#the sword bearer

[heavy-is-the-crown-if]

Merlin: here MC have a hold of Clarent

MC: * completely struggling to hold Clarent*

Merlin: ‘oh I guess you’re not actually the sword bearer’

Clarent: ‘oh no they are their just really weak’

This is totally a discussion that could take place in the story. lol

[riverdogproductions]

Omella - TSB

So here’s another scene from The Sword Bearer! It’s a bit longer than the last two I did. A really big theme in The Sword Bearer is that people are not always what you expect or assume; the idea of turning the usual expectations and stereotypes of classic Redwall on it’s head. Part of that is the open acknowledgment of queer characters, something that is very important to me. I already established that Teryn and Welra are in a budding relationship in a previous scene, but this scene introduces a character who I’ve had in my head ever since I wrote the very first part of this. Please let me know what you think!

Eltor was roused from his sleep by a kick to his ribs. The fox bolted upright to find a saber point practically tickling the tip of his nose. His eye followed the length of the blade up to the paw holding it, which belonged to a particularly serious looking mustachioed hare. A number of other hares also surrounded Eltor with weapons drawn, all dressed in similar uniform jackets. The fox slowly raised his paws, he had crossed paths with the Long Patrol before, and they were not to be underestimated.

 “Well well lads,” The hare with the saber drawn on Eltor began, “look at what we’ve found here, I right proper villain. Good first catch of the day, eh?”

 A murmur of chuckles and approval arose from the group of patrollers. The hare smiled as he glared at the fox.

 “Alright vermin, what wicked business are you up to on this fine day? And don’t think for a moment of trying anything funny.”

 Eltor kept his paws open and away from his body, “Any beast with sense would know to not try takin’ on the Long Patrol single-pawed.”

 A chorus of ayes and laughter from the squad of hares, they certainly liked that last comment. All Eltor could think about was where Welra, Teryn, and Haymish were.

 “It seems we’ve got a smart one here, lads,” The mustachioed hare laughed, not breaking his glare on the fox, “you’d be surprised how many of your kind don’t have that same brilliant sense of yours.” Another chorus of chuckles.

 “Now,” The hare’s laughter faded as he leaned forward, firmly pressing the point of his saber against Eltor’s nose, “You didn’t answer my question, good sir. What are you up to out here?”

 Eltor winced as he felt blood trickle from the tip of his nose, but before he could say or do anything the mustachioed hare’s eyes grew wide with rage and the fox’s head was slammed back against the ground. In the blink of an eye the hare was upon Eltor, his sword pressed up against the fox’s throat as his free paw gripped the front of his clothing.

 “What are you doing with that blade.” The words practically seethed through the hare’s clenched teeth. Eltor stayed defiantly silent, matching the hare’s intense glare with his own, his paw wrapped around the hilt of the Sword of Martin though he was unable to draw it.

 So this will be it, eh? The thought ran through the fox’s mind. At the paws of an over zealous Long Patrol hare? A Damn shame.

 After a moment that felt like forever the tension was broken. A long wooden pole was swiftly thrust between Eltor and the hare, pressing firmly against the hare’s chest and pushing him back off of the fox.

 “Now now, what’s all this then?” The dulcet voice belonged to another hare of the Long Patrol, as did the long pike that had separated Eltor and his assailant. They were a tall, slender built, but broad shouldered hare who moved with a confident grace as they stepped between Eltor and the stockier hare. This hare wore a similar jacket to the others, though styled slightly different, clearly an officer.

 “Sargent Whelt, may I ask what it is you’re doing with this beast?”

 “Captain Omella ,” Whelt scrambled to his footpaws, still bristling angrily, “this, this vermin was-”

 “Sleeping on the ground by the looks of it,” Omella interrupted, her tone still calm and to the point.

 “Well, he’s a fox and-”

 “Indeed he is,” Omella said, a twinge of sarcasm in her voice as she casually glanced down at Eltor.

 “He has the Sword of Martin with him!” Whelt was obviously growing frustrated.

