Cress' voice was muffled as it returned through the trap door. "There's no vermin down here! They're all busy looting! Oh please hurry up!"
"But they were just...pounding. How'd they scram so quick?"
"Search me, Spring. Just let us in before they come scramming back!"
Us? Cress hadn't said there was an us. Spring was feeling increasingly uneasy, and fearful glares from the woodlanders warned her to not open the door. Preparing to prod further despite herself, Spring was startled by a ferocious scream from the other side of the trap.
"BLAST IT SPRING! WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"
(100)
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Our Greatest Tail Yet
Redwall was not yet ready for the coming onslaught of a vermin hoard led by Remmy, the dark, evil, and competent Baker, inventor of the cake of evil. The hoard was massive, with 1,000 albino ferrets, nearly 2,000 sea rats, and a squad of 300 commando pine martens, all armed to the tooth, intent on invading the legendary Abbey. Standing in front of her hoard, Remmy addressed the Redwallers, mostly a message that meant " surrender or be slain" but she ended up drifting onto a tangent that was instead about how they could all be beaten by a mere troop of linedancing leverets. Naturally, this offended the Redwallers and young Barkfur threw a tomato at the evil ferret. That sparked a mass exodus of dibbuns from the ramparts, as grownbeasts corralled them to safety. Also arrows poured in over the wall, except instead of arrowheads, they were tipped with a whole variety of rotten vegetables in a desperate attempt to demoralize the Redwallers. However, the brave Abbey beasts fought back with kitchen leftovers and the occasional savage badger. Remmy ordered a full retreat and the horde retreated to their headquarters, where she berated her officers for their incompetence.
That night, Cluny the Scourge visited Remmy in a dream, telling her that she should try stealing the redwaller's tapestry. Unfortunately a redwaller spy overheard her plan and informed the redwallers of the plot and they decided to retaliate by ambushing the thieves with moldy cheese that had been sitting in the cellars since the time of Matthias. The plot was successful and the vermin thieves were sent scurrying away from the walls. Needless to say, they did not earn a slice of Remmy's doomsday cake when they returned.
Back at Redwall, the valiant members of DAB mobilized themselves for anti-vermin combat. Their arsenal consisted of pillows, pepper bombs and the occasional adult weapon. After a day, they set out into Mossflower via Redwall's side wicker gate, looking to ambush the vermin scouts. Unfortunately, it was not all that long before the dibbuns found themselves in a battle for life and death. Of course, some of the goody-goody dibbuns had tattled to Skipper and a party of otters were sent to rescue the wayward dibbuns. Quickly dispatching the single scout that DAB was cowering before, the otter crew was about to turn back to Redwall when they were ambushed. It's a trap!
The dibbuns screamed as the party was surrounded by two score of Remmy's horde, outnumbering the Redwall crew significantly. However, as the vermin closed in, and all hope seemed lost a relief from Salamandastron rushed in to save the day. Rushing the dibbuns into the abbey, the otters watched as the hares soundly whupped the vermin.
As the vermin retreated, the youngest hare of the platoon sniffed the air. "What's that? the blinkin' bounders left behind a pile of scoff! Probably pilfered from the jolly Abbey!" On a tree stump, a dark cake was placed on a platter there.
"This is bally amazin!" a hare cried and devoured the cake in one gulp. The hare began to writhe in pain and agony as the woodlanders rushed to help.
"Corks, Baldwin, are you alright?" inquired one of the hares.
The hare convulsed, before looking up menacingly. "Er...erm...blinkin', bally, wotsit...NO! I ain't no Baldwin no more, messmate. I'm Badtooth!"
As half of the woodlander force rushed into the Abbey, a massive explosion rent the air. What was left of Baldwin was his favorite cordial jug and a few personal heirlooms. The Abbeybeasts held a vigil that night in honor of Baldwin's death. DAB cried themselves to sleep at the notion they may have been responsible for the tragedy. Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, the Skipper of otters was plotting a raid to avenge Baldwin. He ordered a pincer movement on Remmy's camp followed by a barrage of slingstones. The attack was successful and Remy lost scores of Troops thanks to Skipper's antics.
As the group returned to relish their bloodbath, the vermin remaining were frightened enough to voice complaints to their leader. The chieftess listened, an angry rebuke beginning to bubble up behind her snarl. But before she could unleash her tirade, a steady paw gripped her shoulder. It was Greyfur, one of her best fighters. Greyfur proposed a raid into the heart of the abbey followed by the taking of hostages. Remmy agreed and the two prepared their forces for battle.
