Travel Troubles ((Jamie))

[Cross]

((I hate titling threads. . .))

Victiore took a deep breath, eyes gazing out over the great expanse that was the western plains. It seemed to have no end, but the little mouse knew Redwall and Mossflower lay on the other side of the flatlands. Wind whipped at her fur, billowing her travel cloak around her slight frame. She was really going to do this. Really going back to Mossflower. She had to take another deep breath. 

"I'm ready," she told Jamie, the lieutenant standing beside her. "At-at least, I think I am . . ." Are you ready, Vicky? It's not the journey you're worried about. It's what you might find at the destination. Redwall . . . That magnificent and terrifying abbey she'd never dared enter. But she couldn't back out now. She had said her farewells and packed her things. She'd even been given an escort. 

It was time to leave before she lost her nerve. She was being silly, worrying so much. It was her family. If Redwall had let her roaming gypsy family into its doors, she had nothing to worry about. . . Oh, yes she did. What if other beasts thought she looked strange with all her tattoos? What if they cast her out for practicing witchcraft? What if she saw him again? What if . . . What if . . . What if she stopped fretting about it? That would be nice. 

"Um, yes, I am ready," Victiore declared, albeit quietly. She glanced back at the monolithic mountain fortress. And then she set her eyes on the plains once more.

((It's a tad pathetic, but it's late, and I'm tired. XD ))

[Tracy]

As the wind whistled around the ears of the two travelers, Jamie tucked up the hood of his cloak about his neck, but kept his hood down for now. He stood quiet, shouldering his pack that was tucked beneath his large grey cloak. Looking briefly back at the mountain, his ears pivoted at the sound of the little mouse's voice. She seemed nervous. Jamie only assumed it was because of the arduous journey ahead of them. Unaware of Vicky's underlying concerns, he tried to encourage her.

"Oh, don't worry. I've made this trip plenty o' times."

He decided to leave out that the last trip had nearly been the death of him. For both their sakes. The lieutenant had mixed feelings about making this trip. On one hand, a Redwall visit was always a pleasant affair. On the other, Jamie didn't much like leaving Salamandastron at all. And, as reasonable and logical as he was, it was hard to shake the fact that his last trip back from Redwall had nearly killed him. His family had not taken the abrupt news of his departure especially well. His mother had at least attempted to mask her apprehension. Keely, however, after begging him not to leave to no avail, ran off in tears.

Carefully setting those thoughts aside, he looked back at the mousemaid who appeared to still be collecting her nerves. When she declared she was ready –although it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Jamie- he nodded. "Let's get as much o' the plains behind us while we've light t'see by. We aren't travelin' at night in this weather." They shouldn't travel at ALL in this weather, especially if it wasn't an emergency, but it wasn't in Jamie to question an order from his Badger Lord.

[Cross]

"Let's get as much o' the plains behind us while we've light t'see by. We aren't travelin' at night in this weather."

Victiore nodded agreement, remembering her first trip across the plains. Daylight was the best time to travel. The little mouse took one more deep breath and started to walk, her hare friend close by. In all honesty, Vicky was elated to have somebeast traveling with her. It would help her keep calm about what lay at the end of the trip.

A few snow flurries tumbled through the air, reminding her that this wasn't the best season to be traveling. Nonetheless, here she was. Because this might be the only chance she'd get to see her family again. At least for a long time. She would be devastated if she missed them.

Trying to avoid more negative thoughts at the beginning of the trip, she glanced over at Jamie. "What's . . . What's Redwall like?" she asked, hoping for a light conversation.

(Sorry. It's kinda short.)

[Tracy]

The transition from the shoreline around the mountain to the plains was a bit rocky and rough on the footpaws, but it was only a small patch. One or two areas required a bit of a climb, an easy task for an athletic hare, but a bit more of a challenge for a small mousemaid. Although he could've easily lifted her over the small rocky cliffs, Jamie instead just gave her a paw of assistance, especially since the icy conditions made the rocks a bit easier to slide off than usual.

But once they were past that, it was nothing but snowy plains as far as the eye could see. The wide grasslands made for a boring, tedious journey on the most beautiful of spring days, but with a blanket of white covering the landscape, it was downright mind-numbing. They had days of this ahead of them.

"What's . . . What's Redwall like?"