 “Indeed he does.” Omella’s voice remained calm and soft, “And did he draw it on you?”

 “Pardon, marm?”

 “That Sword of Martin,” Omella asked again, matter-of-factly, “Did he draw it on you? Did he draw any blade at all?”

 “I-er, well, no.”

 “No? So he came at you with his claws and teeth then?”

 “…No, Captain.”

 “No.” The captain paced casually in front of Whelt, “So tell me, Sargent, did you defeat the unarmed, non-aggressive, grey-muzzled, one-eyed fox all on your own, or did a few of these leverets assist you?”

 A wave of stifled snickers arose from the group of Patrol hares. Sargent Whelt stood silent and seething. Omella halted her pacing and leaned her face in close to Whelt’s. Her voice dropped into an almost menacing calm tone.

 “Say, Sargent, I think we all could use some fresh water, don’t you? Why don’t you go see if you can scope any out, aye?”

 Whelt’s eyes were like fire as he locked his gaze with Omella, who returned the intense glare. Eltor almost thought that the two hares might have started dueling, clearly there had been a bit of animosity between these two before he was ever involved. After a very long moment Whelt broke the staredown and turned away with a huff, sheathing his saber and pointing at two of the other Patrol hares, gesturing them to follow as he stormed into the woods.

 Omella leaned back with a satisfied smile on her face before turning back to Eltor. She crouched in front of the fox, pulled a handkerchief from her jacket pocket, and handed it to him.

 “Apologies, the Sargent can be a bit over-zealous and quick to jump to conclusions.” The hare captain said warmly, “I myself make it a point to not judge other beasts based solely on what I see immediately in front of me, just as I wouldn’t want another to judge me.”

 Eltor eyed the hare captain as he held the handkerchief to his nose. They were a bit perplexing, taller and slightly broader like a male hare, with a deeper voice to match; but that last comment, the way they carried themself, how the other hares addressed them, and the name Omella told the fox that she was female.

 “I suppose I should count myself lucky then…ma’am?” Eltor responded. Omella nodded.

 “Captain Omella Grace Reinwood, of the Long Patrol, at your service…I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

 “Eltor,” the fox replied, the tip of his nose no longer bleeding, “Eltor Ashenblade.”

 “Ashenblade?” Omella’s brow rose before her voice rose slightly in volume, “It seems we have the famous Eltor Ashenblade with us today lads and lassies!”

 A murmur swept over the group of Patrol hares. Eltor grew nervous as he gave Omella a puzzled look.

 “You…know who I am?”

 “Salamandastron has made it a point to…keep track of notable and notorious war lords, bandit leaders, mercenaries, and other unsavory types,” The Captain explained, “it’s been a decent number of seasons now that we’ve been collecting whatever rumor or story we can, and your name has popped up more than once.”

 Eltor’s heart began to pound in his chest as he looked about at the squadron of hares, all armed to the teeth, as well as the captain crouched in front of him, whose glare practically pierced right through him.

 “Is that so?” Eltor asked, trying to remain calm.

 “Aye…” was Omella’s response, which hung on the air for what felt like an eternity before she finally started speaking again. “However, as I understand it, you haven’t been up to anything nefarious in quite some time.”

 “I never did think of myself as the nefarious type.” Eltor said in an attempt to seem forthright. Omella chuckled.

 “We never do.” The captain stood and stretched her legs, “Well, Eltor Ashenblade, I don’t see a reason to behead you today, much to Sargent Whelt’s disappointment, I’m sure. As far as I’m aware you haven’t done anything wrong here, but I am going to need you to answer some questions, namely: what exactly are you doing out this way with a Legendary sword from Redwall Abbey?”

 As if on queue, Welra, Teryn, and Haymish came bursting through the underbrush, escorted, none too gently, by two more Long Patrol hares. The trio fell to their knees, paws up as the Patrollers kept their weapons drawn on them.

 “Captain, we found these three skulking about nearby.” One of the hares said, “think there with him?”

