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When his family is taken captive "Ruben" sets out to find and rescue them. |
| Ruben heard the cry, and hurriedly climbed up to Quinn's shoulder and then into his paws. He looked down at the tiny, trembling ball of fur and tried to smile. “Malaki, so you're the one who was hiding in the hole. You're not hurt, are you?” The wide dark eyes of the young squirrel were locked on the enormous raccoon, “He's going to eat me, Ruben.” “No, no he's not,” Ruben reassured, then he turned to face Quinn, “This is Malaki, he's my nephew. You wouldn't hurt him, would you?” “Of course not,” Quinn said, “What kind of friend would I be, if I did something like that?” “Thank you,” Ruben replied. Then, turning back to Malaki he took one of the young squirrel's fore paws and helped him to stand. “Malaki, this is Quinn. He's a friend of mine, you don't need to be afraid of him.” Malaki trembled, but managed a very faint, “Hello, Quinn... sir.” The raccoon's paws lowered, setting the two squirrels off balance. Ruben dropped to all fours and held fast. Malaki, worried he might upset the monster he was perched on, clung to his elder's belt instead. Once near ground level, Ruben helped the little one down, before hopping off himself. Seeing them standing side by side, it was easy to tell that Malaki was still a pup. He was only half the height of Ruben, and was wearing a belt that was a bit too big for him. He also shared the odd markings of the family, those brilliant white patches, scattered over a dark gray coat. Ruben felt a gentle tapping on his back, and looked over his shoulder at the friendly faces of Cavan and Kelly. He smiled, but put a paw to his mouth, asking the kits to stay silent. “Malaki, I need you to meet some other friends...” Ruben began, and the young squirrel followed his gaze and saw the two raccoon kits. He reeled back and threw himself into his uncle. “They really are friends,” Ruben insisted, patting Malaki's shoulder. “This is Kelly and Cavan. They're Quinn's niece and nephew... you know, I bet you're all pretty close to the same age.” “I'm sorry to cut the introductions short,” Quinn said, sitting beside the two squirrels and pointing at the youngest, “But do we know how this one came to be on his own out here?” Fearing that the raccoon was going to snatch him up again, Malaki turned and clung to his uncle as tightly as he could. Ruben looked down, “That is a good question. How did you end up alone out here, Malaki?” The young squirrel swallowed what fear he could, and directed his answer at Quinn, “I escaped,” he said, “Two days ago. I slipped away while the guards were sleeping, but they saw me go. Dad saw me go too. He told me to keep running. Those two guards were chasing me the whole time... I thought they had me today.” “Alright then,” Quinn said, straightening himself, “We'd better get moving. It should be easy enough to track the two villains we frightened off.” “Then you'll help me?” Ruben asked, staring up at his friend with wide, hope filled eyes. “Why do you think I came looking for you? Of course, I'll help! The kits will do what they can too, but...” Quinn scratched at his neck and sighed, “What about the pup? Can Malaki keep up with us?” Ruben looked down at the small, weary figure, his gray and white face streaked with tears. “Maybe if we let him rest first,” Ruben said. “There's no time for that now, we don't want the trail to go cold,” Quinn retorted. “Well, we can't leave him behind.” “I wasn't suggesting that,” Quinn said, “But we need to start moving.” He turned his sights on Malaki and asked, “Will you keep calm, if I carry you?” Malaki's eyes widened in fright, but he took a breath and calmed himself. It was easy to see that the raccoon truly was trying to help his uncle Ruben and in turn, the rest of his family. He took a few timid steps away from his elder and called out, in the steadiest voice he could manage, “I think so. Would you carry me in a paw or... or, in your teeth?” “How 'bout neither?” Quinn retorted, and unfastened the largest bag on his belt. He pulled back the flap, and discarded the contents. A small collection of river stones, several large walnuts and a well-worn, gopher-hide sling all tumbled out. Quinn tied the ends of the sling loosely together and hung it 'round his neck, he looked at the river stones in disappointment. All that good ammunition, wasted. Finally, he set the empty bag on the ground, “There, I think you'll fit. I won't close it up either. If you like, you can climb out and ride on my shoulder, when you feel brave enough.” Malaki looked in the bag, it was big enough for him to curl up in and take a nap. Then he glanced at the pile of smooth stones, he knew what they were for. He backed away from the bag, and took in the deepest breath he could. He summoned his courage and scurried, quick as lightning, climbing up Quinn's belt and shoulder strap, and perched on the great furry shoulder. “This is fine, thank you,” he said, and took a tight grip as Quinn stooped over to refill and reattach his bag. After Quinn tied the bag back on, he glanced down at his friend. He stretched out a paw, “Did you want to come up too?” he asked. “No thank you,” Ruben said, and bounded off in the direction the ermines had fled. As they walked, Quinn took advantage of the situation and began a tracking lesson with the kits. “See here,” he said at one point, “This groove on the left of this paw print. You see he was dragging something here, and since there's only one back paw print, we can be pretty certain that he was dragging his own leg... but not for long, the tracks even out again up this way.” Ruben was close by, and paying far more attention to the lesson than Cavan or Kelly. He could see that the raccoon was far better at tracking than he was, and was eager to learn. He dashed ahead, though not far, and called out, “He drags it again up here! It seems to go off and on.” “Could be wounded,” Quinn said as he caught up, “He might have bashed it when he was running away. If that's what happened, he'll slow his friend down. That's not really so good for us. We want to catch up to the main party as fast as we can.” “Well then, let's hope he recovers,” Ruben said dryly, and continued to follow the trail. Realizing that the enemy was moving slowly, forced the others to slow their own pace. They didn't want to get so close that the ermines knew they were being followed. For a time, they went slow enough that Malaki climbed down from Quinn's shoulder and walked on his own paws. He walked with Ruben and also joined the tracking lesson. In fact, it was Malaki who first noticed a change in the tracks and asked, “What do you think happened here, Quinn?” His curiosity had overshadowed his fear in the moment, but the young squirrel still jumped when one of Quinn's paws landed beside him. Quinn gave a low, uneasy growl and wrapped another paw around Malaki. “I think we can start traveling faster again,” Quinn said. “Why?” asked Ruben, “What's happened?” “The one that was limping is dead,” Quinn replied bluntly. “You see where these tracks are mixed up? And look to the right, there's coyote tracks... they stop suddenly and turn back on themselves. Well, the ermine who wasn't hurt, he must've seen the coyote coming, tussled with his injured companion, and shoved him off to be eaten. The one who's alive will be traveling faster now.” At the mention of a coyote, Malaki clung to Quinn's paw, which surprised the raccoon. He scooped up the little squirrel and set him back on his shoulder. “Think it's time for you to be up here again,” he said. Malaki didn't argue. He pressed into the great furry neck and settled there, “Can you fight a coyote, Quinn?” he asked, with some hesitation. “If I had to, I could fight one,” he said, “But I don't know that I'd win that fight. Best thing would be to make for a tree... coyotes can't climb trees.” Ruben was still examining the muddled tracks, trying to see what his friend had seen in them, when a paw was unexpectedly wrapped around him. He looked up at Quinn. “Let's make sure you stay safe too,” Quinn said, and Ruben climbed up to sit on the shoulder opposite of his nephew. |
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