Woodlander's Code

[Suellyn]

Crying wasn't helping anybeast. It wouldn't help get Baez back and it wasn't improving the gaunt reflection at which the hogwife was peering in the still pool. The puffy eyes only accentuated the hollowness of the cheeks. 'E'd be 'orrified ifin 'e came back and saw me like this.

Suellyn scooped up a little of the water in her paws and splashed it on her face, shaking her quills to remove the excess moisture. Her gaze returned to the pond as its surface settled. She expected to see some improvement on the reflection but instead she was startled by another face there just over her shoulder.

?Baez!? The hogwife spun around.

?No, I'm afraid it's only me.? Her father in-law touched his headspikes politely with a paw in greeting. ?I didn' mean t'frighten thee.?

She couldn't completely hide her disappointment. ?Just a liddle stardled is all.?

?Well I . . .? he began. Father had aways been a little timid around her. ?I brought thee a liddle somethin'. I know Mother's stew is not a favorite of thine.? Su couldn't stand all the ingredients being mixed together like that so a beast couldn't tell one from another. ?And I noticed that thy bread had found its way into the broth.? The texture of soggy bread was not something the hogwife could swallow.

His offering was a piece of that same bread, but dry and with the crust cut off. It was the most appetizing thing she had seen all day, but Suellyn covered her face with her apron and turned her back on it. Why must I be such a Dibbun about these things? She was always told a creature was supposed to grow out of being so finicky.

?I'll jus' leave it 'ere an' thee can eat it if thou wishes.?

?Thank you,? the hogwife whispered. She heard the shuffling of her father-in-law's spines as he stooped to leave her the bread and then started back toward the house.

He stopped before he had gone several paces and sighed. ?I know that thee are only tryin' t'protect our feelin's when thee say thou aren't 'ungry.?

Suellyn peeked out from behind her apron at him.

?We can't . . .? He pawed at his quills with nervous frustration. ?Well, we cannot know what thou dost like if thou aren't 'onest about what thou dost not..? He shook his head, rattling his quills. ?My son knew some trick of gettin' thee t'eat but I must admit we 'ave no idea what it might 'ave been. I know thou misses 'im.? The gruff voice softened, ?I ? I miss 'im, as well.?

The speech brought tears to the daughter-in-law's eyes once again and she started to say something but the elder hog stopped her with a lifted paw.

?Mother and I would be awful sorry if somethin' ever 'appened t'thee. Prob'ly woulda adopted thee into the family even if Baez 'adn't married thee an' saved us'ns the trouble.?

~

Suellyn didn't know how much longer she sat there at the edge of the little pool, pinching off little pieces of bread her claws, nibbling, and thinking. She only knew that it had started to get dark, supper would be on the table, and she had promised to eat some of it.

She walked back slowly, passing again the spot where she and Baez had liked to sit and talk. ?Your folks are very good t'me,? the hogwife told him. ?I'll take care of them until you get back.? With a nod and a smile she continued towards the cottage only to stop when it came into view. Something was wrong.

Too quiet. And that smell . . . Nothing could have prepared the young hedgehog for the sight that awaited her when she cautiously cracked open the front door of the dwelling.

Father, who had been so lively only a few hours ago was laid out on the table, dead, or rather parts of him were. It looked as if he'd been partially butchered. The old hog's head had been bashed in. His once handsome, graying quills were now matted with rusty red. His legs were . . . gone, viciously hacked off and nowhere to be seen. And the blood. . . Oh the sickening, salty, metallic stench of it! It was everywhere.

Suellyn knew at once that she would never be able to eat in this kitchen again, much less on this table where Father . . . Oh, how could she even be thinking of such a thing at a time like this? With Father . . . and Mother . . .

?Mother, where are you?? Forcing her footpaws to carry her further into the room, the daughter-in-law called out again in a choked whisper, ?Mother, what 'appened?? The awful truth was made apparent when she stumbled and landed snout to snout with the older female, who was sprawled lifeless on the floor.

Suellyn's first instinct was to scream and jump back, frightened of the cold, dead eyes. But this was the creature who had been more of a mother to her than her own. 

?Who did this t'you?? She reached out with a trembling paw and closed the eyes.

Standing, the young hogwife began to look around for something with which to cover the bodies. There was clothing strewn everywhere but not a blanket or shawl. And on the bed . . .

?Seasons o' Spikes!? It was a stoat.

The creature stirred but did not wake when Suellyn cried out and the woodlander pressed a paw to her mouth to keep herself from making another sound. Was it possible that this was the vermin who had attacked and killed Mother and Father?

The hedgehog scanned around quickly for some kind of weapon and found a shovel close to paw. She lifted it and took a step closer to the bed.

Suellyn had never hit another creature in her life, had never expected to have the need. What was it Mother always said? ?Woodlanders are pledged to 'elp each other and never to 'arm a living creature.? Still, she raised the makeshift weapon now with the full desire to kill the one who had killed her family.

Then something stopped her. The stoat stirred again, rubbed a paw over a gently rounded stomach.

The hogwife dropped the shovel. She thought of the child she and Baez had so longed for. ?It wasn't you at all, was it? Those murderin' rogues left you behind b'cause you couldn' keep up. O my spikes, you poor dear.?

The expectant mother woke with a start and stared at her would be attacker as if she was having some sort of strange dream.

?Don't you worry about a thing.? Suellyn took a step backward in spite of her brave words. ?You can jus' stay right there an' rest your paws. Poor thing, left all alone in your condition. I don't suppose your . . .? Vermin don't refer t'them as 'usbands an' wives, do they? ?Your ? your mate wasn't one of those that . . .? She waved a paw in the direction of the two dead hedgehogs.

The stoat shook her head and wrinkled her muzzle. ?Nah.?

Suellyn sighed. ?Good. I mean not that I thought you'd willin'ly connect yourself t'that sort. . .? She trailed off. Two widows alone. No, not widows. Baez is out there somewhere and so is this other creature.

That was another thing Mother and Father had told her, ?There's always creatures worse off than thyself. Thee should always 'elp the unfortunate if it be in thy power to do so.?

?We'll go and find them, your mate and ? and mine, if we can manage it.?

Feeling better about having made that decision, the hogwife bent and picked up the shovel once again. ?I'll have some sad business to carry out first, an' then we'll go.?

Digging a grave was another thing Su had never done before, but she wanted to give her in-laws a proper burial. Seemed only fitting after all they'd done for her.

Thinking of them, she took a couple of folded sheets off a shelf and covered the bodies as she had originally intended. Tears blurred her vision when she looked back at the vermin mother. ?I - I don't suppose you're 'ungry after seein' all . . . this, but if you need somethin' there - there's still stew in the pot. I'm not partial . . . t'stew m'self so you go ahead . . . an' 'ave all you like.?