 Omella took one brief look at the trio before her shoulders dropped with an exasperated sigh.

 “Put up your blades and tell me what these three are.”

 The two Patrollers looked at each other with confused expressions before one of them tentatively spoke up.

 “A squirrel, an otter, and a hedgehog?”

 Omella walked over in front of the trio and gestured at them, still looking at the hares guarding them.

 “The style of their clothing, the quality of their gear? They’re Redwallers, or Eastern woodlanders at the very least.”

 “But Captain, you’ve told us never to assume things about beasts.”

 “No, but using a few context clues can go a long way. Open that one’s bag.” She gestured toward Haymish. One of the hares grabbed his pack and opened it up and recited the contents.

 “Buttermilk scones, berry preserves, this looks like mint tea, red currant-”

 “Yup, definitely from Redwall.” Omella interrupted with a smile, “Redwallers are the only beasts I know to eat that fancy on the road. Help them up, and put those blades away, for goodness sake.”

 The two hares sheathed their weapons and helped the trio to their feet. One of them spoke up again.

 “Captain, could they be that one’s prisoners?” she gestured to Eltor, who still sat on the ground nearby with his paws up, “We did hear that some Redwallers had been kidnapped in the attack.”

 “Do they look like they’ve been imprisoned? With those weapons and packs of food on their backs?”

 “Er, no, marm.”

 “And you said you found them, what was it, ‘skulking about’?”

 “Yes, marm.”

 “Than they aren’t prisoners, otherwise they would have taken the opportunity to run.” Omella finally turned her attention to the trio in front of her, “Tell me, you three, what is that beast’s name?”

 She turned and pointed at Eltor.

 “Eltor,” Teryn answered, “Eltor Ashenblade.”

 “And is he a friend of yours? Or at least a travelling companion?”

 There was pregnant pause before Welra finally answered.

 “Yes.”

 Eltor’s eye widened as he stared at Welra, who returned the look confidently.

 “Good.” That seemed to satisfy Omella enough, “Also someone help the beast up out of the dirt.”

 Two hares broke from the general group and helped Eltor to his feet, one of them kept a firm paw grip on his shoulder, which Eltor promptly slapped away. Omella turned back to the trio of Redwallers and bowed her head.

 “I humbly apologize, young masters, never can be too careful in these parts. I am Captain Omella Grace Reinwood, of the Long Patrol. May I ask who you are?”

 The three young Redwallers all glanced at each other. They had been told plenty of times that the Long Patrol of Salamandastron were allies to Redwall and could be trusted, but being ambushed has a tendency to make a beast wary. Teryn finally spoke up.

 “Teryn!” The squirrel said with her usual bright confidence. Omella smiled and shifted her gaze to Haymish.

 “I, er, Haymish,” The hedgehog answered nervously, “Sir.”

 “Marm,” Omella responded. Haymish’s head tilted in a puzzled look.

 “Er, pardon?”

 “It’s marm,” Omella explained plainly, “I am addressed as marm, not Sir.”

 “Oh! I, er, my apologies, miss Ma’am!” Haymish bowed his head, more so in embarrassment than in apology. Omella laid a reassuring pat on the hedgehog’s shoulder before turning her eyes to Welra.

 “And you?”

 “Welra,” The otter said sullenly. Omella’s brow rose.

 “Welra,” The hare repeated, “That sounds an awful lot like Welken, the…last Abbey Champion. Was he-?”

 “My brother,” Welra said flatly as she stared up at Omella intensely.

 “I am so sorry for your loss, you have my deepest condolences.”

 Welra simply averted her eyes. After an awkward pause Omella cleared her throat.

 “Yes, well. Let’s hop to the subject of why you-”

 “Captain!” Omella was cut off by one of the privates that had accompanied Sargent Whelt returning to the clearing, an arrow protruding from his shoulder. A few of the other Patrolers rushed to the private’s aid.

 “By the fur,” Omella said with a resigned sigh, “I sent Whelt to find water, not get our creatures killed. Well then, Private, report sharpish!”