Back at Redwall, an attentive wall-top watch noticed Remmy's forces mobilizing in the pre-dawn hours. Skipper, with barely a wink of sleep, was called in charge of planning defenses for the day. Unbeknownst to him, however, Remmy and an elite squad of special ops rats prepared for a campaign into Redwall. The attack began. As the blunt of Remmy's forces smashed into the south wall, Redwallers flung basket after basket of rotten vegetables at the vermin. At that point, Remmy and her squad realized that as the hoard kept attacking, they could easily restock their depleted larders with flung food. So instead of letting the feint pitter into nothing while she dithered around with the elites, she ordered the main body to grab baskets and collect as much food as possible. The Redwallers realized the trick and instantly began a switch of ammunition. Within seconds Bewildered vermin soldiers found themselves pelted by slingstones and burning coals.
As the main force fell back, Remmy ordered her commandos to hack away at the southern wicker gate. Though an inelegant solution, it wasn't long before a small squad of vermin found themselves within the Abbey walls. With the bulk of the Abbey force distracted at the main gates, Remmy's elite squad was free to steal across the lawn. By their observations from the outside, they had a general idea of how to get to the gatehouse so to open the gates. However, they hadn't planned for what was in the walls, and found themselves turned around in the orchard.
Summing up her troops, Remmy charged the gatehouse but found themselves fighting against fourscore of Skipper's ottercrew. Though they were defeated, they managed to open the gates, allowing sixscore vermin to enter the abbey before rushing out the gates. Although the ottercrew were able to close Remmy herself inside the gatehouse, capturing her, it was not certain for a time whether they would be able to expel the wave of vermin. However, led by brave hogmaid Ruffle, the Redwallers were able to eventually gain the upper paw. They forced the tide back across the grounds to the orchard. With the Redwallers effectively holding off the vermin, the ottercrew felt safe enough to interrogate Remmy.
Although they managed to get the position of the vermin's lair, it became clear to them that Remmy was a decoy. A smart otter named Spring noticed that among Remmy's affects a dagger. Remembering that Remmy fought with a spear, Spring picked up the out-of-place weapon and examined it. "Strange, this blade is dull" the ottermaid mused.
"ey! Lay off it!" Remmy complained as the ottermaid fondled the weapon.
More curious now, Spring felt the handle and noticed it was made from fish scales, nothing a mighty leader would wield. Spring then examined Remmy's face. "Aha!" She exclaimed. "This un's a fake!" as she was talking, she gripped Remmy's face and pulled hard. With a mighty yank, Spring ripped off Remmy's face revealing a mask and the sniveling face of Baldwin.
There was a collective gasp from the Redwallers, as the traitorous hare's face screwed up in a foul scowl. "Heh heh, yah thought that yous all saw the last of Badtooth mateys? Well, 'ere I am, smackin gob an' all! You'll neva' catch Remmy the Baker!"
Meanwhile, the situation at the orchard was going really bad. Although the woodlanders had reduced the vermin to a score of fighters, they were exhausted and depleted, causing the vermin to gain the upper hand. Heavy fighting in the orchard ensued, causing the remaining score of vermin to fall back to the whicker wall gate. So speedy was their flight that they managed to get to the door before the defenders could cut them off, and the invaders melted away into the woods. Too tired to pursue, the battle-worn Redwallers collapsed on the lawn with heaving chests and lolling tongues. It was over. For now. Exhausted and depleted, both sides did not make any major move the following week. Instead, they devised schemes and battle plans for the next conflict. Within the vermin camp, morale was low. Although plate after plate of Remmy's doomsday cake were distributed, that did nothing to lift the hordebeasts' spirits. Back at Redwall, Morale was even more abysmal. Many friends and family been slain, and the solace of sleep was stifled by the nightly howls of the insane cries of the hare once known as Baldwin screaming forth from the gatehouse. It did not take many restless nights for the Abbey elders to decide that something had to change. The next day, Brother Joshua was put to work developing a cure for poor Baldwin. As he was doing that, messengers secretly slipped out of the eastern gate, each on their own mission to bring a certain tribe to Redwall's aid.
