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XL

Consequences

It was hard to enjoy himself today, even with the shining sun and warm breeze against his face. He knew he should be with the others, not standing in the dank area by himself, pondering what to do for the rest of the day. The chubby hare took a few deep breaths before he rubbed his ears. His paws were still coated with mud that was drying and getting in his fur. His white coat was no longer clean, and it looked and smelled like somebeast threw clods of dung at him. His footpaws were simmering in mud so thick it almost went above his Achilles' tendons. At best, the giant tree behind him covered in hornworts was the cleanest entity in the whole swamp. Lieutenant Hollis exhaled again as he looked at the sleeves of his coat, surprised at how easily everything was covered. It wouldn't matter anyway. Supplies were low. More hares were getting sick or suffering from worsening rashes. Their Badger Lord was steadily losing his mind as each day progressed. And eight more hares had been buried, one of whom was so torn up that Hollis had to wrap his body so nobeast could see how disfigured his corpse was.

But that was okay. Nobeast knew his secret. Hollis kept staring at his arms. He turned to check and make sure nobeast was around. So the long-eared beast leaned against the tree and pulled down his left sleeve, revealing at least eleven different scars, one of which nearly went up half his arm. Hollis exhaled as he reached down and removed a dagger from his belt. He glared at it for a moment, and then looked at his arm again. Most of them were just small cuts. And he rarely went without his coat on, so nobeast knew. Nobeast would know now either. The hare slowly lowered his dagger against his left arm and blinked. He didn't puncture the skin though; he only stared at the dagger as the sunlight glimmered off the clean blade. He kept staring, telling himself to do it. Maybe another small cut would make him feel better. Maybe another huge one would kill him this time.

"Lieutenant?"

Hollis' eyes grew wide. His ears wiggled, and he turned to look towards his right. The hare exhaled and quickly moved his sleeve back down.

"Oi! Stink Mouth!"

Hollis put his dagger away before clearing his throat and walking out into the open. "Believe it or not, but even I have to void my bowels, wot!"

Hollis stared at Stanno as he walked towards him sighing. "You been gone over an hour now! The fuck you out here doin'?"

"Fer your information, Sarn't, I'm tryin' to find more herbs an' mosses and wotnot so I c'n try to make more poultices and remedies! Won't be long now 'fore a lotta beasts start breakin' out in rashes in uncomfortable areas!"

Stanno rubbed his forehead and sniffed. "Sorry...I didn't mean to disturb you."

For a moment, Hollis thought about yelling at the sergeant again. But he told himself to calm down, and Hollis exhaled as he approached Stanno.

"Bah, don't worry 'bout it. S'pose we're all a bit rigid over all this bollocks that happened."

After nodding, Stanno said, "I know. That's why I'm here."

Irritation flared in Hollis' brain again. He exhaled harshly and grumbled. "I told you, I can't help Honward. This isn't somethin' a mere chat will resolve. It's gonna take a while 'afore he gets through all this."

"I'm well aware of that. I was just gonna ask if you wanna have a drink. Or...y'know, several. We got plenty of blackcurrant and elderberry wine."

It seemed like nothing but a waste of time, like giving a beast who was thirsty a drink of water, even though he or she was bleeding out and would be dead soon. Nevertheless, Hollis' throat was parched, and with Angus dead, it seemed like the Long Patrol was out of danger. For now, at least. So Hollis nodded and smiled.

"Sure mate. Can't refuse a good ol' bottle of wine, wot!"

Stanno smiled before he turned and started to walk away. Hollis stayed still and frowned again. He quickly lifted his left arm and lowered the sleeve again, gazing at the scars. Shaking his head, Hollis covered his secret before he jogged after Stanno.

---

Just once he'd like to wake up without somebeast on top of him. At the very least, he'd want to know in advance if somebeast planned on thrusting into him as he slept, or using his body as a mattress. And yet there he was, lying in the soil, scowling as a hefty monitor lizard snored on top of his body. The monitor lizard squashed between earth and scales snarled as he jerked himself upwards, knocking the other lizard off. Then he groaned as he sluggishly got to his knees. The light brown monitor lizard with black scales on his back looked left and saw some Guosim soldiers whispering amongst themselves as they sharpened their weapons. To his right, however, were several lizards laughing, fornicating, or devouring flesh nonchalantly. The monitor lizard stuck his tongue out for a moment as he hissed and approached the lizards munching on flesh. He kicked one of them in the side of his head and snarled.