 The Private winced in pain as he sat and let the medic tend to his wound.

 “We found a stream,” he explained breathlessly, “but we we’re jumped, sort of.”

 “Sort of?” Omella raised a brow.

 “It wasn’t a proper ambush, just a few arrows from across the stream, bandits by the look of it. They pegged me here on the arm but turned tail quickly, probably part of a larger group. Whelt and the others are holding the stream now.”

 “So we’re on the right track,” Omella said with satisfaction, “Good work, lad, finish getting patched up and then catch up. Long Patrol!” The Captain turned to the main group of Patrolers, who all stood to attention with anticipation.

 “It’s time to move out! I want our quickest trackers out front, make sure we don’t lose their trail. Keep it quick and keep it quiet, don’t want these villains giving us the slip. Aye?”

 An enthusiastic chorus of ‘Aye’s was the response.

 “Good.” A smile formed across Captain Omella’s face, “let’s go give ‘em a little blood and vinegar, eh?”

 Another hearty cheer arose from the group as they began to swiftly move out in the direction the Private had indicated. Omella turned back to the group from Redwall.

 “I have a feeling our objectives out here may align,” she said, “we’ll discuss it later. For now, do try to keep up as best as you can. Corporal Olly!”

 A young hare broke away from the Long Patrol group and loped up to the group, throwing up a smart salute and standing at attention.

 “Yes, Captain Omella, marm!” The eager corporal bellowed.

 “These four are your responsibility,” Omella explained, indicating Eltor, Welra, Teryn, and Haymish, “keep an eye on them, make sure they keep up, and get any information they’re willing to share.”

 “Marm, yes, marm!”

 Omella smiled before turning back to Eltor and the others.

 “We’ll speak again later.” The Captain gave a curt nod before hefting her pike and taking off after the rest of the Long Patrol, barking orders as she went. Corporal Olly dropped his rigid stance after the captain had left.

 “Well,” The Corporal said with a cheery smile, “We best be off! Though we don’t have to keep up quite the same pace. I’m Olly by the way!”

 “A pleasure to meet you Olly!” Teryn replied, her own bright disposition having returned. “My name is Teryn, and this is Welra, Haymish, and Eltor.”

 While most of the other Long Patrol hares had eyed Eltor with suspicion, Olly didn’t seem put off by the fox at all. The group began moving at a brisk walking pace as they exchanged pleasantries.

 “That’s uh, quite the Captain you have.” Welra said. Olly practically beamed.

 “Aye, Captain Omella is the best officer in the Long Patrol! She can be a bit unorthodox, butts heads with some of the more old fashioned types, and is known to take risks, but no leader is perfect, after all. Her soldiers love and respect her, we’d follow her into anything!”

 “Quite a bit of pride in your voice,” Eltor mentioned as he eyed the young hare. Olly shrugged his shoulders.

 “I suppose one can be a bit biased when talking about your own mother!”

 “She’s your mum?” Haymish asked in surprise.

 “Yeah! Well, actually she’s my Ma, Mum is back home at Salamandastron.”

 “Wait…what?” Haymish scratched his head in confusion.

 “You have two mothers?” Teryn spoke up before Olly could respond.

 “Yeah!” The hare said with a casual shrug, “Mum, whose name is Iris, is back at home, she’s not a Long Patrol soldier; and then Ma is Omella, though out here on patrol she’s Captain, first and foremost. Using Mum and Ma is the easiest way to keep separate who I’m talking about.”

 Welra could feel Teryn’s paw tangling with her own before giving a firm squeeze. The otter glanced at the squirrel; both found smiles on each other’s faces.

 “I imagine she’s a tough mother to have,” Eltor said with a chuckle, “hard-tailed as she is.”

 “Actually, not as much as you might think,” Olly said with his own chuckle, “Ma’s a lot more relaxed back at home, not too strict or overbearing. I think she really prefers to keep the Patrol and home separate. Now Mum, she’s the one who would tan my hide if I ever got into any trouble haha!”