Although most of the brave woodlanders got past Remmy's forces, a few turned back due to an increasingly high frequency patrol of vermin, intent on extorting the woodlands for whatever food, clothing, or resources it had to offer. As Remmy the Baker pondered how best to approach the next attack on Redwall Abbey, Baldwin's behavior was growing increasingly erratic. Everyday he ate less, slept less, and the hare was even beginning to insist that he was a rabbit. Clearly, he was not right in the head. That didn't stop several of the Abbey's dibbuns from sallying forth on a nightly basis to try and get a glimpse of the so called "craze'r 'are," as the young mole Bilbur called him. But, as often as they tried to go see Baldwin, they were caught by brother Joshua and sent back to their dorm. Meanwhile, outside Redwall, the messengers were very successful. They had convinced the Guosim, The northlander squirrels, The otters of green isle, the Guoraf and various other factions to rally under one banner to save Redwall. After mobilizing and beginning the long march, they realized there was one issue. With winter fast approaching, the march towards Redwall would be brutal and harsh. To top it all off, they would be severely weakened by the time they arrived, not the intimidating force Redwall needed. Still, Redwall's allies persevered, traveling towards Mossflower even as the first snows began to drift.
The siege was taking its toll at Redwall, and food , the very heart of Redwall's prosperous culture, was beginning to run low. With only a bowl of meager broth in their paws, shivering sentries upon the wall tops were forced to watch as Remmy's hoard below gorged itself on the fat of the woodland's fall produce. The smell alone was enough to make a mole want to leap. It seemed Remmy Post Options Post by Barkfur on Sep 16, 2018 at 5:56pm
was intentionally holding back any attack to demoralize the redwallers. At the abbey, a desperate bid was made to liven up the siege. The orchard was harvested and the small portion of fruit that was harvested were distributed to the redwallers. A stout grayling was caught at the abbey pond and served to the abbey population along with the fruit. this raised serious concerns about food poisoning after nearly half the population got sick from eating the fish. Luckily, the cure for their ailment was found in the form of fresh produce that woodland refugees had managed to sneak into the Abbey, risking their own life and limb to make it to a safe haven. Unfortunately, Redwall was becoming less and less of a safe haven as even with supply reimbursements, food would inevitably run out. Hope came in the form of reinforcements from across Mossflower and beyond, answering the call for aid.
They came in small bunches, twos and threes, having sacrificed the safety of staying in a troop for the speed of allowing each fighter to make his own way. These winter worn warriors were willing to fight. Unfortunately, not all of the Redwallers saw this. Whereas some were strong and healthy, others were ravaged by the journey, and feeding these poor extra mouths proved a strain to the redwallers. nevertheless, they were treated the same. after all, any reinforcement was welcome. Once the entire relief force settled in, Remmy realized she was outnumbered seven to one. Although the odds, she continued to scheme against the abbey. Drawing, planning and finally, mobilizing. For days on end, she prepared. Until the day came.
The day of Remmy's attack was like any other day, except for the faintest of winter drizzles that always seem to accompany dramatic events. A light mist seemed to permeate everything, the tin helmets of the ferret footbeasts, the cold masonry of the battlement crenulation, and the linen tunic of more than one field mouse archer. When Remmy's army approached, there was no shouting, no negotiating. On silence. The time for negotiations had passed. And everybeast knew it. The first attack began, a roar worth hundreds of vermin as the horde swarmed towards the Abbey gates. Arrows flew, battering rams were raised. Hours seemed to pass without either side gaining much leeway. By this time, the faint winter drizzle had developed into a full blown thunder storm, lightning oft striking dangerously close to the Abbey. As the sun fell, Remmy took a segment of her force towards the main gate, with ladders and shields. The force was met by a stream of arrows but managed to dig in for the night. Down the line, fire arrows were prepared but to no avail, as the vermin archers couldn't get in range without getting hit by a platoon of archer hares. Around midnight, the battle stopped. Everyone patched up wounds, repaired fortifications, all in wait of the next boom of thunder to come rolling out of the deepening night. Though grateful for the temporary reprieve, the chance — and threat — of subterfuge kept both armies alert. Sentries squinted hard into the chaotic gloom, blinking away raindrops and rubbing afterimages from their vision as they tried to spot enemy movement through flashes of lightning, ears pricked for the scuffle of unfamiliar pawsteps. Then, from among Remmy's front-liners, there was a great flash of light. For a moment, the Redwall lookouts thought that the road before the Abbey had been struck by lightening.
