So many bloody conquests begin with innocent love. So it was with this war. To think that something so small as a kinship between children could spiral into such awful horrors makes one wary of the smallest choices. It is a burden I carry from day to day, especially in this delicate existence. I know he's the same person somewhere deep beneath his heart of stone. Until he lets go of the past, I am fearful of the future.

Ah, the past, the memories! Those childhood games and hours of fun have turned to bloody battle and betrayal at every turn. I shudder to think what people would say if they knew that I was the cause of it all. So here I chronicle the thoughts and stories that weigh upon my mind like stones, from start to finish.

I was running again, the wind rushing past my ears, which lay flat against my head. Shouts of, "We'll get you, Sween Furrow!" echoed in my ears, though I hardly registered the words. I just ran, like always. Running, no refuge ahead and certainly none behind.

My feet dug into the earth, propelling me forward, faster with every step. The woods around me were a blur of red and gold. Autumn in the Great Wood was beautiful, but I never had time to notice it. Not with all the enemies I'd managed to make.

Before I knew what was happening, pain flared in my left leg and I flew forward, ramming into a tree trunk. My foot had caught on a stone and there was no hope of escaping the pack that was hunting me down. The world spun like a kaleidoscope around my head as waves of dizziness clouded my mind. Panic seemed like a distant storm, wild but unnoticed.

"There she is!" Hoots of laughter added to the jumble of sounds that couldn't seem to untangle themselves in my ears.

"Ohh, ain't this sweet!" Janyn Cliffrunner. The name popped into my mind as if brought on a bolt of lightning. "When I'm finished with you, Sweeny, you'll mourn the day your worthless mother gave you life!"

White-hot anger flared in me and I managed to sit up. The distorted figure at the head of the pack loomed over me. I knew I'd never be able to fend them all off but I knew I had to try.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to banish the fog that seemed to have fallen over me. I had opened my mouth to respond when a grey blur appeared out of nowhere and pushed past me.

I stumbled against the tree, staring at the newcomer. He was tall, taller than Janyn, and dark grey. He wore a bright red cape and carried a wooden sword, like many bucks around my age and older did. It was a reflection of rabbit culture; there were so many warrens and wars that a future in the army seemed natural to many. King Goode was working wonders but we knew that a longer war was coming.

The buck raised his sword. "Stay back, Janyn, and leave the doe alone!"

"This got nothin' to do with ya, Longtreader! Get outta the way and we'll leave ya alone. Stay put and-" Janyn trailed off, staring past the grey buck and up the path. His eyes widened in fear. "Wolf! There's a wolf!"

Immediately, the confrontation descended into chaos. Janyn and his pack fled down the trailer, shrieking and shouting and fighting each other to get ahead, leaving me forgotten. The grey buck watched them go, laughing.

I flattened myself against the tree. "What's going?"

The buck turned. His smile vanished. "Are you okay? Can you walk?"

"I... I don't know. But, the wolf...?" I tried to take a step on my injured foot. It gave way beneath me.

"Woah!" The buck caught me as I stumbled forward. "Be careful, miss...?"

I felt my face grow hot. "Sween. Sween Furrow."

The buck grinned. "Nice to meet you, Sween. I'm Garten Longtreader." His dark eyes scrutinized me. "You're going to have a nasty bruise and your ankle looks broken." He shook his head.

I looked around, scanning the forest for danger. "Is there really a-" A screamed clogged my throat. Peering around the corner of the tree was the grotesque snout of a wolf with teeth bared. I hid my face on Garten's shoulder.

"Whit, knock it off! You scared her!"

There was a rustle of cloth and a chuckle. "Sorry. Couldn't help it."

I slowly opened my eyes. Another buck, maybe a year or two younger than Garten, smiled sheepishly back at me. His appearance was strikingly similar to that of Garten, so I assumed they were brothers.

"Sween, meet my little brother, Whittle." Garten sounded flustered. I realized I was still clinging to his arm.

"Oh, sorry! Of course." I recoiled, swaying precariously on my feet before collapsing back into Garten's arms.

Whittle snickered.

I glared at him in return.

Garten cleared his throat, helping me to my feet. "Well, it would probably be best to get you home. Where do you live?"

My heart sank. "Fernsdale."

"Fernsdale?" Whittle exclaimed. "That's nearly ten miles from here! What are you doing so far from home?"

"I... I'm running away." I hung my head, feeling foolish admitting it, just as I felt foolish supported on Garten's shoulder. Then, defiance blazed within me. "But it isn't any of your business, is it, Whittle?" I said his name with as much contempt as I could muster.

"Fine, then," Whittle said, crossing his arms, his wolf mask still grasped in his fist, "we'll just leave you here for the real wolves!"

"Be quiet, Whittle!" Garten snapped, dark eyes flaring. "Of course we're not going to leave her!"

I felt a surge of hope. "But... You'll take me back to town?"

Garten shook his head. "Too far. We'll take you home, to our home!" He seemed proud of this resolution. "It's only a short way from here! Mum will fix you up and probably insist you stay the night... if you want to," he added, sounding unsure.

"I..."

Whittle scowled. "Of course she's coming, Garten, don't act daft! You just said we're not leaving her here!"

Garten rolled his eyes. "Be polite, Whittle, or she'll probably fight us if we try to help her."

Whittle snorted. "I doubt she has it in her."

I felt anger rise in my throat. "I don't, do I?" I struggled to rise to my full height. "I'll have you know that I've fought many bucks twice your stature and thrice your intelligence, not that either is impressive!"

Whittle blushed crimson in anger. "Yeah... Oh, yeah... I..." he spluttered, as though unable to form a complete sentence for his fury.

Garten laughed. "Poor, Whittle! Seems you've met your match for wit and sarcasm, eh?" He smiled down at me. "Let's get you home, then? Mum's sure to have supper ready and waiting."

I felt my anger drain away as I looked into Garten's kind face. "I... Thank you so much."

Garten grinned. "My pleasure, Miss Furrow. Whittle, take her other arm, will you?"

Whittle mumbled something incoherent but obeyed his brother, none too gently.

Together, we wobbled up the path, now shadowed as the sun set, toward a warm fire and steaming soup. Not even Whittle could quiet my happiness.

#TheTraitorsLove #GartenandSweensolongago #WhittleandSween4ever #Moretocome #SorryforanytyposIwaswritingfast Part 2 to come soon!