 “But…” Haymish said, still contemplating the situation, “what about your father? You gotta have one, right? Even if he isn’t around, he’s somebody, right?”

 “Well…” Olly answered after a pause, “Technically my Ma is.”

 Haymish nodded for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m even more confused.”

 “Story goes,” Olly explained, “Ma…wasn’t always Ma, well she was, but for much of her life she wasn’t seen or treated that way. Everyone thought that she was a male hare, but deep in her heart, ever since she was a leveret, she knew she was different, though she didn’t always know how or why. She joined the Long Patrol, thinking a little military discipline might chase the feelings away, but it didn’t. She met and fell in love with my Mum, and thought maybe that would help, but the feelings only grew stronger. I don’t know exactly when my Ma figured out that she was supposed to be a haremaid, but I think it was right around when I was born. I don’t even remember her ever being my ‘Pa’, she had decided to live her life truthfully and fully as Omella by the time I could remember anything. I’m sure Mum had figured Ma out long before she ever told her, and she supported and loved her all the way.”

 The group looked at Olly wide-eyed as he said all of this, it wasn’t something that any of the young Redwallers had ever heard of before. A creature whose mind and body didn’t quite align and thus chose to change the way they lived their life and presented themselves to others in order to feel more comfortable in their own fur.

 “That’s…” Haymish started, still flabbergasted.

 “Incredible.” Welra completed the thought.

 “Yeah, I suppose it is!” Olly said with a smile, still rather casual about the whole thing, “It was no walk down the beach for Ma, that’s for sure. There were quite a few hares, older more traditional types, who didn’t approve, some still don’t. There was some talk of kicking Ma out of the Long Patrol, something that she was prepared for even though she didn’t want it. But when many of the younger Patrollers as well as the Badger Lord’s family themselves vouch for someone, it’s hard for them to be ousted. Plus she’s an even better Patroller now than ever before.”

 “That’s really amazing!” Teryn said, “Your mother is incredibly brave and strong, you have every right to be proud of her!”

 “I’ve never heard of anyone like that,” Welra said, “I couldn’t imagine what that must be like. Is there any other creature like her?”

 “You’d be surprised,” Eltor spoke up, the others turned to him. “You woodlanders tend to be a lot more, well, traditional. I’ve been all over; cultures can vary. I traveled with many clans and crews that are more open and accepting of those who are different. Beasts in relationships with each other regardless of their gender, and it not being treated like a secret to not be discussed. Even met a few beasts like your Ma, Olly, living their lives as someone different than how others expected them to be.”

 “So, do you have a handsome beau out there somewhere Eltor?” Haymish asked with a chuckle. Teryn elbowed him in the shoulder.

 “I did, actually.”

 The others grew quiet. Not the response they expected to hear.

 “It was a long time ago,” Eltor said solemnly, his one eye turned away from the group, “I’ve had a few different partners in the past, but he…well he was special, I cannot deny that.”

 They all walked in silence for a few moments before Eltor spoke up again.

 “Well then,” the fox’s tone grew much more energetic, “we should probably make sure we don’t lose the rest of that Long Patrol, yeah?”

 Eltor’s pace quickened and he moved ahead, Olly and Haymish followed. Teryn and Welra kept back for a moment, both thinking about everything they had just learned about Omella and even Eltor. Welra stared at the warrior fox’s back as he walked ahead of them. She was viewing him in a whole new light.

Okay since you got this far, I would just like to confirm that: Yes, Captain Omella is a trans woman. Obviously the word “Transgender” is not explicitly used in the writing, since I am avoiding using more modern terminology and language that simply wouldn’t exist in a setting like Redwall at this point in time. Which is why I tried my best to explain things clearly and in a way that was (hopefully) easy to understand. Redwall is a world intended for all ages, and that is something I have kept in mind when writing this. Characters like Omella, Welra, and Teryn are extremely important to me, not just as representation for myself, but as representation for any younger, possibly gay or trans, kid reading something like Redwall. Representation matters, queer kids exist and if they are able to see someone that they relate to being celebrated it can go a very long way. I’m trying to create the representation that I wish I could have had growing up.