"And why aren't you checking the perimeter?"

The other monitor lizard snarled. "Look around, Varan! No need to! We have plenty o' monitorz, pluz all theze other tazty reptilez and shrewz to 'elp uz!"

"I don't care. That'z how the enemy zneakz up on uz. They're gonna zee a buncha fat, nazty monitorz zleepin' an' fuckin' an' they're gonna ambush uz before we know it!"

The other lizard scoffed and waved Varan away. "You paranoid. Fuck off an' let uz finish our mealz!"

Before the lizard could bite down into the meat, Varan slapped it away, and then grabbed the other lizard by his throat. He squeezed so tightly the other lizard had no time to squeal; Varan brought the lazy subordinate close to his snout and hissed against his nostrils.

"You will check the perimeter, Eschelle. Now. Or I will flay you alive."

It was all he needed to say. The other lizards sitting around the campfire suddenly looked at Eschelle like he was fried meat. Eschelle gulped; Varan knew that his so-called 'friends' would turn on him should his body turn into another snack for them. Varan shoved Eschelle back so hard the other monitor grunted and bumped into a tree. Eschelle nodded.

"O-okay, okay! No need to get phyzical; I'll-I'll go check. Alla you, come with me."

One lizard protested. "But we're ztill--"

"NOW!"

Varan watched as the other five lizards who were sitting around Eschelle groaned and stood up. He waited until they gathered their spears, slings, and bows and arrows and left. Then Varan huffed as he rubbed his forehead again and walked towards the river. Frustrated, the monitor shoved his way through several bushes before he stood beside the rushing waters. Varan got on his knees and leaned down, sticking half of his muzzle into the crisp, untainted water so he could take in several mouthfuls. It wasn't until he finished slurping that he noticed a shrew with a blue headband on was glaring at him. He turned away at the last second and drank from his mug of shrewbeer. Varan blinked, drank more water, and then flicked his eyes over at the shrew again. Hmph, he thought. There was no need to put up for this. Varan snorted as he stomped over to the shrew and sniffed.

"Zomething wrong?" Varan asked.

The shrew looked up at Varan and raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"You keep looking at me. Iz zomething the matter?"

For some reason or another, the shrew scoffed and turned away. He drank more of his shrewbeer and gulped, pretending like Varan wasn't even there.

"Ye c'n leave now."

"Not until you tell me what your problem iz."

"Me problem is that the big ol' lizard standin' next t'me is assaultin' me nostrils wif' his breath. I'd appreciate it if he backed away a few feet."

Varan clenched his right paw into a fist. "I'm not like them."

The shrew glanced at Varan and smirked. He finished his shrewbeer, stood up, and looked at Varan from head to toe.

"Hmm...big ol' monitor, eats flesh, speaks with Zs instead o' Ss like regular beasts...you sure do seem like all them other lizards."

Varan hissed. "Hmm...fat shrew, drinks too much beer, haz a butchered accent...you sure do zeem like all them other shrewz az well."

The shrew folded his arms and sniffed. "Guess so."

Varan grinned. "It weren't my idea to approach your li'l clan."

"Don't matta. Yer here now, an' ever since ye showed up, everythin's gone ta shit."

The conversation was already heading in a direction Varan wasn't aiming for. His tongue flicked out his mouth as he suddenly got to the point.

"We're not matez. We won't ever be matez. But neither of uz iz rezponzible for our current predicament. Zo there should be no reazon for either of uz to have a grudge againzt one another. What matterz iz that we're part...hmmmm, alliez now. An' what do alliez do?"

"They dun' eat each other, fer starters."

"Yez, but what elze?"

The shrew huffed. "Why dont'cha just tell me since I know ya wanna."

"They work together, obviouzly. They put their differenzez and appearanzez azide zo they can accomplish all their goalz. That iz what you want, iz it not?"

The shrew rubbed his head and sniffed. "All I want is fer Benrath to be okay, an' t'figure out wot the fuck's been goin' on these past couple weeks. How c'n I accomplish this 'goal' when my leader--"

"That'z not yer burden, nor iz it mine. We're zoldierz, nothin' more. We do what we're ordered, and we don't azk queztionz. Onze you realize that, alla thiz," said Varan, waving his paws around to show off all the lizards and shrews around him, "becomez zo much eazier to deal with. An' zince we're alliez now, we will help each other get through thiz."

