One otter, one raven druid wild shaped into an otter, one ex-spy mouse, and her grandpaw awaited Freya when she awoke to feed the remaining chickens.
There was a scent she was unfamiliar with as she stepped out of her home.
A spicy scent- she couldn't identify it- subtly clued her into the two otters speaking softly with her Grandpaw. Each of them had a large frame pack on their back. It must have been some otter peculiarity. She’d heard that Stone's son Chip was some well-known chef. Many of the noble foxes had mentioned his food to Abigail at least.
She quietly walked in between the group.
"Ah good morning, we were wondering when you'd show up lass," Stone said.
Crenshaw and Stone stood by, both taking a stance against the pens.
"Stone? When did you show up? What's this about?"
"It was his idea you should thank the old spy."
Crenshaw grumbled.
And Freya knew that she’d been sold out. She was a bit irritated.
"You told my grandpaw? And Stone?"
"Freya they're all experienced warriors and even they think this is foolhardy. I don't want my uncle Stone to head to the front lines and freelance but if he is going with you then I have an excuse to come along."
Of course, the druids wanted to protect their investment in her. For a second the familiar bond of an otter being an uncle to a raven made her think down a strange path but she snapped back into it.
"All of you are concerned about me but I'll be fine. Just a little jaunt to bring some good food and supplies," Freya said.
"It's wonderful that you want to help out so directly, but war is dangerous just by its nature," Stone said, looking at the two elder mice.
"Don't look at me, she is an adult. If we can send her to social events we can surely send her to the rear echelon," Crenshaw said.
It didn't escape Freya's notice that everyone was already wearing traveling cloaks underneath their packs.
"Hmmm," her Grandpaw nodded.
"It looks to me like you have all already decided, is that correct?"
All of the chickens took this moment to meander to the side of the pen and watch the proceedings. As if on cue, tiny beaks rested on the pen's fencing.
"It looks like the chickens want to go also," River said. She moved to stand next to the chickens and feed them.
"If we are all decided then let's skip the argument and just be about it. Grandpaw there is a package underneath the bench there by the entrance to the pens? Yes that one, open it up."
Grandpaw unwrapped a large package of resin, arrow shafts, and all the parts needed to make dozens if not hundreds of arrows. Jaws dropped around the pens all except for Rivers, whose lips turned into a smile.
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"I used the money I made to purchase all of this and the foodstuffs in the second package. If you would please load that one onto the chicken of your choice we can be off? Stone you could load the other? The chickens are ready."
"You knew this was happening and you…primed us all to be here to help you?" Crenshaw said, handing a pack of wrapped dried goods to the brown otter.
“A lady has to be prepared, at least that is what Lady Raina taught us, now how are we getting there? Who knows the way?”
The only creature that wasn’t shocked by this admission was the druid.
“Well, what about breakfast?”River asked, “ You’re probably going to need a second breakfast at this rate. I know I will.”
Freya nodded.
The wrought iron pens opened, allowing the chickens to move out of their pens. Packs were loaded up and temporary bonds were deemed unnecessary. Chicken Freya assured her that they would all love an adventure and a chance to see the scouts that had left with the other chickens. They didn't even need to stop to say goodbye as they snuck out before the rest of the family awoke.
Freya, by way of explanation, had left a note on the kitchen table.
Family Uki-
Grandpaw and I are ranging out far to acquire more chickens. We may be off for more than a few days, don't worry about us.
Freya
Freya explained what she had done to the group once they were all seated and on their way.
"And you think that your mother and father will read that and understand?" River said.
"I prepared more than one note. A lady has to be prepared."
River nodded. The well-worn path to the front lines was clearer closer to the center of Yellowrock, but they followed it west for two hours until they reached the wall. A massive wall dozens of mice high loomed over them.
It was only the third time that Freya had ever gone this far west. Usually, the distance prevented her from getting there and back without a coach ride.
The path led through a small village that had sprung up on the inside of the gate. Outside it was a bit of farmland, but primarily wild, as beasts roamed the land.
As they pulled to the outskirts of the village of Long tail, Freya took stock in her party.
Both otters looked uncomfortable, but the two elder mice were in their element. River was stoic and even grinned a little at the situation. Her grandpaw as always was in his element. Only Stone looked a bit put off by the long ride, as he was the heaviest among them. His chicken, a Hen who’d named herself Ruby, was ready to push him off to another.
River had threatened numerous times to fly above them rather than riding a chicken but Freya had laughed it off. Now they were dismounting to walk the chickens through the village. It would be important to rest before they left the safety of their nation.
"Outside, you can’t just duck into the nearest structure to save yourself from some of the nastiest beasts," her grandpaw said, "you need to be smart and fast. All the more reason to have someone flying over us."
"That is the power of our coalition, mice like us on the ground, birds in the sky," Crenshaw said," and otters guarding the homeland."
“For a good coin, of course,” Stone said.
“Of course,” Crenshaw replied, “Speaking of which, I heard something about the second breakfast? And while we’re here we should get more food for the road and whoever we encounter on the front lines. There’s a nice place right on the main street that I’ve always enjoyed whenever I had to come through. My treat, if anyone is interested?”
Freya eyed the mouse suspiciously. The chickens did need some rest, but she wanted to keep moving. The way that the others were looking at her, she wondered who was in charge.
“I’m not averse to it, but let’s keep it moving. The chickens are raring to go.”
River eyed her suspiciously, but the two led the way into the village of Long tail, with their newly acquired entourage behind. They all dismounted and walked their way in, greeting the morning crowds. Dozens of rabbits and mice children walked around, playing. They all wore the slightly warm sweaters that indicated it was still winter, but that they were determined to play outside anyway, whether it snowed or not. It rarely snowed, to Freya's recollection, but that hadn’t stopped her mother from putting the fear of it into her.