Eye of the Beholder

[Rousseau]

When Rousseau was younger she had been told by one of her instructors in Terramort?s Naval Academy that while dueling somebeast, one needed to know, or to at least learn, everything about their opponent, from how swift and powerful their sword paws were, to who or what they were fighting for, to their very own personality and being.  Only with this knowledge was it possible to find a weakness and accurately exploit it.  Of all the things that had been crammed into her head during her days as a student, this was the only thing that the rattess had held onto and tried to perfect.  As an artist, she enjoyed this chance to search for details and perfect, not only her swordsmanship, but also her own art. What Rousseau learned when she was younger was that, just like painting, fighting was its own breed of art and, while some of the novices could merely sketch, there were some who had perfected their craft and could create masterpieces with their swordstrokes.

Rousseau prayed she could as well.

The rattess panted, wiping away the sweat that, along with some unfortunate beasts? blood, coated her fur.  Morleo stood amidst the chaos of the ensuing battle, unfazed by the commotion of war cries and death screams.  Rousseau stared him down and raised her blade to a more acceptable stance, one that wouldn?t leave her too exposed while she caught her breath.  

She had thought she had known everything about her opponent. What he was fighting for was easy enough: his tribe and his son, and his personality hadn?t been an issue either: obsessive, wrathful, yet concerned. But Rousseau had made an error when it came to his fighting.  The corsair knew his brutish form would be able to overpower her smaller one and could take a few hits, but she had figured that her short stature would aid her with giving him a harder target to hit.  Dodging around a stocky beast?s blade should be easy for a beast as lithe as she.  After all, the bigger a beast was, the slower they would move and attack, right?

It turned out, in fact, that neither were the case.  Morleo?s attacks were as precise as they were strong and strong as they were fast. His quickness of paw was only aided by the fact that he already knew her obvious weakness, her blind right side.  Time and time again, he would attack from her right side and, when his attacks became too predictable, he would feint and strike from the left. From the few minutes they had been locking blades, Rousseau had narrowly avoided her death twice from this maneuver, once because she had stumbled after an unsuccessful parry and her head had ducked just low enough to dodge a beheading attempt.  The second, a stray arrow had landed beside Morleo?s footpaws as he tried to stab her, startling him long enough for her to recover and avoid the fatal blow.  Either way, the duel would have ended in Morleo?s favor had it not been for a few random strokes of luck.

Morleo regained his breath, smiling at her. ?I?ll admit, you?re far more formidable than I expected.  It?s a shame you were born among heathens and not as one of our Daughters or Granddaughters.  You would have made an excellent warrior in our ranks.  Even still, despite how skilled you may be, you are no match for me.  Admit your defeat now, and I may show you some mercy.?

Rousseau raised her sword in response. ?If ya haven?t noticed, I ain?t the type o? beast t? surrender so easy.?

Morleo raised his sword as well. ?Very well then, if it is your choice, die along with the rest.?

Both beasts moved against each other once more, swords clashing against each other in a deathly rhythm.  Morleo blocked a blow meant for his side and pulled his club from where it hung in his belt, swinging the blunt weapon at the rattess? head.  Rousseau ducked underneath it and stabbed at his exposed chest, her cutlass making an unsatisfactory ching as the scarred rat blocked it with his own sword. Counterattack after counterattack, parry after parry, feint after feint, their fight escalated, nobeast ever landing a successful blow or gaining an advantage over their opponent.

Still, Rousseau knew that he was winning.  Stealing a glance behind her after a successful parry, she noticed the wall behind her was looming closer as Morleo forced her back further and further.  The wall was a deathtrap. That was one of the first things taught in sparring classes. If you were backed against a wall, your maneuverability would become restricted and you would only have two places to go: left or right.  Rousseau couldn?t let that happen.

The rattess blocked a blow. There had to be an opening somewhere or some detail she was forgetting that would help her find a weakness, something to catch him off guard or throw off his concentration.  The wall loomed closer. Something.  ANYTHING!