Now obviously I’m saying all of this as if this would ever be published and read by anyone other than the tiny tumblr redwall fandom, but still, it’s important to me.

[heavy-is-the-crown-if]

Could you please tell us what is a sword bearer

You know how in the legend Arrhur pulls excalibur from the rock, right? And to do this he had to be worthy in some way? Well, the sword bearer have the same role with Clarent. They are empowered to wield the sword until the rightful heir proves his worth, which usually puts them in a difficult position because who owns the sword, owns the crown.

[riverdogproductions]

Guess who’s back! I’ve had the idea for a full fledged story starring these characters since I first wrote ‘The Sword Bearer’ forever ago. I was given a prompt by @kitterjitters in our discord and felt I could make it work with these characters, since this was already a scene I wanted to write anyway haha.

The indistinguishable swish of a sword blade rung through the morning air. Welra held the Sword of Martin in one paw as she moved around in a circle, keeping the blade aloft and steady. The otter shifted on her paws quickly as changed her stance, never stopping her movement, and occasionally swinging the blade at the empty air.

“Good,” Eltor said from where he sat nearby as he watched the otter intently, studying her movements with his one good eye, “Good footwork but you’re still too tense in the shoulders.”

Welra tried to relax her shoulders as she quickened her pace; going through more of the forms Eltor had showed her.

“You’re flank is too open.” The older fox said bluntly as he continued to sharpen his short sword.

Welra’s face screwed up into a grimace as she swung the blade more intensely.

“Now you’re just showing your hand too early.”

“Gah!” Welra growled as she swung the blade at a nearby branch, sending leaves and twigs raining down on the ground.

“Now now, there’s no need for that,” Eltor said with a chuckle. Welra let out a frustrated huff.

“I thought I was getting better!” The otter sighed.

“You are.” The fox said as he stood.

“Sure doesn’t feel like it with you picking apart my every move.”

“You wanna get any good with that blade?” Eltor said a bit more harshly than he intended. Welra nodded.

“Well it takes a whole lot of practice, and practice only works if you actually improve what you’re doing wrong, yeah?”

Welra nodded again, her eyes shifting away from the fox.

“Well I figured you for someone who could actually take some facts straight to her face,” Eltor said, paws crossed in front of his chest, “not some mewling pup who needed her paw held and a treat every time she got it right, or was I wrong about that?”

Welra smiled as she looked back at the fox and shook her head. Eltor smiled back.

“Good!” He said as he put a paw on the otter’s shoulder, “And you are getting better, lass. No one becomes a sword master overnight, you think Teryn came straight out of her momma as good with a bow as she is now?”

Welra chuckled and rolled her eyes, “No.”

“Exactly!” The fox replied, “Speaking of which, she and Haymish probably have camp broken down by now, we should get moving. C’mon.”

Eltor held a paw out towards Welra, who looked at it, her smile fading as her grip on the Sword of Martin tightened.

“Can’t I carry it? At least for a little while?”

The fox shook his head solemnly as he kept his paw up, “I gave your Abbot a vow, I’m to carry it on this journey; he entrusted it to me, along with protecting all of you young’uns, and I don’t intend on going back on either of those promises.”

Welra let out a frustrated sigh before handing the blade back over to Eltor, who sheathed it on his belt and began turning away.

“I want to use it to kill Garek.” The otter said flatly. Eltor turned back to her, eyeing her up and down. He had already learned that this otter wasn’t one to mince words or joke about such things. He stepped up close and leaned over her.

“You’re gonna have to beat me to him,” The fox responded grimly, “and frankly, I’m not gonna let you.”

“Oh so you get your revenge, but I don’t?” Welra began to yell in anger, “He killed my brother!”

“And he should’ve killed me!” Eltor growled in response.

“What the hell does that mean?” Welra threw her paws out in confusion.