Jamie looked over as he fidgeted with the hood of his cloak a bit more. "Oh, you'll love Redwall," he said confidently. "So much so, I'm worried you'll end up stayin' there instead." Smiling, he gave her a quick wink before continuing. "Everybeast at Redwall is warm an' kind... less o' the loud an' boisterous you might've noticed around us. They're peaceful beasts after all. All the Redwallers have their own tasks t'keep busy... cookin', cleanin', gardenin', watchin' over Dibbuns. Everybeast keeps things runnin' smoothly, yet somehow no matter who you ask, they seem to have the time t'spare for you."

He put his paws up to his mouth for a moment, rubbing them for warmth as an icy gust of wind whipped around them. There was almost no substantial vegetation on the plains, which meant practically nothing to break up the frigid winter wind. Traveling across the plains meant utter exposure to the elements.

"An' you can never say too much about Redwall food," he added. "The very best fare Salamandastron drums up can't even compare to an ordinary supper at the abbey." Jamie shook his head a bit. "I won't go into detail, no need t'make this trip feel even longer than it will."

[Cross]

". . . Everybeast keeps things runnin' smoothly, yet somehow no matter who you ask, they seem to have the time t'spare for you."

"That sounds lovely," Victiore murmured, smiling a little. Her smile widened as Jamie went on to describe the food. The little mouse already thought Salamandastron's food was divine, after living off what she could forage on her own. It was hard to imagine something several times better. Her worry began to dissolve a bit into eager anticipation. Redwall . . .

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe, while visiting her family, she could help in the gardens. She'd always wanted to have a garden to tend to. Slipping her hood over her ears, the mousemaid watched her breath float away in misty clouds. Perhaps the gardens wouldn't be exactly flourishing this time of year. Besides, this was only going to be a short visit. She could find other ways to repay the abbey dwellers for housing her during her stay.

As the travelers trekked through the snow, the day slowly darkened to evening. Victiore had wanted to chat a little more while they walked--and when they stopped for lunch--but she'd found she needed to save her breath for making her way through the white powder, which was piled up almost to her knees. She couldn't feel her nose very well anymore, to the point where she feared it was no longer on her face.

She was grateful when they stopped for the night. Mercifully, the wind had died down enough for them to make a fire. It took the tiny mouse all of six minutes to catch her breath. At least they'd be warm tonight. Wordlessly, she began preparing their dinner. Movement beyond the firelight caught her eye, but she ignored it. Until an arrow embedded itself into the snow right in front of her.

Forcing down a shriek, Victiore cried, "Jamie!" as she fumbled for her dirk. Unfortunately, the short blade wasn't in her belt, but in her bag, which was not right next to her. Oh, Winter's Ice . . . Two dark figures materialized a few yards away from the camp, one held a longbow, the other a sling. Vicky distinguished the angular, slender faces of foxes. She didn't like foxes . . .

"Well," the one with the sling said. "Aren't you two the odd couple?"

Victiore froze where she knelt, green eyes wide in the light of the fire. Um, Jamie . . . Help?

[Tracy]

Jamie kept a careful eye on the mousemaid as she trekked through the snow, wanting to make sure she never grew too cold. The snow on the ground was enough of an annoyance to him, so it had to be downright unpleasant for the smaller beast. Along the way, he came across a fallen branch amidst one of the few patches of trees on the plains. During a short breather for the two, he cut up the branch and trimmed it smooth, creating walking sticks for both of them, sized to fit. Normally hiking sticks weren't something he bothered with over the plains, but with the snow, he thought it a decent precaution. It could help discover unknown dips or hidden rocks beneath the icy powder.

When they finally stopped for the night, Jamie immediately went about clearing their space to start a fire. Firewood was hard to come by, and the small collection was more rush than wood and hard to light from the dampness. Jamie knew this was going to be an issue beforehand, and he'd brought along small bits of extremely dry twigs to help get a fire going. Their fire wouldn't be large or impressive, but enough to heat water with and have a bit of warmth. He wasn't sure it would last the night, though.

As Victiore prepared a meal, Jamie tended to the fire, nursing it carefully until it was strong enough not to be snuffed out by a stray gust of wind. Once he was confident the flame would hold its own, he got up and worked on clearing the ground some more, making a clear, dry space for them to bed down. It had been a long time since Jamie travelled, and his guard had been down. Before... well, before, Jamie would've instantly heard footsteps treading through snow. That it took the thrum of a bowstring and a mousemaid's shouts to alert him of danger was unacceptable.