The shrew didn't smile or reply. Varan grinned slowly as he listened to the water flowing down the river and a few birds flapping their wings in the distance. The shrew rubbed his nose and nodded.

"What'z your name, shrew?"

"Kallin. Wot's yers?"

"Varan Dylwort."

Kallin let out a strange grunting noise. He blinked and sniffed, then turned and walked away. "I'll be seein' ya, Varan."

There was no answer from the monitor lizard. He just thumped his tail against the dirt as he watched Kallin walk away. Varan chuckled as he rubbed his chin and started to ponder.

---

The corpulent shrew exhaled as he sat back in his chair, his belly distended so much that his kilt and undergarments looked like they would rip from his massive girth. Log-a-Log licked the meat juices from his lips while Krassak finished slurping up the rest of his wine. The lizard swallowed hard and exhaled, while Log-a-Log laughed and scratched his groin.

"Rrrf! Damn good meal there, lizard! Dun' think I've ever used that kinda meat before!"

Krassak hissed. "Lotta beaztz don't eat the meat my monitorz eat."

Log-a-Log licked his fingers clean, knowing it was better if he didn't ask where Krassak got the meat from. Once he finished, the boisterous shrew leaned forward and rubbed his paws together.

"Been thinkin'...y'know, we just had an exquisite meal just now! But none o' ya lizards or other reptiles got t'have any o' it!"

Krassak shrugged. "And yer point iz?"

"Well...I do got a map o' this forest. I know everybeast 'round these parts! Nobeast so much as passes gas without me knowin' 'bout it! There's no need fer alla us to hunt down me son and his bothersome cohorts; ye got plenty o' lizards ta do that! But we're more'n well-equipped to begin our li'l...invasion? That wot ye wanna call this?"

"'Raze' is a better definition."

"Ahhhh, yes...razing!" The Shrew Chieftain giggled as he stood up from his chair and began to pace back and forth slowly, his stomach sloshing with each step he took.

"Did you have a location in mind?"

"Ohhhh, I dunno," the Chieftain said, shrugging. "Jus' a li'l camp...settlement mainly. It's not a huge community, but big enough fer anybeast t'know 'bout it, to head there for 'rehabilitation,' as they call it."

Krassak leaned forward and hissed. "Go on."

"This community is filled with cunts. Lots an' lotsa useless cunts ruinin' me rivers. It's a...kinda like a retreat females go to who don't got a home. Females who need a place to stay. Females who--"

"A female's shelter, Chieftain?"

Log-a-Log laughed and snapped his fingers. "Aye lad! A female's shelter--I lost the word fer a second! Anyways, this female's shelter is in me way. This female's shelter is full of 'fresh food' fer yer lizards to eat. And it's full of wretched cunts fer yer lizards t'stick their cocks into. Or rub their cunts against other cunts--that's-that's how cunt-lickers have sex, aye? They just rub 'em shits together?"

Krassak blinked. "Yez, amongzt other thingz. What'z yer point?"

"Simple! We attack this female's shelter! We burn it down, take a third as our slaves, kill the other third, use the final third to fuel yer army's bellies!"

"Why not juzt kill 'em all and uze 'em all fer food?"

"Bah, ya ain't thinkin' outside the box, lizard! Females are s'posed t'serve us males; that's their place in this world. The females in this shelter need to be 'reminded' that they exist so they c'n give us more sons, so they c'n make us food, so they c'n wash our clothing."

Krassak chuckled. "An' they need to be reminded to lay ztill when we fuck 'em, right?"

Log-a-Log spat on the floor and snorted. "I'd rather cut me own cock off 'afore I stick it in some cunt!"

Krassak grinned widely as he folded his arms. "You zeem to have a zertain 'attitude' towardz femalez. A rather strange attitude."

"Hmph! All I know is if'n ya ain't got a cock an' balls, yer worthless. It's our duty t'remind these females their place in life, is it not?"

"Zo...bottom line iz we destroy thiz shelter fer both our benefitz."

"Precisely! I will personally go on ahead an' enter this shelter, greet 'em, get 'em ta lower their guards. Then I'll signal yer troops fer when it's time to attack, and I'll sabotage their defenses from within! If we attack 'em head-on, we'll be up against o'er twoscore beasts, prob'ly more."

It only took Krassak a couple of seconds before he was on board with Log-a-Log's plan. After the obese shrew finished, Krassak stood up and wagged his tail. "I'll inform my troopz of yer planz. You juzt get uz there az quickly az pozzible."