But the light lingered. So did the heat. It was fire. Stoked with oil-soaked rags and grease from the hoard's larders, the water-immune blaze was planted at the Abbey's gates. No one in Redwall had thought the vermin would try such a thing in the storm, and so they were unprepared. A hail of arrows were released but to no avail. The vermin ram struck the main gates. Once! Twice! Thrice! The woodlander archers managed to stop it, but only after the main gate was smoldering and in flames. Vermin ballistae were set up at the gate, but were silenced by shrew longbows. Down the line, a squad of otters managed to engineer a primitive crossbow, but it did little to aid the efforts aside from adding marginally more firepower. A chain of beasts transporting buckets of water from the pond orchestrated themselves to put out the fire on the main gate. It was a futile effort, however, as the hot oil fires only roared hotter, and the troops on the wall top above began to feel the heat. In an hour, the gate was well and truly destroyed.
Forced to retreat from their beloved red walls, the weary and heart-sore Redwallers fell back to the Abbey itself. Difficult decision had been made the night before, including breaking out of windows to form arrow slits and purging the floor of Great Hall of furniture to make room for warriors and wounded. Dibbuns and grownbeasts alike looked on with resigned dread as their bed frames became barricades and their sheets became stretchers. The next phase was about to unfold, ushering in another round of pitched combat. Through the shadows and smoke, the fire and the flood, desperate tension kept weapons close to paw; vermin and the foebeasts had breached the sanctity of Redwall before, but never quite like this. Those unfit for battle were shepherded (or carried) ever deeper into the abbey, away from the broken windows and shielded behind ranks of stalwart defenders. Waving a ladle aloft, one of the apprentice cooksattempted to raise morale, but to no avail. Meanwhile, along the front lines, snipers were put into great use. Any vermin trooper that was exposed quickly found an arrow extruding from their side. By nightfall, Remmy decided to launch an attack on the Great hall. The attack commenced. Though the Woodlanders were outnumbered, they were fighting on their home turf, and they fought with fury. Though fourscore were lost to vermin spears, the woodlanders repulsed the foebeasts from the inner sanctum of the Abbey.
Spring the ottermaid and her sister, Cress, were two among the survivors of the assault. Standing near a window-frame-turned-arrow-slit, Cress held her sling ready for vermin silly enough to leave the cover of the orchard, while Spring bandaged her paw. Somewhat nervously, Spring whispered "What's goin' on out there, Cressy?"
"Nothin' if those vermin knows what's right for 'em. Wait a moment, over by the peach trees, there'sa hare!"
Sure enough, Baldwin was ducking and weaving his way through the orchard. In the retreat, the Redwallers had abandoned their witless prisoner in the gatehouse, now it seemed he had escaped.
"Should we alert somebeast?" Cressy asked. Spring nodded, disappearing to find somebeast to pass the word on. Cressy returned to watching the grounds, but Baldwin had disappeared. Behind cover, Baldwin met up with his vermin comrades with a wide smile.
"I've got a plan, mates."
Of course, having a mad hare spring up on you is the least that can happen to you in one day, but one young vermin called Shardtooth did the most reasonable thing a vermin would do when meeting an unfamiliar hare, that is, stringing your bow and firing at him. The ordinary hare, at this point would be mortally wounded and sing a song about his demise. But Baldwin was no ordinary hare. Instead of the desired effect, Baldwin snatched the arrow out of thin air, waving it under Shardtooth's nose tauntingly. Angry, embarrassed, and mildly confused, Shardtooth the rat drew his scimitar and advanced on Baldwin, only to have his tail stepped on by Remmy the Baker. She emerged threateningly from the shadows, a scary glint in her eye.
"E's one of us Shardtooth. Git outta my way." The rat gulped and retreated, not wanting to test Remmy's temper. "Now then, wot's yer fancy plan Baldwin?" asked Remmy.
Baldwin cringed upon hearing his name.
"I tole you, chieftess, its Badtooth now," the hare corrected, unperturbed by Remmy's resulting scowl. "Anywhop, there's no need for the whole hoard to go after one door you see. The abbey place s'got way more than one, not like their big walls. Wes gotta do is hit 'em all! A rat covered in sores can't swat away all the flies at once, hah hah har!"
Remmy studied the hare with a leer. Admittedly, she hadn't had time to fully realize, the vermin's invasion of the grounds hampered by the Redwaller's constant barrage of ammunition that they unleashed behind makeshift barricades. The troops were scattered, and despite their proximity to victory, the woodlanders wouldn't just let the horde run over them even now.
