"The eagles! The eagles!"
"They're here!"
The Avian Warriors of the North Mountains had arrived!
As the first eagles began to dive on the horde, he hare Evin tore her eyes from them to glare at the horde. She lowered her saber until it was pointing at them, and uttered a single word.
"Chhhhhhhaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrggggggggeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"
The remnants of the goodbeast army broke from the forest, roaring up the slope to break like a thunderclap among the vermin. Many vermin fled on the spot and were picked off by eagles and archers, or threw down their weapons in fearful surrounder. Others, however, a good number of them, drew blade and prepared for a fight to the finish. The battle was long and hard against them, but the addition of the eagles had boostered the goodbeast's numbers greatly. They repaid slash for slash, blood for blood.
The last vermin went down just as the sun began to peek over the horizen. The surviving goodbeasts were completely exhuasted, and it was left to the Avian Warriors to sort out the living and the dead, as well as to count their losses.
Cinnan was found to be alive, though barely. She was sent back to the Mossflower Guard on an eagle's back. She survived, of course, but was never really the same again. Oh, she was the same firm and helpful squirrel, of course, but sometimes she would be caught staring into space with a faraway look in her eyes, as if her close brush with death had somehow deepened her understanding of life, and she could grasp it better in her own strange way.
person to finish this story.
(Special thanks to Windace Fleetsilver for writing this story and to you for reading it.)
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