Before Krassak could walk out Log-a-Log's hut, the shrew cleared his throat and grabbed the monitor's shoulder. Krassak turned around and hissed gently at him.

"What?"

"Since I brought it up before...have yer reptiles found me son an' his gang o' thieves yet?"

Growling, Krassak shook his head. "Ilyan reported back to uz, zaid they were headin' northeazt. Az much az I'd love t'roazt him over a fire, my znakez can't zcout around theze woodz like birdz can."

"Did he sound off ta ye?"

Krassak shrugged. "Prolly waz juzt zcared of bein' around my army."

Log-a-Log rubbed his chin and grumbled. "Send some o' ye troops northwest too, just in case. Wouldn't be surprised if'n he lied to ye."

"Already did. Ztill got znakez wanderin' around there too. It shouldn't--"

"Just tell 'em to hurry the fuck up, awright? The sooner my son's dead, the better!"

Krassak's tongue flicked out his mouth. "Why? Yer zon got a big mouth, Chieftain? Hehehe, I'm sure you know all about how big hiz maw can get."

Log-a-Log scowled. "Shut ye fuckin' mouth."

"Rowgat told me all about what you did to yer zon that night...didn't know you two had such a zpecial 'bond.' Are you alwayz on top, or do you two--"

Log-a-Log reached for his rapier, which prompted Krassak to do the same for his weapon. He grinned. "Liabilitiez. Can't have thoze when yer ruler of this forezt. Zurely zomebeazt az zmart and rezourzeful az you should know that. Juzt becauze you only have one tiny weed growin' in your garden don't mean nobeazt elze iz gonna zpot it. All it takez iz one tiny, inzignificant weed to ruin yer perfect garden. Pull it out."

Log-a-Log scoffed. "That's the thing, lizard. Pull out one weed, then ye gots whole 'notha batch o' 'em messin' up yer garden!"

"Zo find the zourze of theze weedz and destroy it. Or it won't be long before you ain't got a garden at all."

Krassak Ralfur lowered his guard and smiled. Then he turned and walked outside the hut, leaving Log-a-Log by himself to ponder. Fuck do he know, the shrew thought. Log-a-Log paced back and forth again, muttering to himself as he plotted. Krassak kept going on and on about gardens and weeds, yet failed to mention how he owned an orchard that undermined Log-a-Log's puny garden. And there was nothing Log-a-Log could do but sit there and watch as everybeast fawned over Krassak's beautiful orchard while his was ignored. Log-a-Log leaned against the wall and sniffed. And then a sly smirk came on his face. Yes, he had a bunch of weeds growing in his garden. And yes, Krassak's orchard clearly looked better than Log-a-Log's garden.

There was no reason why he shouldn't be able to pull out the weeds and burn down Krassak's orchard.

---

"We're waitin', Dirtfoot. Explain!" Kurwin shouted.

Murmurs erupted from the crowd of vermin. He knew he was trapped; there was no way around it. All he could do now was spin the story his way, pray that everybeast sided with him. So Dirtfoot took a few small breaths, and then he sniffled.

"See? This is wot he does! This is wot he-he's always been doin'! Don't matter if we do wot he says or-or follow his rules an' shit! All he cares about is control an' power, an' he'll backstab or murder any a' us if we're in his way!"

Kurwin shrugged. "I don't deny that."

"As I expected! How long is it gunna be 'afore--"

"Dirtfoot, you still haven't answered. Why the fuck d'you say Kurwin an' Trae were already dead?"

Dirtfoot glared at Stinkfoot and the other creatures surrounding him. Then he snarled at Kurwin, who was leaning against one of the trees with a large smirk on his face.

"'Cos...'cos I tried ta kill 'em, awright?! Ya fuckers happy now?!"

More gasps and murmurs rose from the crowd. Various beasts started to pull out their weapons, ready to draw blood from the rat. Dirtfoot backed away; he reached down and grasped his cutlass as well. For a moment, he thought somebeast would come along and try to defend him. Maybe somebeast would agree; maybe somebeast would stick up for him. But nearly everybeast in the crowd was barring their teeth at him or approaching him, ready to cut his head off.

"Fucker."

"Shoulda just killed ya a long time ago!"

"I say we cut out his entrails an' hang 'im from the trees! Let the crows have a go at 'im!"

