Hope? (Tassle Riverswift)

[Substitute Author]

This was insane.

Tassle stared down at the jumble of wood with a growing feeling of despair. The moonlight shone on the twisted edges of the driftwood, casting grotesque shadows on the smooth sand. In darkness, the beach looked still. Surreal. Ominous.

The shrew quivered ever so slightly. Her eyes never moved from the pile of driftwood.

This was complete, utter, total, lunacy.

Did they really think they could make something out of this? You couldn't make a decent raft out of this mess, not to mention a ship. She wouldn't trust this on the calmest pond in Mossflower Wood.

Take this out to sea? What a joke.

What a horrible, chilling, joke.

Tassle took a deep breath of salty night air and tried to push everything to the back of her mind. She tried to think of the glowing prospect of freedom, which just a few days ago she had thought was all she ever wanted. The empty beach, the pale moonlight, the wind in her fur. There were no chains on her paws, now. Wasn't this what she had dreamed of? She was free!

But she wasn't. And the moonlight was not reassuring, but eerie. She was simply stuck in another prison. The island was dangerous. Their supplies were limited, and there was next to nothing to be found on the island. They were hunted.

And even beyond that...

Tassle felt a shiver of what might have been fear run up her spine, though she told herself it was cold as she turned and looked up at the cliffs where the old rat shaman had stood before. Prophecies of death, strange noises. Something was wrong. She didn't know what to do.

The rest of the group had retired back to the inside of the tunnels, where a fire would not be so obvious. Tassle had insisted that they keep a watch and had volunteered to go first. Best to put a cheerful face on things.

A part of Tassle winced back from that. Was that why she wanted to be out here? To be brave? Or was it to get away from the scared, haunted eyes of her friends?

Did she want to be a hero? She thought she did, once. What did she want now?

She wanted to be safe. She wanted all of them to be safe. She wanted to go to sleep and not have to worry about not waking in the morning.

Blast! Tassle stared at the still beach, angry at herself and the island and everything that had gone wrong in her life.

There had to be some way to get out of here. Was the raft their only hope? It might be. She couldn't think of anything else. And the raft was a mess! She knew that. Did any of them? Probably.

But she wasn't going to tell them that. They were tired, even more tired than her. Tassle was strong. She could hold up under it, and do her best to help them through.

A strangled gasp, half of humor, half of pain, rose in her throat. She would offer them the greatest of all gifts; hope.

And if that hope led them to a watery grave-

It was still better than this cursed island.

~

They rose the next morning, weary and troubled; they ate of their meager rations and then got to work. An uneasy feeling settled over them. Their enemies were out there somewhere, perhaps looking for them. If they were discovered...

The raft took shape quicker than Tassle had expected. The shrew directed the proceedings with the eye of somebeast who'd been around boats since she was a babe. Everyone was quick to catch on, though they kept casting nervous glances over their shoulders.

Tassle swallowed and her throat felt dry. The sun, still rising in the sky, beat down on them all with terrible ferocity. Her ragged tunic was stained with sweat.

"Put that big one over there," she directed hoarsely, motioning with her paw. Brooga, Cricket, and Roger all strained at the log she indicated. Tassle dropped her own load and went over to help, her paws digging into the loose sand as she pushed against it.

The log slid suddenly forward, and Tassle looked up to see Ulrick's emotionless face hovering above them. He silently finished manouvering the wood into place, then stood back as Brooga jumped forward with makeshift rope.

Breathing a little hard, Tassle wiped paw across her brow. "Thanks."

Ulrick nodded curtly, stumping off to continue working. Tassle half-shrugged and turned back to the work. Cricket was standing a little ways away, glaring at the badger's back. The shrew's brow furrowed.

"Back to work, Cricket," she said, voice more tired than angry.

The rat turned the glare on her. "I don't wanna work anymore," she said nastily. "'s hot! I'm tired. You're all a bunch of meanies!"
Something inside Tassle snapped. "Oh, really?" She stalked over to the rat and stood mere inches away, matching the rat's glare. "We're mean? Funny, rat, but I don't see any of us standing by tormenting you while you work- in fact, we're all working a lot harder than you, and treating you far better than you deserve." She leaned closer, gritting her teeth. "You've done nothing but whine, and I'm sick of it. Shut up and work, blast you, or you'll have a lot more to worry about than getting your paws dirty!"

Cricket edged away from her, sticking out her tongue. "I'm not afraid of you, Spikey!"

Tassle's paws clenched as she stared at the rat. Stupid rodent.

"You're afraid of him, though, aren't you?" Her paw shot out and pointed at Ulrick. Cricket's expression changed slightly.

"I hate you!" she spat, dashing off towards the raft. Furious, Tassle let her go. Stupid!

Brooga's paw touched her elbow and the shrew jumped. Her heart raced for a moment, and then she fixed a grin on her face. "Yes?"

"Ee shouldn' be so 'ard on her," Brooga said quietly. "She's only a choild."

A child that could hurt them. That hated them.

"Right." No use arguing. Not now. Tassle glanced away. "Can you go grab Shelby for me? I need to talk to her."

A look of surprise came over the mole's expression. "Mizz Shelby? I hain't seen her."

Come to think of it... "Neither have I." A bolt of fear went through Tassle. She stood up on tip-paw, scanning the sandy beach. There was the raft and the wood, and everyone gathered around it... No sign of the stoat.

Tassle's high pitched yelling got everyone's attention. They turned towards her, panicked and surprised.

"Has anyone seen Shelby?"

Blank expressions were on everybeasts' face- they shook their heads.

"When was she last seen?"

"I think..." Roger scratched his head. "I saw her in the tunnel!"

"Okay." This was not good. "Has anyone seen her since?"

More shaking heads. Tassle turned and stared in the direction of the tunnels. Stupid stoat! Gone, abandoned them, got lost... She should just leave her.

The shrew's mouth opened.

"We have to go look for her," she said at least, taking a deep breath. "But we can't waste too much time. I'll stay here and work on the raft. Brooga, can you go look for her?"

The mole looked a little worried, but she nodded. Tassle sighed in relief.

"Thank you. Don't get lost."

"We'm won't."

Tassle's head suddenly ached very much. She rubbed her forehead and tried to focus. "Right," she managed. "I'll work on the raft."