As if Vulpuz had heard her cries for help, the body of a rat fell from the sky and landed to her left.

For a moment, both Rousseau and Morleo were too confused by the bloody and mangled corpse that had appeared to take any action. Both beasts, in a short silent truce, looked upwards.  Tobias Forst, panting from his own battle and carrying a bloody sword, stared back at her from amid two humongous cauldrons. Rousseau didn?t know what they were for or what was in them, but it was obvious that the young mink had somehow saved her life.  Had she been successfully pushed into the sandstone walls, who knew what would have been dumped onto her?  Oil, toxic powders? Maybe the rat Tobias had killed would have simply pushed the cauldrons over the walltops and tried to crush her beneath them. Either way, she owed him her life.  She nodded her thanks.  The young architect panted one more time, returned the nod, and immediately added ?Rousseau! Your right!?

Rousseau blocked the blow from Morleo and shoved against his bulk, trying to push herself away from the wall. Even though the cauldrons were no longer a threat, the scarred rat could still pin her. When he tried to push her back, she spun around him and let him stumble past her.  Morleo recovered and turned to face her.  The wall was now at his back as she had intended.  The warlord glanced at his club and tossed the weapon away. ?Unnecessary weight.? He readjusted his grip on his on sword.

Rousseau did the same.

Once more, their blades clashed against one another and once more, Rousseau was shoved back, but, with the wall no longer an issue, she didn?t care.  She just needed to focus on keeping herself protected until she could find a chance to strike.  Without the club?s weight, Morleo moved slightly faster and he seemed to always go for killing blows rather than simple wounds.  

Rousseau blocked a blow aimed at her neck and retaliated with a strike at his midriff. Morleo stepped backwards to avoid the attack then darted forward and lashed out with a heavy punch immediately afterwards. His fist met its mark, landing firmly on the rattess? right cheek.  Rousseau?s head recoiled at the blow and she stumbled, cursing as Morleo followed it up with a swift kick to her chest.

Rousseau fell backwards upon the dirt. Somewhere she heard Tobias scream her name.

Morleo was upon her in a heartbeat.

?This is your end, heathen!?

The scarred rat stood over her, hacking away at her as she tried to get up. Rousseau blocked the first blow clumsily from where she lay on her back, holding her sword across her chest as she tried to ward off his attacks. Morleo switched tactics. Instead of downward slashes, he attempted stabbing at her.  The rattess panicked, rolling on her side to avoid being gored by his sword. Rousseau kept rolling to avoid his attacks, and, when she was safely on her back once more, slashed at his unprotected footpaws. Morleo had to leap over the blade to avoid it, landing ungracefully upon his right knee.

He winced.

The hesitation was long enough for Rousseau to make it back to her footpaws and catch her breath. She stared over Morleo. She was becoming too careless. The scarred rat wasn?t like her when it came to this battle. While she had trained and practiced for the duel for a mere two days, he had trained himself for this moment his entire life. However, no matter how more skilled he was than she, he wasn?t invincible.

She had successfully scored the first blow.

Rousseau didn?t know what had exactly happened, but Morleo clutched at his right leg as if she had cut it open. His body, no matter how burly it was, wasn?t as sturdy as it seemed.  From a single jump, he had been weakened, possibly due to past injuries.  She had wounded him.

And then she noticed the blood that decorated the tip of Morleo?s blade.

Rousseau lifted the hem of her tunic and saw the wound that had been scored upon her side.  It was small and almost unnoticeable, but it was bleeding heavily, turning the ripped tunic and vest layered above it a deep crimson. She pressed the cloth against it and applied as much pressure as she could without screaming.  An eye for an eye as the saying went.

?Why do you fight, heathen?? Morleo asked, struggling to his footpaws. ?Why do you fight for these? monsters? You?re not even affiliated with them, why do you come to their aid!??