But he reacted instantly. In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet, standing in front of Vicky with his saber drawn. The flickering of the nearby fire made him a bit night-blind, so he adjusted himself so he could get a good look at the two troublemakers. Foxes. Jamie wasn't fond of foxes either. They were as vile and scummy as the rest of the vermin, but many seemed unfortunately gifted with a hint of cleverness their peers largely lacked.

"Can we help you two?" he asked, firmly but not unkindly. "We'd be more'n happy t'share our food an' fire. But you best lower your weapons."

"Or what?" the one with the sling said, apparently the leader of the two. The other fox only gave a pluck of his bowstring as he leered at Vicky. Jamie elected not to answer the fox's question, so the vermin went on. "I think we'll be taking all yer food. We're ter'ble hungry, ain't we?"

The other fox gave another pluck of the taut bowstring, smiling his agreement.

[Cross]

Victiore hadn't faced a vermin in more than a season. (Well, she'd been around Dr. Black, but he wasn't necessarily a vermin . . .) The mousemaid found her heart rate rising dramatically more than it should have as Jamie had a less-than-cordial conversation with the lead fox. Fortunately, she recovered enough sense to begin inching towards her bag, which lay just out of her reach.

The bowbeast noticed her movement and got ready to send another arrow her way. This time, he aimed somewhere more damaging, but he didn't shoot yet. His partner noticed, as well, and chuckled. Vicky paused, ears flat against her skull, eyes on the vermin.

"Need somethin', mousey?" the lead fox asked darkly. "I'm awful sorry, but whatever 'tis, we'll have t' take it off yore paws." Mind racing, the little mouse tried to think of some way to get her dirk and avoid getting skewered at the same time.

"Oh, I, it-it's just th-that . . ." Then an idea hit her. "We d-don't have much in-in the way o-of food, really. We--that is, it's only s-some dried up herbs and-and such." The fox scoffed, his gaze alternating between the armed hare and the stuttering mouse.

"Funny, Longears here di'n't seem t'mind sharin'," the vermin remarked. Vicky looked up at Jamie, biting her lip nervously.

"I, well, he just wants to, um, s-settle things peacefully, be-before violence," she stammered. Jamie, please play along, she thought desperately. "He's m-my apprentice, er, helper, really. S-sometimes gets ahead of himself. B-but, what I was about to say was, I do have something of value . . . A bracelet. I-it's silver. Worth more than--than our food. It's in my bag . . ."

"We don't want yore pritty bracelet, mouse," the fox snapped. "Hand over th' food, or Grimm here shoots ya both full'a arrows." The bowbeast, obviously Grimm, shifted his aim from Vicky to Jamie. Vicky took her chance. Without thinking, she lunged for her bag, grabbing the dirk and spinning around to throw it. A stone from the lead fox's sling stung her shoulder, and she stumbled back.

Suddenly, the wind picked up again, howling across the plains and snuffing out the fire. For a few horrible moments, nobeast could see a thing as their eyes adjusted to the abrupt darkness. Vicky searched desperately for her friend in the dark, moonlit setting. Then she heard the telltale TWANG of a bowstring . . .

[Tracy]

Jamie kept a grip on his saber and a careful eye on everybeast. He grew a bit concerned when Vicky started to suggest they wouldn't give food to the foxes. They probably had enough, and even if the two vermin took all of it, they could turn around and make it back to Salamandastron without too much trouble; they were barely half a day's trip out. He was about to speak up again before the mouse made their situation even worse, but she seemed really determined, so he held his tongue as she went on.

It was clear to him she wanted something from her bag, but the hare wasn't sure what it was. He let the charade go on for a few more moments, right until the one – apparently Grimm – turned his bow to Vicky. Everything at that point happened really fast. When Vicky scrabbled for and threw a small blade – did she really just THROW a dirk?- the sling-wielding fox, startled, lobbed a pebble at the small mousemaid. More concerned about the one with a bow though, Jamie jumped quickly toward him, just before everything went black.

Almost at the same moment as the tell-tale TWANG of the bow, there was a yell of pain. Seconds later there was a swish of metal and the sound of something breaking. The howling of pain continued, but nothing else. "No one move!" It was Jamie's voice in the darkness, sounding more annoyed than distressed.

It took a few more moments for everyone's eyes to adjust to the darkness. As Jamie was began to ascertain the outlines of the others, a cloud moved from in front of a fairly bright moon, bathing them in enough light to see by.

