Winter Roze- by Jassa
The Legend of Drako- by Mark Longeras
The Tale of Martin the Warrior- by Irontooth
Rose's Story- by Pearl

Winter Roze- by Jassa
    "Hey, Kayra, pass me a rose."
    Kayra frowned at the younger weasel addressing her.
    "Hey?"
    This time, the younger weasel frowned.
    "Yeah, hey. Oops. Pass me a rose, Kayra."
    "Oh?"
    "Please?"
    Kayra pinched a small, cream colored rose off its stem and handed it to the smaller weasel, Roze. She smiled a little when the weasel gave her a blinding white smile that she, herself could never manage. How happy Roze was. Even when Kayra'd found her as a small, abandoned bundle on the shores that she'd escaped to, Roze's smile had been ever present, a little spark of light in Kayra's dark clouded thoughts. Roze stole a sideways look at Kayra. The older weasel jerked around and glared at the younger.
    " What do you want?"
    "Oh... nothing. I'm sorry."
    Kayra suddenly raked a claw across the rose bush, ignoring all the thorns, and watched the creamy white blossoms flutter onto the ground. Roze often wondered why Kayra didn't like being looked at. But the only time she'd asked, the answer had been something mumbled about someone called Rideback. Roze bent down cautiously and picked the petals up into her basket. When she looked up, Kayra, as usual, had gone, leaving nothing but a trail of disturbed rose petals.
    Roze listened to Kayra's uneven breathing. She knew perfectly well why Kayra's breathing happened to be like this sometimes. One of her ribs was unnaturally converged inward slightly, as if by an enormous force of some sort. Whenever Kayra breathed too hard, her rib would hinder lung action. Whenever Roze asked, Kayra mutered something about setting a ship on fire. Roze knew Kayra was or had been a corsair, because of corsair outfit and ear rings. Roze also had an ear ring, given to her by Kayra. She had no idea why she had it, it was just there. A sudden foul scent suddenly landed itself on Roze's nose. Kayra's dark eyes flashed angrily.
    "Searats."
    "Oh no! What do we do? Run? Hide?" Roze was packing as she spoke.
    "Fight."
    There was a little pause. Then, "Fight? Fight? But we're probrably far outnumbered!"
    "So?"
    "Be serious now!"
    Roze fitted a light pack on her slim shoulders and looked at Kayra. Seeing Kayra's stone cold expression, she gave an impatient sigh and pulled her up. Kayra promptly shook her off but followed Roze along the leave littered path. Roze quickened her pace, hearing the sound of several score beasts moving through the rose patches. She heard the occasional curse and the smell of salts and sweat hung heavily in the air. Kayra's breathing was getting more and more uneven. She only breathed like this whenever she was angry. Kayra hissed and bared her teeth, whispering unintelligible oaths and curses.
    "They've come to take me back, I know it, they've come. But I'll defeat them, oh yes I will."
    Roze suddenly branched off the path, taking Kayra with her. They crouched, waiting, Roze armed with her ever present smile and Kayra, with her strange mutterings. A few searats tottered past, a few paw breadths away from their whiskers. Kayra's whisperings took on a louder volume and Roze could only hope that she wouldn't suddenly leap out and deal out death to every searat she could manage. But she didn't. Luckily.
    It was three seasons after the first happening with searats. Ever since then, searats had come, more and more frequently. Kayra's moods became more and more unpredictable. Roze kept smiling. Searats seemed to be taking the whole country over. On their travels, the two weasels heard that the goodbeasts of Mossflower and Salamandaston were beginning to take action. Although neither Kayra nor Roze saw one of the battles, the number of searats started to dwindle. Until it came to a landed crew of searats whoes captain went by the name of Ridge. When Kayra heard the name, her breath started to jerk out of her lungs in angry, uneven gasps. Her mutterings started again. This time with the reopening of an old wound that had never healed.
    "Not Ridge, oh no. But Ridge is dead. Oh yes, yes, he's dead, I made sure of that. I used him as a boat. Oh yes, yes, that's right. But then who's Ridge? One of his twelve sons? Oh yes, yes. One of his sons. This isn't good. Oh no, not good."
    Roze refused to believe that Kayra was mad. Or anything close to the sort. She decided that Kayra just had a lot on her mind, more than anybeast should have. But Ridge, whoever he was, was not going to get away from Kayra. Roze smiled wryly at the thought. She'd seen Kayra's silver dagger. It was as keen as its mistress.
