulsing to her that set her on edge.

Woda was just gone. She had so many questions for him that she’d been saving for the end of their little sightseeing trip.

He was nowhere to be found.

They’d said that he jumped into the fray, possibly in some attempt to slow the cat's advance.

River was distraught. Not only had he been a swordmaster who was invaluable to the coalition, but he was also Freyas grandparent. She would…what would she do? Throw a tantrum and try to walk into an active battle?

When Spring had brought her into the fold, she’d spoken about how the model one had of someone else was just that. You might think they would act one way, and then they would surprise you when they didn’t. There was no rhyme or reason to their decisions. She knew what she would do, of course, but that in itself was only her projection of herself after all.

Grief did strange things to creatures and she needed to know. Freya would need to know, but in the mess of cats, she couldn’t make him out.

River banked, turning around.

He was an old mouse. He should be able to take care of himself.

River had heard horror stories of older warriors going out to fight beasts in what they thought were their last days. Perhaps this was one of those moments, but she really didn’t think so.

They were going to have to wait.

And when the wyvern stopped to nap, she would send it back through the burrows. She had enough to worry about when errant sword masters decided to just jump into an unwinnable battle.

She dreaded telling Freya about the mouse. River briefly considered having Sela talk to her, but dismissed that possibility quickly. It was her burden to carry, not his.

River touched down on the Marwei side.

Freya sobbed.

She didn't need to say anything.

River’s face said all that she needed to know.

For now, they could let the battle sort itself out. For now mouse held onto mouse and the two stood atop one of the bridges that formerly connected the two cities.

Across the way the scorched buildings of the furrows lit up the day. The wyvern had ran out of steam and began to nest in the uppermost layer of the Furrows.

"Hey, where is Stone?" Crenshaw asked.