Coming of Wrath

[Sebias of Redwall]

Author Notes:

So this is just a short Drabble that I made a while ago to get back into the writing spirit. Nothing much really happens here plot wise or anything - it's more of a fluffy Drabble type of thing. And it was basically also a test to see how I could write molespeech. Thanks to Keva and Keldor for proofreading!

Happy reading to you!

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Three mole children ran through a maze of rocky crags that lay in the shadows of the Black Mountains.

Their tribe had lived there for as long as anybeast could remember. Some said that moles had lived inside the Black Mountains since the dawn of time. There was a cold beauty to it. However, the sun outside was shining merrily, the tall grass swaying to the gentle breezes. A trio of young mole babes, Gruffol, Burrclaw and Ruth, decided that things had gotten too boring in the mountain, and it was time to go on an adventure into the great outdoors.

Unlatching one of the unguarded secret doors, they'd snuck out, giggling and whispering to each other in low tones. Shrubbery and rocks crags dotted the land, blue flowers peeking out from the most random of places, just as eager as the young mole beasts to soak in the sun's warmth while it lasted.

"Oi'll catch 'ee!"

"Oo arr! Fat chance! You'm slower than a bumblybee!"

"Ooh! Just 'ee wait!"

"Run, Ruth, run! 'Ee's gonna get 'ee!"

"Hurhur!" the shortest and chubbiest of the trio, Gruffol, wrinkled his nose at his pursuer, a small, pretty lass named Ruth. "'Ee wi'll never catch Oi!"

Ruth surprised her quarry by suddenly giving a burst of extra speed, eating up the precious distance between them. She gave a gruff squeak as her frilly skirt snagged on a rock. Propelling herself forward, she reached out with her small claw and touched Gruffol on the back before she face planted into the dirt.

"Oi got ee!" she cried, lifting her head back up and chuckling. "Hurhur, who'm be farster naow, eh?"

Gruffol groaned. Turning, he looked around, "Where'm be Burrclaw?"

"Help Oi!" a voice called out high above them.

Ruth and Gruffol looked up and saw their friend perched on the tip of one of the highest rocks. Burrclaws' eyes were so tightly shut that his entire face was scrunched up as he clung fearfully to the rock.

"Oi doan't think Oi can get daown!" he groaned. "Oi'm scared."

"Burrclaw, whoi did 'ee climb oop thurr in th' furst place?" Ruth asked.

"Et seemed loike a good idea at th' time."

Gruffol walked around the massive rock, inspecting it. He tapped his chin. "'Ow did 'ee get oop thurr?"

"I dunno! Oi just climbed et!"

"Hmm." Gruffol shot a glance at Ruth. "What should we'm do?" he whispered. "Oi don't think we'm can climb that. Burr no."

The molemaid nodded. "Oi think there is only one thing we'm can do..."

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In the same rocky field as the trio of mole children, a lone badger walked. Nightwrath was his name. He was dressed in a light, brown tunic – a broadsword buckled to his side. Over his back was slung an odd shaped backpack carrying a wide-eyed badger babe.

The massive badger plucked a blue flower from the ground and inhaled its scent. "How are we doing up there, Beth?" he asked aloud, juggling his shoulder lightly as he addressed his daughter. There was a silence from the babe, which was finally interrupted by a burp.

"Sounds good to me." Closing his eyes, Nightwrath let out a relaxed sigh. "A beast can breathe out here," he mumbled. "Everything is nice and open and wide."

Then his left ear twitched, followed by his right. "Hear that, Beth? Sounds like a few beasts in trouble. Hang on." With that, he drew his sword from the scabbard with one quick swoosh, and began to half-run half-jog toward the sounds.

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"Just jump already!" Ruth said, groaning. "You'm takin' forever!"

"Oi don't wanna!" Burrclaw scowled. "Et's much too high. Burr aye."

"But we'm even stacked a cushion for 'ee," Gruffol retorted. "Don't tell uz that we did all that hard work furr nothin'."

Burrclaw cast a skeptical glance at "the cushion" – which consisted of piled grass, clumps of soft dirt, and flowers (Even though some of them had thorns, but Gruffol and Ruth thought it would not be wise to tell their friend about that).

"Et doesn't look safe, burr no!"

"Who'm cares if et's safe?" Gruffol was getting annoyed now. "Just jump! It's yore fault furr climbing oop thurr in the furst place."

Burrclaw opened his mouth to reply, but then –thanks to his elevated perch– the young mole caught sight of a large, strange creature that he had never seen before, running toward them, carrying a bundle on his back and holding a very dangerous and deadly looking sword in his paw.

"Eeeee! Help! Badbeast is coming!" With a wailing cry, the mole infant leapt off the rock, dropping through the air like a solid block of stone, and landed with a thump on the pile beneath him.

The other two young moles turned their heads. Ruth let out a gasp, while Gruffol's jaw dropped. The trio scrambled to their footpaws and began to run back toward the mountain, Gruffol banging head first into a rocky crag in his haste.

Nightwrath's much longer steps proved much quicker and more coordinated than theirs, however.

Ruth yelped. "We'm can't outrun 'im! Hoide!"

She dove behind a scraggly bush as they rounded a rock, to her annoyance, both the other moles dove after her.

"No, dummies! Foind somewhere else!"

"But there is nowhere else!"

"Scoot'm o'er, ye big-"

"Ahem." The three looked up to see the terrifyingly huge form of the badger. Nightwrath coughed again. "Are you children all right?"

"Please don't eat'm uz!" Burrclaw laid face first on the ground, covering his head with his paws. "Oi be too young t' be eated."

"Eat you?" Nightwrath let out a rumbling chuckle. "Of course not. Why would I do that?" He winked. "I already had breakfast - and no," with one paw, he picked Burrclaw up and set the mole back in a standing position, "I don't eat young moles." As he finished, he sheathed his sword, then set his backpack on a soft patch of ground. A cooing sound erupted from it, and the three moles scurried over to investigate.

"Aww!"

"Et's zo cute!"

"What's ets name?"

Nightwrath smiled. "That would be my daughter Beth."

Ruth sized the badger up. Once a beast looked past his scary size, his eyes looked fairly trustworthy. She sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. "'Ee don't smell loike a varmint," she announced. "Papa says that varmints stink summat awful."

"I'm not a vermin. I'm a badger. Tell me," he looked around, "do you live around here? Where are your parents? I'm sure they're worried sick."

Ruth kicked the ground sheepishly. "Uh... They'm don't know we'm out here."

"We'm should probably go back," Gruffol said, rubbing his stomach. "Besides, all that climbing made Oi be hungry."

"Would 'ee like t' come t' our 'ome?" Ruth asked. "We'm could feed thy babe and yurrself."

Nightwrath looked down at Beth. "What do you say? Are you hungry?" Beth wrinkled her nose and cooed, causing her father chuckled, the sound deeply resounding from his chest. "I'll take that as a yes. Could you show us the way?"

"Aye, Zurr! Foller uz!"