Despite everything that was happening, it was Kurwin, of all beasts, who saved Dirtfoot. He held up a paw and stepped forward, and some of the clamoring beasts quieted down at their captain's requests.

"Now, now, let's not be uncivilized here!" Kurwin said. He glared at Dirtfoot and grinned. "Let Dirtfoot speak."

Stinkfoot snarled. "Wot for?! This turncoat just admitted--"

"Shut up, Stinkfoot," barked Kurwin, before laughing. "Keep goin', Dirtfoot. Everybeast is waitin'!"

The rat glared at Kurwin again and noticed he was still grinning confidently. Fuckin' twat, Dirtfoot said inwardly. He knew he had him. He knew he was a dead beast. Kurwin was just toying with him, taking pleasure in knowing that the rat's head would soon be on a pike. Dirtfoot breathed heavily as he looked at all the other pirates glaring at him, either growling or seconds away from attacking him with their vicious weapons. And yet, Dirtfoot still tried to keep calm. There had to be a way out of this; something had to happen to make this work in Dirtfoot's favor.

"...I had to," said Dirtfoot, trying to sound sympathetic. "He...he's gon' be the death o' us! Ye all know that! Everybeast in-in this crew knows it! So yes, I-I tried ta kill 'im! Had to kill Traegar too; ye all know their bond is inseparable! So-so I plotted. And-and...and I told m'self, 'Dirtfoot, stop bein' a useless cunt! Show this crew yer balls an-an' take action!' So I did. I...it was an accident--collateral damage! I, um...I stole one of Sheeka's potions, poisoned some wine. Ishlin..."

Dirtfoot scratched the back of his head awkwardly while a ferret scowled at him.

"You son of a bitch. You killed Ishlin, didn't you?"

Dirtfoot scoffed. "Like I said, collateral damage! Not like anybeast gon' miss that drunk fuck anyhow! Point is, I tried ta kill 'im, it went south! Tried ta kill 'im again, went south again! So now here we are! ...Ye all know why I did it--no, why it has to be done! Don't ya see? With Kurwin gone, we'll-we'll be free! We'll be able t'do wotever the fuck we wanna do! We-we c'n go back out ta sea! We...isn't that wot ye all want?"

"Not if'n it means slayin' Kurwin, ya dumb cunt," Kronno snarled.

Dirtfoot stammered. He backed away from the crowd slowly, not noticing the fluids that were staining his trousers and running down his legs. Kurwin glared at the dirty rat before he exhaled with annoyance.

"You done now?"

Dirtfoot gazed at Kurwin's sly, overconfident smirk again. His left eye twitched, and Dirtfoot felt something inside of him snap. Before anybeast could take action, Kurwin rubbed his forehead and grabbed his cutlass with his right paw.

"Get yer cutlass out. I'm fed up with all this shit."

Dirtfoot did as he was told, gritting his teeth and nearly foaming at the mouth, his fear now replaced with rage.

"Cap'n, wot're ye doin'?! Jus' execute--"

"No," said Kurwin, interrupting Kronno. "I'm fed up with all this secrecy, all this gabble o' mutiny, all these whispers an' plottin' behind me back! So...we're gonna settle this properly! A duel between me an' Dirtfoot! Whichever beast comes out alive is the new captain of this crew, no questions asked!"

Kurwin knew clamoring and protests would ensue from everybeast. Dirtfoot grinned widely as he stared at his foe, then spat on the ground and approached the ferret. He drowned out all the other pirates screaming and protesting; he knew everybeast wanted to execute him right on the spot. But that didn't matter. Nothing else mattered. All he knew was that Kurwin had to die. Today.

"Guess ye do got some stones left in ya. I'm surprised," Dirtfoot said.

Kurwin grabbed his hatchet with his left paw. "You truly are the dumbest beast in this crew. Even if I lose--which I won't, d'ye really think anybeast will let that stand? As soon as I'm dead, Traegar, Kronno, Stinkfoot, any one o' them beasts o'er there is gonna put you down 'afore you got time ta blink. You've lost, Dirtfoot. Least have the brains to admit that much."

Dirtfoot spat on the ground again. "Fuck you! If I end up in Hellgates today..."

Dirtfoot snarled as he jogged towards Kurwin, sword raised.

"YER COMIN' WITH ME!"