Rousseau winced as she clutched her wound. She looked at the battle around her. Soldiers, pirates, and water rats sliced and fell in splatters of blood and earsplitting screams. Faces she knew and some she didn?t, those of ally and those of enemy, all fought ferociously for the common cause of survival. The beasts weren?t as different from each other as they claimed to be.  After all, everybeast bled the same way, didn?t they? Wars were interesting like that. ?I ain?t on their side if that?s wot yer sayin? an? I ain?t about t? justify anythin? they?ve done t? ya.  I was ordered t? come ?ere is all.  Had I not been, I wouldn?t be ?ere right now.? She pointed to the select few of her pirates that she could spot within the crowd. ?Ya see those beasts right there? Those are my beasts.  Those are the beasts that, ?cause o? my position, I ain?t supposed t? let anythin? happen to.  I couldn?t bally well care less wot happened t? Kotir, but if ya even think about touchin? one of ?em, I?ll shove a knife int? yer bloody heart!  That?s wot I?ve learned this week.  If you at least show that ya care an? that yer bloody well willin? t? try, they?ll follow right behind ya an? steady yer paw if ya need it.  An? if they?re willin? t? follow, I?m willin? t? lead ?em.  But I?m not jest gonna try, no, I?m gonna damn well succeed, ?cause I ain?t about t? let anythin? happen to ?em.  Not when I need ?em! Not when they need me! Not when, fer once, I ain?t as alone as I used t? think I was!?

Morleo chuckled. ?If you were so worried for your beasts? safety, then why did you not run when you had a chance? That would have been the best leadership.?

?There?s an old sayin? in Terramort, the island I unfortunately call me home, that goes somethin? like this: nobeast is left behind. Simple, right? Well, you still have one o? my beasts, a weasel named Willump if ya don?t remember, an? I made a promise t? meself that I would save ?im, that I wouldn?t? let ?im down again.  That fer once, I?d do somethin? without his help an? be the captain I?m s?posed t? be.? She panted and clutched at her wound tighter.

?Heroic,? Morleo said, ?but you forget the part where you and your ilk will die before anything of that sort happens. You?re far outnumbered.?

For the first time during the fight, Rousseau smiled. ?Don?t be so sure.?

?What??

Rousseau heard the first war cry, a shout for Terramort, from near the west wall followed by a second in the name of Kotir. She glanced at the source of the commotion. Almost five score beasts, made up of a cluster of Crimson Lass crewbeasts and the now-freed prisoners, appeared as if from nowhere from the west wall of the stronghold. Among them she saw a bloody and almost-broken Tirian leading the charge along with Aryll, her first officer, and a pawful of other beasts.  She tried to locate Willump from among the crowd but locked eyes on another beast instead.  She was too stunned for words.  

?It?s funny what I?m able to do, isn?t it??

How? Why?

?Your crewbeasts got into a little trouble, so I figured they might need some help.?

?Rousseau,? Tobias said from the walltop, ?is that???

?Aye.?

Chokk met her gaze as he charged, his sling twirling above his head in battle fueled fury. When she had given him the honor of a burial, she had felt no pulse and his body had been full of spears and arrows. The beaver was dead.  Stone dead.  And yet, there he was, clear as day some distance away from her.  She nodded at him, seeing if he was real and not some illusion from war hysteria. He returned it curtly, going back to his battle.

Rousseau tried not to let the shock get the better of her and turned back to Morleo. She shook her head and smiled at him. ?Those numbers ye?ve got, they?re nothin?, not now that we?ve got reinforcements.? She toyed with her cutlass, tracing odd shapes into the dirt. ?Ye?ve lost.?

?How did...?

The rattess smiled at the doodle she had made.

?Aryll?? Rousseau panted, sheathing her cutlass and turning to the stoat.  They had been sparring for the last hour, preparing the rattess for her duel and had decided against going another round, retiring from the activity. ?There?s somethin? I need ya t? do fer me.?

?Aye??