"Right 'den. We's split 'da forces up, n' attack all at once."
In the Great Hall, Spring the otter was kneeling in front of the tapestry of Martin the Warrior with dampened eyes. "Please Martin. So many beasts have won the peace in seasons past, don't let us be the ones to lose it for seasons to come," the ottermaid offered, her voice beginning to choke up at the thought of the dark future of posterities under Remmy's claws. She couldn't look upon the legendary tapestry, made splendid by Martin's many victories. They weren't worthy of such glory. Tears slipped to the floor as Spring's head hung low. Their very way of life was one of loss.
Suddenly, a flash of light engulfed Spring.
"Spring, you are not alone, your warrior ancestors watch over you. Follow their advice." A voice, comforting yet firm, told her.
Spring looked up. In front of her was the patron of Redwall himself, Martin the Warrior, flanked by two warrior otters. Martin drew a sword from his belt, presumably the great sword of Redwall, and handed it to Spring. He continued.
"Spring, with my sword at your hand and your intelligence, you are the ideal warrior."
Spring held a weapon. She saw a blade with shining metal, keen edge, and beautiful pommel. She was the chosen one. Like so many before her, she would save Redwall. "You hear that, Mossflower?! I'm here ta'save Redwall!!!" Spring shouted hoarsely, pointing her weapon in the air, though in her vision she sounded heroic, proud, and warrior-like.
A voice cut through her hallucination. It was not Martin. It was Cress, sighing wearily. "Spring, dear, why are you holding that broom in the air like that?"
Spring was crestfallen, the beautiful jewel-hilted sword fading away to an ordinary wooden broomstick. Her eyes cleared and she realized she was brandishing it as a weapon towards her sister, who herself looked on with a mixture of confusion and disapproval.
"I thought... I swear I heard... But there..." Before Spring could collect her thoughts and figure out what had just happened to her, she was interrupted by shouts echoing throughout Great Hall. Windows shattered, the main door began bulging from battering, and all at once a guttural cry was heard, "LET THEM EAT CAKE!"
Outside the walls of Great Hall, the great Baker urged her troops through the hallowed stained glass windows. "Use glass, use chairs, use sconces, use ANYTHIN' you can find to give youselfs da edge! Dis can all be rebuilts when dese woodlanders are ours slaves!" Vermin eagerly began to grab for the broken shards of metal lattice that had stained glass it once framed still attached. Something about broken red glass on a metal spike seemed more sinister.
The Skipper of otters was first to react, tearing away from Sister Sage who'd been bandaging his torn paw. With no time to lose the otter whirled a stone towards the nearest window, shouting hoarsely.
"FALL BACK! Fall back to Cavern Hole!" Across the Great Hall, Spring and Cress were caught in a dire position. Spring grappled with a runty weasel, using her broom as a quarterstaff. Next to her, Cress was fighting valiantly, frying pan in hand. Remmy surveyed the scene as vermin swarmed the Redwallers.
"SURRENDER FOOLISH SCUM" Remmy ranted, but to no avail. A salvo of stones forced Remmy to duck under a table, quite undignified. Meanwhile the battle raged on. Spring had managed to disarm her adversary, while Cress had managed to take out a platoon of vermin. Meanwhile, farther down the line, a regiment of hares under a certain Colonel Ragamuffin managed to break the line and began a wild charge to reinforce other parts of the line. This opened a gap so other woodlander reinforcements could fill it, which in turn allowed Meadow, a young hare patroller, to force her way through to Remmy. The ferret chieftess had taken position atop a table, allowing for a commanding view of Cavern Hole when Meadow tore through. A flying leap with Meadow's short cudgel was narrowly blocked by Remmy, shortly followed by the haremaid crying, "Give back my Baldwin!"
Remmy's snarl contorted into a wicked grin, kicking Meadow she yelled "Ha! You thinks that your hare was de only one to partake me cake? I think it's time you met our reserves!"
"Reserves? Wot reserves?" A young hare barked. He found out soon enough. A flurry of arrows put him into enlightenment. As the hare slumped forwards, never to rise, a call erupted from the rear of Remmy's lines. It was a hunting call, a dirge of mixed rage and lust for blood. To the Redwaller's shock, Remmy's lines parted, and out tramped a unit a Woodlander would wish not to meet.