“Beasts like us…” Eltor began to explain between frustrated huffs, “we’ve got codes, or at least we’re supposed to, Garek’s made it a point to break a few of them. You ever hear the phrase ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’? Well in our line of work it’s more like ‘what you don’t kill will come back to bite you.’”

“Alright and what does that even mean?” The otter sighed, growing even more frustrated.

“It means he shouldn’t have left me for dead, he should’ve made sure I was dead, and now he’s going to pay for that mistake.” The fox growled as he turned away.

So what? He insulted you??” Welra’s voice rose to a scream as her fury boiled over, “That’s it? You get your revenge for that, but I don’t get mine? You were hurt, my brother is dead!”

“And he deserves Justice!” Eltor roared as he whirled back around on the otter, “Not vengeance!”

Both creatures stood panting in silence for moment as they stared at one another. Tears began welling in Welra’s eyes as she cocked her head in confusion.

“The moment you kill a beast for nothing but vengeance,” Eltor began to speak calmly, “is the moment you become exactly like me, exactly like Garek. Killing will become your only answer.”

“But..”

“Let’s say you manage to beat Garek,” Eltor cut Welra off, “let’s say you get the drop on him or somehow beat him in battle, which I can tell you for a fact he’s far and away a better swordbeast than you. Let’s say you get him on his back and then plunge that holy blade into his chest. Then what?”

Welra could only stand in silence with her paws clenched, tears flowing down her face.

“Is that what you really want?” Eltor continued, “ I sure don’t think that it is. Is it what your friends would want? What that Abbey of yours would want? What your brother would want?”

“Don’t talk like you knew him,” Welra hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh I’ve learned about him well enough,” The fox said, “Through you, your friends, and your Abbey. All of you knew that he was the best of you. If you are hurting this much because he’s now gone, then I know he had to have been a good beast, a just beast, one that wouldn’t do anything for petty vengeance.”

Another long moment of silence, Welra’s jaw and paws both unclenched as Eltor turned away from her again.

“I won’t let you fall down the same path as far too many before have,” The fox said softly, “I won’t let your soul grow hard and angry. I won’t let death become your life. Like…” he did not finish the thought, only hanging his head solemnly.

Welra wiped her tears and walked up to Eltor, placing a paw on his shoulder.

“And you think that it’s already too late for you?” she said, her voice raspy. The fox turned his good eye toward the otter after a moment but did not answer.

“Come on,” He said finally, “Let’s get back to the others.” He pressed his short sword into Welra’s paws and walked back towards their camp without another word. The otter stared down at the blade for a moment and then at the older fox’s back before she followed.

[riverdogproductions]

really been trying to write more, at least small simple scene, and posting them will give some good motivation. so hey have some more Sword Bearer, some gay animals in the woods

Teryn found Welra a short distance away from camp. The otter sat with her back against an elm while facing the setting sun, the last light of which still poked through the trees. Welra’s face was hard set and clearly in thought. Teryn tried to approach her friend slowly and from a wide angle, as not to accidently startle her.

 “Hi,” The squirrel said softly to get Welra’s attention, “Mind if I join ya?”

 “Hey,” The otter responded as she was shaken out of her trance, her face lighting up into a warm smile at the sight of her best friend, “not at all.”

 Teryn smiled sweetly and sat down on the soft, loamy soil next to Welra, leaning one shoulder against the elm.

 “Having fun brooding out here?” The squirrel asked with a grin and soft giggle. Welra couldn’t help but smile and chuckle in response, Teryn always knew how to cheer her up.

 “Well not anymore, it’s hard to be all broody and sad when you’re around.”

 “I do tend to have that effect on people,” Teryn responded in a playful tone. Welra laughed, something she hadn’t done in awhile, something Teryn missed. The squirrel placed her paw on the otter’s.

 “But seriously,” she asked, “are you okay?”

 Welra let out a deep sigh and paused for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I’m alright, just…tired. Thinking about something Eltor said earlier.”

 “I thought I heard you two yelling. Do I have to go give him a good beating?”

 Welra couldn’t help laughing again, that deep hearty laugh Teryn loved.

