The shrew marched through the forest, unaware that he was being followed. He rounded a bend when he saw several rats blocking his path. They saw him and rushed toward the shrew. Cold sweat gripped him as he thrusted outwards with his rapier, killing a rat. The rats shrieked and one threw a spear at him, landing in his shoulder. The shrew, Spiketail, riped it out and flung it towards them. He turned and ran for his life. But the rats caught up with Spiketail and threw a net on him. They were binding him up when a wolf lunged at them, scattering them like leaves. His eyes shone red as he battered them with his sword. Leaving them moaning on the ground he began dragging the shrew by the ropes. The shrew screamed for help but the wolf did not heed him as he walked through the forest with the shrew in his wake. Bruised from rocks, branches and logs, Spiketail bit his lip to stop crying. When was he ever going to stop?