They were White ermines, cloaked in animal pelts, with crossbows, axes, and short, curved blades. Each looked to be enough to take on a grown otter, beast for beast, and that was not all. Flanking the elite group were woodlanders, seemingly oblivious to their proximity to the evil ones. Each supposed goodbeast held a simply spear and a wicked scimitar, the latter they dociley gave to their ermine comrades. The spear they kept for themselves, turning the point at the Redwallers.
Remmy looked down at Meadow imperiously. "HAH! Not only do me confections make good servants, but fighters most loyal! Those of yous who survive will partake me cake and join their ranks!"
Remmy's voice carried, through to Cavern Hole and all the way down to the kitchens, where Friar Tish was clutching her ladle, listening intently to the sounds of battle above. That was it! Remmy had just let slip the last piece of the puzzle. Tish had long suspected there was more to Remmy's title of Baker than met the eye, she must dose her confections with something! There was always an antidote to such things, but what exactly? Tish surveyed the discordant mess of mixing bowls around her, what was the missing ingredient? Suddenly, as fate would expect it, Friar Tish was met by an ecstatic Brother Joshua, battered up and injured from the ensuring battle, but fresh from making a new discovery.
"Oi Tish matey! I've discovered a lead to our predicament!" The enlightened Brother began, but was cut off by a Clatter of a dropped ladle, accidentally dropped by the Friar in her excitement. "Y'see" Brother Joshua continued "I noticed stains on the possessed woodlander's mouths, and only a few poisonous mixtures that damage the mind stain, so therefore Th' poison Remmy used musta contained mustard seed! It's the only possible explanation!"
Tish's eyes widened. It was true, it all made sense. The erratic and insane behavior had to have been caused by highly concentrated amounts of mustard seed! Which meant... Tish grabbed the nearest ladle and started pulling ingredients off the shelves haphazardly, moving with urgency as the battle grew ever closer outside. A bag of flour was knocked aside and spilled all over the side. Just outside the kitchen door, there was a terrible slam and a scream.
"I know what we need, I just need more time."
But time was a luxury that Joshua nor any Redwaller could guarantee. Outside, the battle was still raging hot. The ever fewer Redwallers who could still stand on their own two paws were being pressed into ever tighter quarters. Two things kept the meager band of woodlanders from being completely overrun, though. One was that there was an ever decreasing frontage to defend as the defenders were pushed back from Cavern Hall into tighter hallways, and two was the increasing amount of vermin who were stopping short to begin looting, especially once the cellar was captured. It seemed now the battle was more spread out, with bands of vermin looting the cellars, leaving their more bolder comrades to wander throughout the labyrinth known as the upper hallways of Redwall abbey. Lost and alone, these vermin were prone to woodlander guerrilla attacks. within the first few hours after the initial collapse of the redwallers' lines, about nine score vermin were lost to surprise attacks, leaving the rest of the horde rattled.
By now there were three major pockets of woodlander resistance. The first was the kitchens, with Friar Tish looking for a cure to Remmy's cursed cake, the second was the gatehouse, where woodlanders had barricaded themselves in, and a final small group held the attic. In this group Spring found herself, desperately forcing down the trap door to resist a pounding vermin ram. Things were bleak, made more frightening still by the fact that many of the enemy manning the ram were Remmy's corrupted woodlanders. Spring was reflecting on how she had recognized a few from before, when suddenly the ramming ceased, and she heard a voice from below.
"Spring! It's me! Hurry 'an let me in!" It sounded like Cressy.
Spring's first instinct was to open the trapdoor, but paranoia stopped her in her tracks. The other woodlanders stared at her as she hesitated, each one more browbeaten and exhausted than they'd ever been before. Confusion hung in the air. There was relief that the constant bombardment on the trapdoor had ceased but also uneasy anticipation of what might come next. Spring knew no matter how much she wanted it to be Cressy on the other side of that door, that didn't mean it was.
"Cressy?" Spring's voice was dry and cracked. "Where did all the vermin go?"
Cress' voice was muffled as it returned through the trap door. "There's no vermin down here! They're all busy looting! Oh please hurry up!"
"But they were just...pounding. How'd they scram so quick?"
"Search me, Spring. Just let us in before they come scramming back!"
Us? Cress hadn't said there was an us. Spring was feeling increasingly uneasy, and fearful glares from the woodlanders warned her to not open the door. Preparing to prod further despite herself, Spring was startled by a ferocious scream from the other side of the trap.
"BLAST IT SPRING! WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"
Well, they're in the kitchen now so if you want you can have him end up there maybe? Or near them?
2024 can be the year of your return 