The sling-wielding fox was on the ground, clutching his lower leg, howling in pain. The snow around him was soaked red with blood. Vicky's dirk lay near him. Jamie was a few steps away with Grimm also cowering on the ground, the point of Jamie's sword at his throat, his bow in two pieces. Jamie seemed almost unharmed but for a thin scratch that ran across his cheek up to the corner of his eye. Grimm, startled, had sent his arrow off at the hare coming after him. But having to change aim abruptly, and in sudden darkness had disastrously ruined his shot. His bow had been destroyed before he could even think to string a second arrow.

Without taking his eyes off the fox at the other end of his saber, Jamie called behind him, "Vicky are you all r-" He cursed. "Gods, would you SHUT UP?" he hissed at the screaming fox nearby. It did little to quiet the vermin, who continued on like he was dying. "Vicky?" he asked again. The mousemaid's safety was his priority, then he could figure out what to do about the two would-be bandits.

[Cross]

Vicky actually hadn't meant to throw the dirk. In her mad dash to her bag and her whirl around to face the foxes, she'd lost her grip on the blade. Then, when the slingstone hit her shoulder, the dirk had really been flung from her paw. But that didn't really matter now. She had to resist the urge to scream again as chaos reigned.

"Jamie!" she cried instead, hoping the hare hadn't been at the bad end of Grimm's bow. She saw a dark shape crumple to the ground in the dim light. No! Jamie! Forgetting the slight stinging in her shoulder, the mousemaid regained her balance and rushed to help. The howling the pained beast struck up was enough to make her heart jump into her throat. She skidded to a halt in the snow, paws over her ears, eyes still not adjusted to the dark. Oh, no!

Then the moon came out, and the scene before her eyes was nothing like she'd thought. Jamie had his sword to Grimm's neck, and the sling-owning fox was on the ground in a puddle of blood. Assessing the situation quickly, Vicky decided that Grimm had accidentally shot his partner, and Jamie had avoided the bow. Praise the gods, Jamie was okay! Or, well, he looked okay.

"Vicky?"

"I'm here!" the mousemaid answered from behind the hare. "I'm alright. You're not hurt, are you? I'm so sorry!" Somehow, she associated this sudden catastrophe with her attempt to bargain with the foxes. At least her friend appeared unhurt. If Jamie had been shot, Vicky would never forgive herself.

[Tracy]

"I'm alright. You're not hurt, are you? I'm so sorry!"

Jamie wasn't entirely sure what the mousemaid was apologizing for, but he chanced just a quick glance back to be sure she really was unharmed. He knew she'd been struck by a slung stone, but it didn't seem to do much damage. Flicking an annoyed ear at the howling fox, he spoke to Vicky without looking at her. "Could y'get the sling an' stones away from the bellyacher, Vicky?"

The fox on the other end of his saber was eyeing Jamie with wide, wary eyes. He seemed torn between surprise that he was still alive and terror that he might not be much longer. The young lieutenant gave a twist of his sword, just to keep the vermin fully aware who was in charge here. "So... Grimm was it? What d'ya think I should do with the two o' ya, eh? I'm open t'suggestions."

Grimm shook his head wildly, eyes wide, but he didn't offer Jamie any response. The hare was about to insist on a response, but as he thought for a moment, he realized the fox hadn't said a word since happening upon him and Vicky. "Can you speak?" he asked.

The fox shook his head 'no' quickly. He seemed a bit relieved that the sword-wielding hare had figured that out before taking his head off for insolence. Jamie sighed as the other fox kept carrying on. "It's a pity your friend isn't the mute one."

Grimm only stared at Jamie blankly. Jamie nodded at the fox's quiver. "Toss that away from you so my friend can take that, too," he ordered. Steel still at his throat, the fox quickly obliged, taking the case of arrows around his shoulder and tossing it away from him into the snow.

"Now, we're going to tie you up, see to your injuries, give you one small meal, and have a little chat about your plans for life, all right?"

[Cross]

"Could y'get the sling an' stones away from the bellyacher, Vicky?"

"R-right," the mouse replied, still trying to get her heart rate under control. She located her dirk (it was half-buried in the snow), and approached the injured fox. His sling had fallen from his paw when he'd been shot, so that was easy for her to snatch up. However, the sling stones were kept in a pouch at his belt.

Obviously, a polite, 'excuse me, may I have your sling stones' was not going to work. The fox glared at her as thought trying to cut holes in her slim frame. She held out her dirk in what she hoped was a threatening gesture as she moved slowly around the vermin to take the pouch on his belt. He growled through his pained moans, but he appeared unable to move from something akin to a fetal position. With quick motions--and trying not to think too hard about what she was doing--Vicky sliced through the cords of the pouch and backed off.