Steel clashed against steel, and everybeast in Kurwin's crew grew quiet. Kurwin took a few steps backwards while Dirtfoot attacked first, attacking high before aiming for his stomach. The rat raised his paw, and Kurwin ducked and swiped at Dirtfoot's legs. The rat yelped and nearly tripped, giving Kurwin time to charge forward. He swung his cutlass, then his hatchet, and then grunted when Dirtfoot jabbed his cutlass forward. Kurwin dodged the jab attack swiftly, only to shout when Dirtfoot immediately crouched and swiped at Kurwin's left leg. Bleeding, Kurwin backed away again and tossed his hatchet at Dirtfoot. Instinctively, Dirtfoot lifted his paws and blocked the weapon, giving Kurwin enough time to run forward so he could slice Dirtfoot's arm. Dirtfoot howled as his arm began to bleed, while Kurwin just smirked at him.

"Yer move," he taunted.

There was no point in playing his games. Dirtfoot snarled as he sprinted forward, swinging his cutlass haphazardly in hopes of catching Kurwin off-guard. The ferret backed away slowly, checking his footing and making sure he didn't step on anything that would trip him. Each time the blades clanged, Kurwin would wince and his grip would loosen more and more. For a moment, Dirtfoot thought he saw Kurwin wincing, as if he was about to drop his weapon. Before that could happen, Kurwin rolled out of the way and swung his sword sideways, nearly cutting at the rodent's kidney. Breath exploded out of Dirtfoot's mouth as he looked over his shoulder and spotted the fallen hatchet. He sprinted for it and snatched it off the ground, just as Kurwin got close to him and nearly cut his head in half. Dirtfoot yelped and jerked his head backwards before he snarled and swung the hatchet forward, causing Kurwin to go on the defensive. All of the other pirates kept watching the spectacle with bated breath, waiting to see when one of the beasts would make a mistake.

"We gotta help him," Stinkfoot murmured.

Traegar held Stinkfoot back with his right arm and shook his head. "He'll be fine."

Dirtfoot panted as he chased after the ferret, watching as he jumped and moved backwards, refusing to attack the rodent. He swung his cutlass twice; Kurwin ducked twice. He swung the hatchet vertically three times, and each time Kurwin sidled out the way. Frustration brewed over Dirtfoot's mind, and he screamed as he jumped up and tried to drive the hatchet into Kurwin's skull. Kurwin exhaled as he backed away, grunting when he found himself pressed against a tree. Dirtfoot grinned as he stomped towards Kurwin and swung the hatchet. He expected to drive the hatchet into Kurwin's skull. Instead, it created a deep, wooden thunk as the blade sank into the tree. Dirtfoot frowned as Kurwin grinned and approached him. Gritting his teeth, Dirtfoot jerked his arm as he grasped the handle, but the hatchet didn't come free. The rat swore and ran backwards as Kurwin attacked him again. Footwork went against Dirtfoot; the rat panted and kept walking backwards as he defended himself, not paying attention to the roots sticking out of the ground. He tripped over a few of them and grunted; Kurwin ran forward and swung his sword low. Dirtfoot shouted as he rolled out the way, and the ferret's weapon cut the roots in half.

"Put yer sword down, Dirtfoot," Kurwin huffed. "I'll make it simple--"

Kurwin shouted when Dirtfoot charged forward and tried to thrust his sword into his stomach. More clanging ensued before Dirtfoot sprinted towards the hatchet again and tried to remove the weapon. He knew how to catch Kurwin off-guard; this would all work out if Kurwin played right into his trap. Frustrated, Dirtfoot chucked his cutlass at Kurwin's face, and the ferret shouted as he dropped to the ground. The rat sprinted forward just as Kurwin was about to stand on his footpaws again. Dirtfoot made it seem like he was going for the fallen sword, prompting Kurwin to step over it. Dirtfoot crouched down and tried to pick it up, but Kurwin kicked it away and grinned at his foe. And then screamed when Dirtfoot removed a hidden knife from his back pocket and thrust it into Kurwin's abdomen. Relief washed over Dirtfoot. For such a long time, he thought about killing Kurwin and taking over his crew, and now it was finally going to happen. He couldn't help but grin in Kurwin's face as he gripped the knife tightly, feeling some of the pirate's blood oozing onto his fingers.