 “As much as I’d love to see that,” The otter said between chuckles, “it’s not necessary. Besides, he was probably right. He’s not…”

 “What we expected from a grizzled old mercenary fox?”

 “No, definitely not.”

 “Well I like him,” Teryn said after a pause, “and I trust him. What’s important is that he’s here to help us; we never would have made it this far without him. We might actually have a chance to…”

 Welra looked Teryn deep in her eyes. The evening light highlighted the squirrel’s soft, auburn fur.

 “We will get your sister back,” she said firmly, “I will do everything to get her back safely, if it’s the last thing I do.”

 “I know you will,” Teryn replied, her soft, beautiful smile never wavering, “but it better not be the last thing you do.”

 The two young maidens sat in silence for a while, Teryn leaned her head against Welra’s shoulder as the last flickers of daylight faded between the trees. Welra looked down and noticed that her and Teryn’s paws were clasped tightly together; she hadn’t even noticed their fingers intertwining as the talked.

 “You know,” The otter finally spoke up softly, “I hadn’t forgotten what we…talked about.”

 “Oh?” the squirrel replied coyly.

 “Or about the first spring feast, and…how we said we felt.”

 Teryn had sat back up at this point. She lifted Welra’s head with a paw so their eyes met. The otter’s eyes were a deep, dark brown; the squirrel’s a soft and bright hazel.

 “And I’m sorry I was so cagey about it,” Welra continued, lost in Teryn’s eyes, “I guess I was just…scared. And with everything that’s happened since then I wasn’t able to bring it back up. But right now, amongst all of this craziness, you are the only thing that makes sense in my life, and I-“

 Before Welra could finish her thought Teryn had already pressed her mouth against hers. It wasn’t their first kiss, which belonged to the first spring feast and a little too much October Ale that they snuck from the cellars, but this was the first where there was no confusion, no question about how they felt. Welra wrapped a paw tightly around Teryn’s back as she pulled the squirrel onto her lap, and Teryn held the otter’s face in her paws. Their kiss broke after what felt like an age, the two maidens panting as they pressed their foreheads together, their whiskers still entwined. Neither was able to stifle their smiles and giggles.

 “Sorry,” Teryn said between giggles as her paw stroked the fur on the back of Welra’s neck, “I’ve just wanted to do that for so long.”

 “I’ve wanted you to do that for so long,” The otter said, “Just was never very good at saying it.”

 “Well you don’t need to say it now.” Teryn said as she leaned in for another kiss, “I think I’ve got a pretty clear idea.”

 The pair kissed again. It was a freeing feeling for the both of them, to find a little bit of hope and happiness in a time of darkness. They sat at the base of the tree for sometime, paws entwined, giggling, talking, and simply enjoying each other’s company. It felt nice, it felt right.

 “Ahh there you two are!” Haymish’s sudden voice caused the maidens to jump in surprise, “I managed to put together a really good soup, y’all better get some before it gets any colder or Eltor finishes it off.”

 The hedgehog walked around in front of his two friends, throwing them a quizzical look.

 “Just what are ye two doing out here?”

 Teryn and Welra stood, brushing dirt and leaves from their clothes. Welra shrugged nonchalantly.

 “Nothing, just talking for a bit.” She said casually, trying to quell her smile. Teryn stifled a giggle.

 “Yeah, no need to babysit us, Hay” the squirrel said jokingly.

 Haymish squinted at the pair of maids for a few moments.

 “Um, okaayyy,” he said finally, still not sure what to make of them, “Well I’m heading back to camp and getting some sleep.”

 “Go on ahead,” Welra said with a wave of her paw, “we’re right behind ya.”

 The hedgehog turned, scratching the spikes on his head as he made his way back to camp. After a moment Welra and Teryn looked at each other and broke into a fit of giggles. They composed themselves and followed in Haymish’s tracks, paw in paw.

[coolthekid]

"I never go away. And if you go away, you will find me waiting for you, wherever you choose to flee. You cannot escape me."

The Changer