?The duel, I?ve been thinkin?, it?s pro?lly gonna be a trap.?

Aryll nodded. ?Most beasts have been thinkin? the same.?

?Aye. Well, I got t? thinkin?,? Rousseau started, ?an? wot if there was a way we could ?ave our own trap? Regardless a fight?s gonna break out an? we?re outnumbered by a good margin? well, without the prisoners we are??

?What?re ya suggestin?, cap?n??

?What I think is gonna happen is that Morleo?s entire army will greet us at the front doors an? try t? ambush us. An? if I?m right, all o? his prisoners will be unguarded, defenseless.  Wot if, when the fight begins, a small group o? beasts were to slip through the hole in the west wall, sneak over t? their camp, an? release as many beasts as possible, give ?em some weapons an? send ?em t? the fight?? she explained. ?We could save Will an? even Tirian, an? maybe even turn the tide o? the fight if we start losin?.?

?It?s risky,? Aryll said.

?Aye, but it kin work.?

The stoat was silent for a moment, thinking over everything. ?How many beasts would I need??

Rousseau shrugged. ?As many as ya think.?

?An? what about the crew? While you were fightin?, I was gonna lead ?em fer ya.?

?Tell Garrow he?s been promoted t? Second Officer. As much as he?s a thorn in my side, he?s got a good head on ?is shoulders.?

?An? if anythin? goes wrong??

?Ya give up an? rejoin the battle, simple as that.?

Aryll nodded. ?I?ll get a group together then. Are ya still gonna fight ?im, regardless of if it's a trap or not??

?Aye.?

The stoat, having caught her breath stood up and sheathed her scimitar. ?Everybeast is rootin? fer ya? even Garrow. Thought ya might like t? know that. Good luck? captain.?

?You as well,? Rousseau replied. ?Save Will. Don?t leave ?im.?

She nodded.

?Oh, an? cap?n??

?Hmm??

?Introduce that scum t? Vulpuz fer me.?

?I asked a little favor from a beast. Figured if you set a trap, I?d spring one o? my own.  So, I sent a few o' my beasts t' go release the prisoners you had captured,? Rousseau said. ?It worked."

"I had the guard nearly doubled over the prisoners so that nothing of that sort could happen."

Rousseau could have sworn she heard Vulpuz chuckle. Chokk. "Well, I guess they found a little help t' take 'em on with," she answered. "It don?t matter if ya kill me or not now. Our army will win an? my crew? an? Will, they?ll be safe. It?s over.?

Morleo watched the battle escalate and begin to turn in the favor of the Kotir beasts, his eyes flickering over everything that was happening. Lord Tirian, beaten by the scarred rat but not broken, cut through the bodies of two rats with quick paw work.  Chokk took out an archer with a well aimed shot from his sling, stabbing a beast with the knife from his belt in the same instant while a fox prisoner parried a blow and sent his attacker sprawling into a group of his allies. The pirates of The Crimson Lass made quick work of them with their cutlasses and sabers, the Kotir soldiers guarding them from any onslaught that anybeast could muster against them. The crowd of water rats began to thin.

Rousseau turned back to Morleo. ?I?ll repeat. Ye?ve lost.?

Morleo smiled and busted out laughing. ?I?ve lost? I?ve lost!? You can strike my beasts down, you could kill my son, you could take EVERYTHING from me, but I can assure you that, so long as I, Morleo, First Son of the Mother, am breathing, I have not lost! I?ll kill you all, one at a time if I have to and pick apart your castle stone by stone, even if it takes me a lifetime.  Even if you win this battle, all it takes is for me to break a single dam and that castle and everybeast inside will be cleansed with water, broken rubble and corpses sacrificed in the Mother?s name. Where will your Vulpuz be then??

?An? you?d flood that castle even if yer liddle ?un was still in there?? Rousseau said accusingly.