"Toss that away from you so my friend can take that, too,"

Vicky turned to see the mute fox tossing his quiver into the snow. She moved over and picked it it up, looking to Jamie for further instructions.

"Now, we're going to tie you up, see to your injuries, give you one small meal, and have a little chat about your plans for life, all right?"

Grimm nodded eagerly, clearly happy to still be alive. Vicky dreaded the thought of having to tend to the mouthy fox, but the sooner the vermin were gone, the better. Unfortunately, the other fox didn't agree with that plan.

"We don' need yore help, rabbit!" he snapped. "That mouse comes near me one more time'n I'll gut the both a' ya!" Vicky gave him a sour look, throwing the weapons down and putting her paws on her hips. She had had just about enough of this guy . . .

"I'd be a lot more grateful to us if I were in your shoes," she reprimanded him. "You should be thankful to my friend that you aren't dead. It's only bad luck you were injured, but we're going to help, even if we don't particularly like you. And we're going to offer you a meal, and a chance to leave here alive."

"Aw, shuddup!" the fox snarled. Vicky crossed her arms huffily and looked over at Jamie again. Her expression clearly read, Do I have to heal him?

[Tracy]

It was less than an hour later and three of the four beasts in the campsite were enjoying a perfectly fine potato and leek soup.

The two foxes were bound together, but Grimm, being the decidedly more compliant of the two, had his paws free so he could sup at his bowl of soup. He also had his palm and wrist wrapped from a minor injury he'd sustained when Jamie's sword had snapped his bow. Jamie watched him carefully, trying to think how best to handle the failed bandit who was now being so acquiescent. It was hard to properly communicate with the fox, given his muteness.

Grimm's companion, however, was not partaking of the hot meal, choosing instead to make ugly faces and scowl at the two. The injury to his leg had finally stopped bleeding, but was turning a few different concerning colors. To help with the pain, the fox had pushed his leg down into the snow to numb it. While initially an okay idea, Jamie couldn't imagine it'd do much for the fox's health for so long.

But feeding and allowing the foxes to live was about as far as the soldier's compassion went. If the mouthy fox wanted to refuse their kindness, Jamie was absolutely not going to insist it upon him. It did, however, make the hare wary of the prospect of letting him loose. From the surreptitious glances the sling-wielding fox was tossing behind his shoulder at Grimm, Jamie knew his hunger was getting the better at him. It was just a waiting game now.

Standing from a log on the ground, Jamie walked to the fire and dipped a bowl into their pot of soup, walking around to the scowling fox. "Last chance, we need t'clean up for the night."

They had a stare-down for a few moments before the fox gave ground. "Fine," he said, still snarling. "But I don't want neither o' yew touchin' me leg."

Jamie nodded. If the fox wanted to get an infection, or worse, that was just his own darn prerogative, wasn't it? The hare withdrew a dagger from his belt, making the fox flinch. The hare hesitated at the reaction, then laughed. "Good, you're right to be afraid o' me, fox. Smart." Jamie knelt and used the dagger to sever the bonds about the fox's wrists, handing him the bowl of soup.

[Cross]

Victiore was both slightly relieved and a little concerned that she hadn't seen after the fox's leg. But, it was his problem if he didn't want any help. At least he'd relented to Jamie's offer of food. The little mouse was silently praying for the spirits to strike the mouthy fox mute like the one called Grimm when she started packing up the supplies.

Glancing around at the snow-laden flatlands, Vicky wondered how in heaven's name she and Jamie were going to keep warm for the next few nights. Of course, they'd brought blankets and bedrolls, and they would hopefully be able to find enough kindling to make a fire, but was it really going to be enough? Hmm . . . Did she know any warmth spells? Would they even work? Probably not, but it couldn't hurt anything. Keeping an eye on the foxes, the mouse dug her journal out of her bag.

Flipping through the pages, she found one incantation she hadn't finished. It was from last winter, when a lone ferret had driven her away from her own camp. Unable to find dry fuel for a fire, she'd resorted to spell-making. Luckily for her, the morning hadn't been far off, so she'd abandoned the spell and gone to find better shelter than the tree she'd been chased up.

Well, what was the harm in trying to finish the spell now? Before she could stop herself, Vicky had grabbed a stick of charcoal and begun to scribble down the last few lines needed. Then she lost her nerve. How was she going to explain incoherent muttering of a (probably useless) incantation to Jamie? It would be so embarrassing. Shutting her journal, the tattooed mouse glanced at her friend, wondering if he'd seen.