Kurwin lifted his cutlass again, but Dirtfoot grabbed his arm, and the two beasts grunted as they stood in place and wrestled over the lethal sword. Using his other paw, Dirtfoot removed the knife and tried to stab Kurwin again, but Kurwin grabbed Dirtfoot's wrist and dug his claws into his skin. Wincing, Dirtfoot's grip loosened, and the rat head-butted Kurwin, causing him to back away. Kurwin's grip on his sword loosened as well, and Dirtfoot immediately retrieved it and slashed at Kurwin's chest. The ferret screamed again as his tunic ripped and the blade tore through his fur and skin. Panting, the ferret ran over and picked up the cutlass that had been dropped earlier, and then hollered when Dirtfoot tackled him down a hill. Both vermin grunted as they tumbled a few feet and scratched up their bodies. Kurwin grunted as he slammed head first into a log while Dirtfoot screamed when he ended up stabbing himself just above his right thigh. It was only a scratch, he told himself. Dirtfoot grunted and removed the bloody knife from his flesh as he started to look for Kurwin again.

A beast roared ferociously behind Dirtfoot, and before he could attack Kurwin, the ferret was already latched to his back. Hot breath blasted against Dirtfoot's left ear as Kurwin opened his mouth. Saliva ran into the rodent's filthy, wax-crusted ear as Kurwin bit down hard. And then Dirtfoot screeched as he lost half his hearing altogether. He could feel all the warm fluids running down the side of his head, and he knew at least part of his ear--if not half of it--was missing now. The screaming rat turned around, just in time for Kurwin to spit the remains of his ear into his face. Dirtfoot shouted as he swung at Kurwin violently, waiting for the old beast to falter. He had been stabbed and slashed; he was bound to make a mistake sooner or later. Then he saw it: Kurwin stumbled backwards. Dirtfoot let out a bloody cry as he lunged forward again and swung his sword at Kurwin's head. His blade only sliced through air.

While Kurwin ducked and swiftly jammed his cutlass into Dirtfoot's fat stomach. Dirtfoot's eyes widened as he felt the massive blade pierce his stomach, slicing right through some of his organs and emerging from his back. Saliva exploded from his mouth, and the rat wheezed as fat, blood, and even small traces of bile started to leak from his wound. Fucker, Dirtfoot thought. Still gripping his sword, Dirtfoot sliced at Kurwin's face, and the captain shouted as the rat placed another ghastly scar on his already battered head. Kurwin fell to the ground and didn't get up while Dirtfoot fell to his knees and started to breathe heavily. He dropped his cutlass and grabbed the handle of the sword sticking out of his torso. Grunting and whimpering, he slowly started to pull it out, gasping and coughing as the blade continued to tear through his flesh. He had just finished removing the cutlass with a soft squelch when Kurwin was back on top of him. The vermin shouted and snarled at each other, wrestling around and clawing at each other's faces as they tried to subdue one another.

One moment, Kurwin was on top, snarling and salivating, digging his thumbs against Dirtfoot's eyes. The next Dirtfoot was on top, pressing his knee down on Kurwin's stab wound so he could hear him scream. He punched him several times before Kurwin reached over and grasped a small amount of dirt. He chucked it up into Dirtfoot's face, blinding him as the soil got into his eyes. He used the brief moment of relief to snatch Dirtfoot's right paw so he could bite down on his fingers. Dirtfoot only winced at first, and then screamed when he heard multiple pops and jerked his paw upwards, sans three fingers. There was nothing the rat could do but exclaim as he looked at his deformed paw and the blood gushing from where his fingers used to be. Kurwin silenced him with a swift punch to his gut, and the rat toppled backwards when Kurwin shoved him off. Gurgling and coughing up blood, Dirtfoot gradually rolled back over onto his belly. He could see the fallen weapons still lying on the ground, not far from reach.

"No...ya fuckin' cunt..." Dirtfoot grunted as he dragged himself forward with his left arm. "Mine...crew's mine," he snarled.

He didn't seem clear in the head anymore. If he had been, he would've noticed that Kurwin was already up and had already retrieved his cutlass.

"Nobeast...nobeast will get...in my--"

Dirtfoot grunted when Kurwin impaled him in the back. The ferret scowled as he saw the blood spreading around the ground and the rodent's back. He spat on the beast's corpse before removing the blade and dragging his footpaws along the dirt. Kurwin retrieved the other cutlass and Dirtfoot's knife before he sluggishly climbed back up the hill. As he moved, more blood ran down his face, and the wound in his abdomen continued to worsen. Some of the red fluids were staining his trousers, and the captain was struggling to see straight. He limped slightly as he moved, but there was no need to pay attention to it. Once Kurwin was back uphill, he coughed up some blood and staggered towards the tree where his hatchet was. He grabbed the handle and jerked his paw backwards multiple times until the wood cracked and broke. The hatchet slipped free, and the ferret nearly fell down after reclaiming it. He turned to face his crew and saw them all staring at him with wide eyes.

