Bandit Bait

Bandit let's out a soft moan as he stirs. His everything hurts, from the horrible head ache that slowly stretches from his forehead to his neck, to the two sharp pains in his back, to his arms, his feet, even his tail!

His bottom is rather comfortable though being laid out across a soft blanket. Another blanket is drawn out over him, covering the fox's bandaged chest.

"Where am I?" the fox begins, but his words come out in long, painful moan.

"Ah well dang, look who just woke up." Struggling to move the fox simply lays there until the head of a weasel appears over him.

"Bandit! Howdy! I saaaaved you!" The grey furred beast waves vigorously at the fox.

"Th-thanks?" Bandit offers.

"Oh come on! Don't say you don't remember me!" The weasel crouches down beside Bandit. The grey furred beast is wearing a sleeveless blue jacket. "Seriously? Fargo dude, I'm Fargo." When the fox still gives Fargo a confused look he sighs, "Ferravale, Redwall...etc etc. We met! Once or twice..."

The fox raises an eyebrow as he peers over the beast. "You...lost weight..."

The weasel stands up again. "Why is that the first thing people say when they see me...I wasn't THAT big, was I?"

"Yes." Comes a second voice from out of Bandit's vision. Slowly the fox sits up, straining every muscle in his back to do something so simple. He is in a camp. A small one with a single camp fire and two sleeping rolls other than his own. The fire keeps the chill night air at bay. The second voice belongs to yet another weasel, an older brown furred beast who appears to be cleaning his wooden leg.

"Oh you hush. The point is that I lost it, right?"

"Only counts if you were trying." Hershel chuckles. "Welcome back to the land of the living fox."

"Doesn't feel like the land of the living," Bandit whines, "So are you going to tell me how I got here and..." The fox turns to give Fargo a narrow eyed glare, "Weren't you banished from Mossflower? Something about helping Marek take over redwall."

"Supposedly. But who keeps track of such things, right?" The weasel sits down next to the fire. "We found you out in the woods, full of fever and rambling on like an idiot. That was...a week ago, a week and a half?"

"Be grateful to the boy. I thought you were half dead but he insisted on keeping you alive." Hershel finishes his cleaning job then sets the wooden leg aside, "Took up half our rations to do it by the way." The fox raises an eyebrow, then coughs again into his fist. "Well...thanks. I ...sorry, this is just a lot to take in."

"Think nothing of it. You will make better bait for Ageless if your are alive anyway."

"Wait...what?"

Fargo let's out a nervous laugh, "Oh quite teasing the poor beast Hershel, you and your sense of humor." He hopes that the weasel is joking anyway. "Don't mind him. His tail is just tied in a knot cause saving you put us off the hunt for Ageless." This at the very least causes the fox to pause.

"Ageless, as in a big bad snake ageless? I-"

"Yeah, we know already." Hershel grumbles, "You talked all about it while you were-" the older weasel flails his arms about to mimic the fox, "With fever. Just another dead end though, by the time we got to where you were attacked Ageless was gone."

Bandit let's out a small chuckle, "And a good thing too! Why would anyone willingly go hunting a snake?"

"Cause we snake hunters!" Fargo says proudly, "I know, shocked right? Who would have thought that I would end up as a snake hunter." Bandit gives the weasel a look to suggest that he is right, who would believe that.

"Right, your both crazy. That's nice. Now, if you would be kind enough to point me in the direction of Ferravale I would appreciate it. I have an ax to grind with a couple of my guards..." It's Fargo's turn to give Bandit a quizzical eye. "I'm the new head guard of Ferravale." The fox says proudly. The smug smile disappears however when the both weasels let out a hearty laugh. "He must still be with fever."

"It's /true/." Fargo holds up his paws to the fox's growl, "Easy mate. You'll get to the village. It's just a day south of here. We were planning on going down there when supplies got low."

"Why wait? We can leave tomorrow at first light!"

"Why the rush? Does our company displease you that much fox?" Hershel let's out a laugh, reaching behind the log he sits on he draws a violin, setting it onto his lap he begins to tune it. "I'm sorry but you just aren't the center of our universe. We have a snake to find before winter comes and covers over his den. Besides, you would never survive the trip. Not in your condition."

"I can handle myself. I will be f-" the fox tries to stand. His eyes widen out before slowly easing himself into the blankets again. "No...no I can't..." He says through clenched teeth.

Fargo merely rolls his eyes. Standing up he walks over to pull the blanket over the fox, "Rest easy Bandit. We will take care of you. It's all you can do now."

Despairingly the fox is in agreement. Slowly he drifts off to sleep, his dreams are filled with snakes, eagles, and weasels...both literal and figuratively speaking. The things he plans to do to those traitors when he gets back bring him a smile in his sleep...