?Don?t you dare say I would do such a heathen action,? Morleo spat. ?The only reason you beasts aren?t dead is because you had him among you. I?ve wanted to save him and protect him from the beginning, I even released you and traded for your first mate because I knew the threats I made to you would keep him safe. If Mirdros died, I would... I would literally have nothing.? He paused. ?And if I lose the last thing I have? then I?ll take everything from the beasts who stole it from me.? The scarred rat?s pain seemed to disappear from his leg and he stood up fully. ?Shall we end this??

Rousseau clutched at her wound and gripped her cutlass hilt. ?Aye.?

Steel clashed against steel once again, the cadence of the two metals impacting against each other escalating with every sword stroke. Rousseau grunted as she blocked a blow, parrying it with a strike towards Morleo?s right footpaw. The scarred rat took a step back to avoid the blow and retaliated. The rattess continued her tactic, parrying blows and attacking at his wounded leg much like how he had been fighting her. Each strike, he was forced to take a step back in the direction of the wall as she was planning. She was winning.

Morleo smiled. ?This ends now??

Rousseau?s first thought was that of confusion at his statement. But the thought changed to dread when she realized that he had purposely let her push him back. Morleo struck at her with a hard blow, making her stumble when she attempted to block it. The rattess had pushed him to the position where he had abandoned his club, she realized as the weapon reappeared in his paws and he swung vigorously.

She screamed.

The blunt weapon struck a hideous blow across her side, where her previous wound had been inflicted and opening it further if the rattess could guess from the searing pain that erupted from it. Rousseau fell backwards to the ground, clutching at it and screaming as she tried to relieve some of the pain that sprung from her body with every heartbeat. Her groans were cut short by Morleo planting his boot upon her chest.

Both rats stared at one another for a moment. Rousseau blinked at him from where she lay, the point of a sword appearing in front of her good eye in response. She was helpless once more, trapped between a beast and his blade.

?B-but, I love ya, Rouss!?

?An? I bloody well said no!? Rousseau shouted, struggling to free her smaller form from the suffocating weight of Reginald?s and the wall he had managed to pin her to. ?Yer lucky I don?t have my bloody rapier or I?d-?

?Ye?d what? Gut me!?? he snarled. ?Ya wouldn?t make it three steps out the door afore ya got sent t? the Dark Forest yerself. I?m a king if ye?ve forgotten. I've got guards. You said yerself that I always get what I want an?, right now, wot I want is you.? He spun her around so that she was facing him. ?I could give ya anythin? ya wanted, ya know. Anything. Don?t ya want t? be a queen? T? never have t? work another day in yer life? T? get t? paint fer the rest of yer days with me? Queen Rousseau Frostfang, think about it.?

The offer was tempting, never having to work, always getting to paint, she couldn?t deny, but a life with a beast as repulsive as Reginald was too much of a price to pay. She struggled against him once more before saying, ?Ya can?t force somebeast t? love ya, Regi, an? ya can?t always get wot ya want. Sometimes, ya jest gotta accept defeat an' move on.?

Reginald snarled at her but his expression changed a moment later. He smiled a cunning, cruel grin. ?That?s where yer wrong, Rouss.? He shoved her against the wall and produced a dagger from the back of his belt. He pointed the blade at her right eye. ?As a beast with yer talents ye?d need yer pretty little eyes t? see what?cher paintin', right? Well, how about I rip those dainty little things out o? their sockets? Then ya won't 'ave any distractions.? Rousseau stared at the blade with increased fear. She struggled against his grip once more, praying somebeast would help her, rescue her. ?I?ll make yer life miserable. I?ll make ya cap?n o? The Crimson Lass, I doubt you want that, right? I can take everythin? from ya or I can give ya everythin? you could possibly imagine, so, tell me. Yes or no? Will ya marry me, Rousseau??

The rattess ceased struggling. Nobeast would come.

Nobeast ever came.

?Do yer worst.?

?Rousseau!? Tobias? shout echoed through her ears, knocking her back into reality.