"CAPTAIN!" somebeast shouted.

Instinctively, Kurwin turned and slid to his right, mere seconds before Dirtfoot had the chance to impale him with a thick, broken stick that had a pointed end. He didn't know how Dirtfoot was still alive, or why he didn't just lie still and bleed out. The ferret rectified that when he sliced open Dirtfoot's torso, revealing some of his innards. Dirtfoot howled as more fluids began to spill out of his gut, and then went deathly silent after hearing a meaty thunk. The rat grunted and moved his wide eyes around, determined to discover the source of the strange noise. He saw something obscuring his vision but didn't know what it was. Still in shock, Dirtfoot reached up and tried to pry Kurwin's hatchet from his skull. The realization finally sank in when Kurwin removed it for him, exposing part of his skull. And then his head came off completely when Kurwin sliced through Dirtfoot's neck with his cutlass. Kurwin watched as the severed head rolled near his footpaws and the rest of Dirtfoot's body crumbled and leaked more blood into the soil. Smirking, Kurwin picked up the severed head, turned around, and gradually approached his crew.

The air was silent. Nobeast so much as murmured or even cheered after Dirtfoot was decapitated. Several beasts were grinning with delight, but Kurwin couldn't help but notice that something felt off with the other beasts, as if they were holding their tongues. He stood in front of the crowd and tossed the head against the ground, watching as it rolled around and spread more blood against the grass. Then the bleeding ferret rubbed his sweaty, bloody forehead and sniffed.

"I...I know how hard it is," he started. "I know it can be hard, havin' to lissen to some other beast, t'follow in his footsteps, to do everythin' he says without question..."

"Ca-cap'n...you should really get--"

Kurwin held up a paw, signaling Glud to close his mouth. "Communication means everythin'! I am yer leader. I make decisions fer this crew. If you or anybeast else does not agree with my decisions, tell me so! Politely, but please inform me of-of wotever grievances you may have. We will..." Kurwin paused and winced. He panted a few times before he smiled again and continued. "We'll discuss our 'issues' in an orderly manner, until we both come to an agreement. Wot...wot happened here, jus' now, was nothin' more than a result of poor communication. Poor communication kills--that's-that's some sayin', ain't that right? Dirtfoot disagreed with my orders. He refused to..."

Kurwin had to stop himself from falling over. He knew he was still bleeding profusely, but he needed to get his point across.

"He refused...to come to me privately, to talk things out. Instead, the fucker tried to kill me. An' in the process, he killed Ishlin. Muslar...Muslar was the same; he refused to communicate! That's why he was also slain last night. Y'see, this-this lack of communication continued to grow an' grow, and eventually turned into mutiny! Now...I-I know I may seem harsh at times, but trust me: if you have a problem, just tell me! I assure you, we will be able to come up with a solution!"

Kurwin still smiled widely as he kicked Dirtfoot's head. "Except, of course, mutiny. There's only one solution to that problem: execution. So...for the sake of clarity, is there anybeast here who agreed with Dirtfoot and believes that I shouldn't be captain?"

Kurwin slammed his cutlass down, piercing Dirtfoot's skull and brain. His benevolent smile turned into a sinister grin. Everybeast kept quiet or flicked their eyes between Dirtfoot's body and his mutilated head.

"Please! I implore you all to speak up!"

He stabbed the head again, never losing his smile as he looked back and forth between all his crewmates. Nobeast answered.

"Good! Now then, alla ya rest fer today, an' forget about this traitorous filth. We move out tomorrow."

Kurwin kicked Dirtfoot's head one last time before he limped his way to his tent. After he disappeared past the flaps, the bleeding, panting ferret lowered his arms and dropped his hatchet. Traegar rushed inside panting as well.

"Cap'n, the healers are--"

"I don't...I don't need healers," Kurwin whispered.

The pirate's cutlass slipped from his fingers as well. He blinked twice as he approached his cot, leaving a trail of blood on the ground.

"Hah...jus' need s'more grog...an' lotsa sleep...lots..."

Kurwin chuckled as he stared at the cot. And then he collapsed.