    It was an early winter morning, brisk, silent, pierced by a blood curling shriek.
    "BLOOOOOD!"
    The cry was like the squall of the wind. It was uttered neither by Roze, nor by Kayra. It was the cry of a group of searats. The most feared in Mossflower presently. And it was close. Close to Roze and Kayra. Too close to run from. But Roze had a long strong staff now. With a sharp bronze tip. And Kayra was still Dirk at best. The two weasels stood one aside another, surrounded by sharp, prickly briar, so they couldn't be surrounded by the searats instead. Kayra twirled her dagger with an unearthly glow in her eyes. Roze looked sideways at Kayra. Upon seeing that strange glow, she shivered a little. This wasn't the Kayra she knew. This was Kayra of the sea. Not Kayra of Mossflower. Suddenly, the first searat rounded the bend. It was cut down by a sharp glint of silver before it could utter a scream. Then next managed a squeak, before the flash of fire hardened wood and the dull shine of bronze punctured his middle. So it went on for more than a score of searats. But suddenly, no more came. The searats had realised the plan. Suddenly, the briars started to rustle. An orange tongue of heat flickered over the tangle. The briar patch was afire! Spitting an oath, Kayra siezed hold of Roze and ran straight over the pile of dead rats. Holding the dagger forward, they charged right into the searats. Caught by suprise, the first few rats were cut down quickly. But the seasoned seabeasts quickly warmed to the battle and converged toward the two weasels. Kayra and Roze stood back to back, thrusting, parrying, twisting and sweeping. Roze had a few small wounds, inflicted by searats who managed to get kind of close but who's lives were snuffed out before they could thrust their cutlasses deep. Kayra had even less. She suddenly ducked and tripped Roze. Roze collapsed just as about half a score of rats flew overhead, their purpose was probrably to knock Kayra and Roze down into the waiting row of sharp cutlasses. Instead, they landed on the sharp gleaming blades instead. Half the small crew was either dead or dying. The others were still coming. Kayra and Roze were getting tired. Gradually, the rats started to swallow them up. When a loud, long battlecry cut through the sounds of bloodshed.
    "EULALIAAAAAA!" A group of extra large long eared beasts charged into view. They decimated the searats in a matter of seconds. But a few were left and fighting strong. Ridge was one. A storm of arrows cut down all but him. Finally, one rangy male stepped forward to take care of him. But Kayra roughly brushed past him and stared hard at Ridge.
    "Scarclaw." Ridge looked visibly startled before recognition for the silver dagger and the female weasel dawned on him.
    "Dirk." The hare looked indignant, but was suddenly called to the side. He nodded at the lone female weasel and crunched through the frost to his fellow beasts. Kayla grinned.
    "You to me, old boy."
    "I told you that I'd get you, weasel."
    "It'll be the other way around, rat."
    Talk ended there. Scarclaw charged and thrust with his cutlass. Kayla parried and thrust. The two old rivals fought on and on, through the clearing. Some hares looked up and watched the fight for a few minutes or so, then turned back to a form near a bush. Several hours later, the battle finished. Scarclaw was dead. The silver dagger flashing triumphantly in his mouth before being ripped out. Finally, Kayla went over to the hares and pushed past them. She pushed through the lot again and kneeled by the still form of Roze. Snow started to fall around the small huddle. Roze smiled her pure white smile again.
    "I'll see you later, Kayla."
    "'Course you will. Nice fight there."
    Kayla noticed the blood stains on Roze's shirt.
    "Thank you."
    "We'll... get together one day."
    "Hey, Kayla, pass me a rose."
    Kayla layed a rose on Roze's small hand and smiled.
    "Good winter, Kayla."
    "Good winter, Winter Roze."
    And Roze died.
    Long seasons afterward, Kayla met Roze along with few other friends- and enemies. She fought again, and again, and never lost. Then she came back. Kayla lived again- so did Dirk.

    Mark Longears awoke in his barraks and decided that he would slay the great worm. Picking up his saber and sling, he walked to the throne room.
    "Milady Streakfur," he asked the wildcat sitting on the throne, "May I have three days leave to slay Drako?"
    "Yes, Mark," She replied. "But take a friend with you."
    As he entered the barracks, he scanned the beasts around him. He chose and otter named Rivertail, and they set out toward the mountains.