?Take one step, boy, and I?ll kill her now,? Morleo answered him.

?Captain!? Rousseau?s ears perked at Aryll?s voice. She leaned her head back and saw the crowd that had gathered around the spectacle. The lingering doubt of being alone was gone. Beasts? had come for her? her.

?The same goes for you heathens! One move and I will slay her now,? he said. ?I wish to savor this and nobeast will interrupt my victory!? He turned back to her. ?No, it?s you who have lost. And though you may think you have won this war, I can assure you that that is not the case. The Mother has fortold of our victory and soon, you will die and that castle will crumble. And for her prophecy and leading us in these dark times, our god will demand a sacrifice in her name. How fitting for it to be you.? Morleo looked to the crowd. ?Your captain will find honor in death. She will be one with the Mother and, for once, she will be pure.? He raised his sword.

?Captain Rousseau!!?

Rousseau closed her eye. She didn?t mind dying. Beasts had come, that?s what mattered. At least she wouldn?t die alone like she had once feared. The pain in her side grew more intense and, for a moment, she thought he had finished it. Her heart beat once, reminding her that she was still alive.  As the seconds ticked away, she longed for Calder. For his paw like he had promised.

Snkkt.

The sound of a blade entering flesh greeted her ears yet she felt no pain. She opened her eye.

Morleo was motionless, his blade still raised and ready to strike. A knife was buried into his right leg, the bit of visible blade gleaming in the sunlight.

A weasel gripped the hilt tightly, his familiar sheepish grin erased from his maw and replaced with a snarl. The beast looked much the same as the last time Rousseau had seen him, except his clothes were covered in his own dried blood.  Rousseau stared at Willump, unblinking. Her first mate grinned at her.

?Ya came??

?I ain?t leavin? ya t? die, cap?n.?

?And who might you be, weasel?? Morleo asked. He looked at Rousseau and followed her gaze to Willump?s. For a moment he was confused, then he smiled as he remembered the beast?s identity. Ignoring the dagger in his leg and what the rattess could only assume to be searing pain similar to hers, he spoke. ?I only wished to save my son and my tribe? and if I can?t have that, if everything is to be taken away from me?? He winced. ??then I can assure you? want you want? I?ll take it from you as well.?

Rousseau?s eye grew wide.

Morleo turned his body, his footpaw left her chest, and he smiled. His blade flashed briefly in the morning sunlight and a thin red line appeared on Willump?s chest. The weasel stood for a moment as if the strike had not happened. The next moment, he fell without a sound.

?WILLUMP!? The pain in her side was gone. Her paw trembled and brushed against the steel of her fallen cutlass. Rousseau stared at the blade and looked back to Morleo.  She gripped the hilt deftly. The sword felt light, lighter than even her rapier.

She lunged at him a moment later.

Morleo spun and blocked the attack but slower than he normally had been. Willump?s dagger was doing its work. The scarred rat was having trouble keeping up with her, having no time to retaliate against her swift onslaught that kept coming with no end in sight, fueled by sheer fury. Everything she had fought for, everything she had cared about had been struck down before her eyes into a crumpled heap. Morleo would pay, it was that simple.

Morleo slowed down further.

Rousseau grew faster.

The scarred rat tried to take a step back away from her but found he was unable to. The tall, sandstone wall behind him blocked his path and pinned him between the crazed rattess and solid stone. He panted. ?I?ll kill you all!? he said, blocking a blow. ?Every last one of you! You, your crew, everybeast!?

The rattess swung upwards and Morleo?s weapon spun from his claws, landing a safe distance away from him. She pointed her sword at his neck. ?You?ll kill my crew??

He looked up at her, rage filling every muscle in his body. ?Every last one of them.?

Rousseau frowned. ?I told ya if ya even thought about it?? The rattess lunged.

