Here's the end to my Whit fanfic.

Sorry it's so short

Fleck slid along the wall of the building, suspiciously eyeing the other guards standing watch. "Who Goes?" One bellowed, though he could clearly see the short buck in a strange garb not unlike the guards. "My name's… ummm… Parchment? I'm totally a guard, totally not an imposter… heh" the guard grunted and gave Fleck passage into the deeps. Fleck proceeded, watching every corner and angle with cautious care, paying close attention to either side of the cages. Something cold and wet splashed onto the top of his head, something that felt like water, making Fleck jump nearly a foot into the air and bang his head on a low hanging beam." Gak!" "Is that Fleck?" Fleck whirled around to see who's spoken, whipping his sword from it's back scabbard. " It's just me. " "Me? I don't know anyone named me." "Ikker, Ikker Gomeson… hi… " " Oh, it's you. I'm actually looking for you. " Fleck jammed the tip of Captain Moonlights quill into the lock and twisted down. Much to his surprise, the lock clicked and the door swung open. Meanwhile Whit, panicked, gripped the well-wall with two of his hands and pulled himself up. He was halfway to the top, dripping filthy water, and yet the sunlight seemed farther away than ever. The old rabbit below him grumbled gruffly as he watched, waiting for rescue. Whit had already skipped twice, and now, so high up, he wasn't willing to fall. He had to escape, had to bring this older, grouchier rabbit to safety somehow. "Whitbie! Take the rope!" Whit heard, followed by a dramatic bonk to his head by the rope. Whit secured his hands around it as the other rabbit pulled up, and soon Whit was gasping at the top of the well, the cover off. "Winslow?" Whit asked in shock. "Hello Whit." "Are you coming home with me?" "No, I can't, but you made the right choice, little brother." Together, the brothers hauled the elder rabbit up, all while both ends complained. Whit and Winslow went their separate ways, unsure if they would ever be close again. Everyone returned to the citadel of dreams, Whit donned a mask and took up a sword, and from then on he was a causer, proud and true.

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-Fleck