"Um, Jamie," she said, remembering the vermin. "It's . . . getting late."

((Sorry for lack of useful dialogue. Hope this is okay.))

[Tracy]

It was the next afternoon and Jamie was visibly tired, but did his best to hide it. With his hood pulled close around his face to block the cold winter wind, it wasn't a hard thing to do.

The previous night, Jamie had stripped the foxes of anything that could possibly be fashioned into a weapon and allowed them to leave. It was against his better judgment, but Jamie truly didn't want to start their trip with having to butcher two hapless criminals. Their thieving days were probably not behind them, but the young lieutenant's task was seeing the Badger Lord's favorite mousemaid safely to Redwall, not handing out justice to roving robbers.

He gave Vicky a brief speech about needing to keep her weapon on her, especially now. He wasn't unkind, just firm. The hare would do everything in his power to keep her safe, but she didn't need to make that even harder. After that, he decided they would sleep in shifts. During this time of the year, he hadn't thought that would be necessary, but the foxes could come back to rob them, or worse, while they were sleeping. But even during Vicky's watch shift, Jamie didn't really sleep, concerned that something could happen when he finally allowed himself to relax.

So that was why he was so tired now. The deeply overcast, cold day did little to wake him up, either. Finally, after a fairly quiet morning of traveling, he thought small-talk might help both of them a bit. "So you brought a journal along, eh?" he said, recalling the book from the evening before. "What did you have t'say about our two pleasant little visitors?" Of course, he assumed the journal was just something she recorded her daily goings-on in. Females liked doing that, right?

[Cross]

Victiore had not been enjoying the sleep shifts very much at all. She wasn't afraid of something happening so much as she was afraid of something happening and it being her fault because she'd been the one on watch. It had only been one night, and her nerves were all but fried. She didn't really sleep even when it had been Jamie's shift.

Today, the only thing she was grateful for was that they were closer to the end of the journey. And the snow seemed to be thinning out as they got further on the plains. That was a good thing.

"So you brought a journal along, eh? What did you have t'say about our two pleasant little visitors?"

Vicky was caught off-guard by Jamie's question, which caused her steps to falter. She managed to keep her footing, and also hide the blush creeping into her face. Oh, Winter's Ice, he had seen!

"Oh, it's, um, I didn't write ab--about that," she stammered. "It was . . . I was . . . just poems." She kept her eyes on the ground. "I wr--write poems. N-not very good, but I . . . enjoy it."

[Tracy]

Jamie looked at her sideways when she was clearly thrown off by his innocent query. Weird. He didn't think anything bad about the little mouse, but some of her reactions to simple things were a bit off. Shyness and uncertainty were understandable on one hand, but when she lost so much momentum with such an easy, innocuous question, he couldn't help but wonder what was going through her head.

But instead of expressing suspicion, Jamie only laughed, holding his paws up disarmingly. "All right, all right. I really don't care a whit if you're keepin' a journal, or writin' poems or listing all the medicinal uses of turnip juice. What difference does it make t'me? I don't care an' neither does anybeast else I'm sure. An' if they did, what of it? Right?" Jamie glanced at her and gave a quick wink. He didn't go on more, not wanting it to seem as if he was lecturing her. The poor mouse seemed to get quite enough of that back at Salamandastron.

Since Vicky didn't seem to want to talk about her journal or her poems of whatever it was, he tried another line of questions, wondering if he'd be met by the same wall of resistance. "So when was the last time y'saw your family?"

[Cross]

"All right, all right. I really don't care a whit if you're keepin' a journal, or writin' poems or listing all the medicinal uses of turnip juice. What difference does it make t'me? I don't care an' neither does anybeast else I'm sure. An' if they did, what of it? Right?"

Vicky bit her lip. Right. Nobeast cares. Of course. She wasn't trying to be defensive, it was just . . . If Jamie knew she was a witch, she'd probably die of embarassment. The only beasts who knew were her family and those two brothers. Her family might care about her writings, but maybe nobeast else did. Maybe he didn't.

She shut her eyes briefly to stop her thoughts from spiraling into an abyss of self-pity and tried to focus on keeping her feet beneath her. The little mouse's mood was quickly going south, but she tried not to show it.

"So when was the last time y'saw your family?"

Oh, good, a nicer question. "Um, almost three years ago," she replied. "It-it feels more like thirty, though." She let a small smile tug on the corners of her mouth. Yes, it had been much too long since she'd seen them.