Morleo gave a grunt as the cutlass entered into his flesh, the blade sticking out of the square middle of his chest as she had said it would. The scarred rat looked at it and then gripped at a dagger he had shoved into the back of his belt, giving one last lunge with it. He made it two steps before he fell to the dirt, panting. ?I? I just wanted to save my son?? he coughed, sputtering blood from his maw. ?I just? wanted to do? what the Mother asked of me? to be a good servant? to save my tribe? I just?my son...? He didn?t get any further. His panting slowed.  Morleo gave one last sigh and wince, and closed his eyes.

Rousseau took a step back. The beast, her enemy, was dead. After a week of hunting for, planning, and strategizing with seven other beasts, the beast they had sought after, the one who had previously killed all of them and destroyed Kotir, was dead, killed by her paw. She blinked. It was over.

The rattess looked to her side and the crimson color her white tunic now was. Rousseau lifted the thin cloth to examine her wound. It had enlarged from the stretching of her muscles, tearing a long line down from her midriff to the base of her leg and its coloration had changed from a red to an almost violet color. The pain had almost ceased, but she was feeling lightheaded and ready to vomit.  

She turned around and stared at the crowd.  The water rats had been routed, killed or captured, and Kotir had emerged victorious amongst it all, finishing off anybeast else with fight still left in them.  The lawn was littered with bodies of allies and enemies, and the grass was painted red instead of green. Willump lay on the ground, unmoving and surrounded by the Terramort pirates as they tried to tend to him. A plump rat from the crowd glanced up at her from where he was tending to the weasel and immediately sprinted towards her.

?Rousseau!? Calder shouted.

The rattess stumbled and fell at that moment, the cook catching her before she hit the ground. Rousseau panted. She was tired. She wanted to sleep.

?Rousseau,? Calder repeated. ?Are ya? are ya alright??

?Cal,? she managed. Morleo, despite being dead, had still gotten some form of victory. Rousseau felt ready to pass out, to simply fall asleep in the cook?s arms.  She had won the duel, surely she deserved that reward.

?Hellgates, Rouss,? Calder said, seeing her wound. ?What?d ya let that beast do t? ya? I?m getting? ya outta here. Gettin? ya t? the infirmary.?

?No,? Rousseau choked. ?Get Will out.  Help ?im. Make sure he doesn?t die??

?An? wot about you!? I?m not leavin? ya!?

By now many of her crew had arrived by her side. She smiled at them. It felt nice to have everybeast around her, worrying about her and treating her like she actually existed, like she wasn?t any different from anybeast. She wasn?t the captain who wouldn?t leave her cabin anymore, no longer alien to them.  She was happy that for once she mattered, that beasts cared about her.  She wasn?t alone.

That?s all that mattered.

?Go help Will.?

?I said I ain?t leavin? ya, Rouss!? Calder screamed.

?I?m captain? that?s an order, Cal.?

?Well I?m mutinying then,? he said. ?We?re all mutinying! We ain?t about t? let ya die.  Will?s fine, some o? the crew kin look after ?im fine but you? if ya die? I?ll? I?ll kill ya, Rouss! I?ll bloody well kill ya!? The tears that spilled down his cheeks made Rousseau grin.

?Ya swear he?ll be okay? Can I trust ya??

?Aye.?

The rattess reached her paw upwards and grasped Calder?s in hers. ?Then don?t let go."

Rousseau felt a swift surge of pain in her side as a group of pirates hoisted her upwards onto a stretcher along with her first mate, whose breathing was slow and steady, weak but not ceasing. From the corner of her eye, she saw herself pass by beasts she knew. It became a game to her to keep her eye open, naming everybeast she saw. Tobias, Aryll, Chokk, Garrow, Tirian. She even thought she saw Mirdros in a corridor she passed.  Everybeast moved in a blur around her, carrying other wounded beasts, celebrating victories, and drinking in Kotir?s name. Rousseau didn?t care though.  Only one thing mattered to her now: staying alive.

Even still, the rat had stayed true to his word.

Calder's paw never left hers.