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This, Elmseed thought, is what happens to bad Sentinels when they die. The storm had arrived suddenly, without even a cold breeze to send her home to her nest. As the snow fell, she panicked, knowing only to get inside something fast. The narrow crevasse had seemed a good place to be alone, but much to her chagrin, a trio of small, fluffy, noisy things had popped in after her. A small gray thing, a small brown thing, and the worst of the lot, a small black thing which wouldn't stop screeching. Noctus. Fledglings. Elmseed didn't hate the small and helpless, far from it. She could appreciate the sweet peepings of a hatchling, but fledglings... Elmseed had often wondered why Sentinels couldn't just skip that irritating stage and go straight to the sleek, impressive adults they turned into. Fledglings talked too much, they flew too slow, and they were... Did that thing ever shut up? The screechings of the little Shadow were too much to bear.

"Glearch!" she screamed, mimicking the cry of an angry Lani. Now there was a good bird. Compact, yet fast, and not what you'd call vocal. The shriek seemed to do the trick, as the three of them looked at her with watery eyes, dangerously close to leaking. She stared back at them, watching. Their beaks quivered, then suddenly, they exploded into a cacophonous cornucopia of wailing cries.

"Where's Uncle Liam? Where's Uncle Medlar? I WANT ROTH!"
"WHERE'S MY MUS? I LOST MY MUS! HE'S FREEZING OUT THERE!"
"I'm hungry!"
"I'm scared!"
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!" The Shadow seemed to have forgotten his words, merely screaming his fuzzy little head off.
"MAKE THE SCARY NOISE GO AWAY!"
"It's dark!"
"It's cold!"
"I want my Minder!"
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"

What had she done during her life? What had she done to deserve this? She must have eaten three Lepuses, then thrown the bones at the Brigadier and laughed while she pledged her allegiance to the Spectres! What could be worse than this?

And in an instant, she knew. Only one thing could be bad enough to make these screaming harpies shut their beaks in fear...

"Oy!" she shouted to be heard above the din of the terrified fledglings. "Have you ever heard of..." she swallowed hard, loathe to divulge the very name of the horrid tale, "Pip Squeekins and the Big Bad Parus?" She screwed her eyes shut and grimaced. Pip Squeekins had been the bane of her existance from the time she was in the nest. She'd hated the story as a child, but she was no bard, nor was she a minder, nor did she have any experience with fledglings. Her position as a Hunter didn't put her in close contact with anything cute and fluffy that she wasn't swiftly devouring within moments, or else preparing it for someone else to devour. But she had a feeling that these innocents wouldn't like to hear tales of gore and prey. No, they were barely fledged themselves by the look of it. Perhaps Pip Squeekins would go over well with them.

The noise quelled immediately. The ittle Ghost stared up at her. "Pip? You'll tell us of Pip?" His large eyes were filled with adoration and hero worship. He battered the Deep Woods female with a wing until she was quiet. "The big one shall tell us of Pip!"
"Pip!?" she exclaimed, equally excited. "It's been days since I last heard of Pip! Oh, Pip! Pip, Pip, Pip! The cuterest Mus in the land!" She skipped about, singing slightly off-key. Elmseed moaned softly. Great. Here she was, trapped in a tree with a trip of Pip-lovers. Did they not realize what an awful character he was? The shrieking Shadow forgot his woes and joined in her jubilation.

"Woah, woah. Stop moving. If you want me to tell you of..." she stopped for a hard gulp. "Pip... Squeekins... you have to sit still and be absolutely silent. Not a peep out of you!" She glared at them sternly, to see if they understood. The three stock-still fledglings nodded solemnly at her. Mus tails! They really wanted to hear this story! Heaving a heavy sigh, she fluffed herself and coughed twice before beginning.

"All right. Once upon a time, there was the most adorable, sweet, caring Mus boy in the whole entire forest. His name was-"

"PIP SQUEEKINS!" the fledglings chorused happily.

"Do you want to hear this story or not? I said you had to be quiet!"

"We're sorry! We're sorry! Tell the story! Please!" Elmseed wanted to stop, but the Shadow looked dangerously close to crying again.

"And his name was Pip Squeekins. One cold winter's day, Pip noticed that his poor old Grannymus was looking ill. She had droopy whiskers, and her ears weren't nice and perky like his were. And worst of all, her tummy grumbled whenever she walked. 'Grannymus, what's wrong?' Pip Squeekins asked, in his most adorable small voice. 'Oh, don't you worry about me, dearie Pip. I'm just getting old, and this winter is getting to my bones," his poor old Grannymus replied. 'Here, listen.' Pip Squeekins put his ear down to his poor Grannymus's leg and listened. "Oh my my, Grannymus!" Pip exclaimed. 'What creaky legs you have!'" Elmseed mentally reminded herself to seek out and make hors d'oeuvres out of any creaky Mus she could find. The fledglings seemed to glare at her for stopping, so she braced herself and continued. "'Grannymus, what would make you feel better?' queried Pip sweetly. 'Oh, only being here with my only grandmus,' chuckled his Grannymus. 'Besides, it is cold, and you can't get me anything in this weather. What would your Mummymus thing, all warm in Mus Heaven while her only son was out in the cold?' 'Oh, poor, dear Mummy," Pip whimpered. "All alone, missing her Mummy and her darling boy. But she's happy there, right Grannymus?' 'She's very happy, dear, and I'm very happy with you.' But Pip Squeekins still wasn't satisfied. He knew that his Grannymus dearly loved berries, and that they had none. But maybe he could find some berries outside! That night, when he was preparing dinner for his poor achy Grannymus, he decided that, in order to find some berries for her, he would sneak out while she was asleep. While mixing her favorite dried greens and root shavings, he decided to add some valerian, as he knew that this made her sleep even better and have the best dreams. 'After all,' he reasoned, 'it's all for her.'" Cor... how could they like this stuff? Here was this freakishly cute baby Mus drugging his only living relative so he could go on a suicide mission. Nevertheless... was the Shadow opening his beak? Hurriedly, Elmseed continued with the story.

'When Grannymus was snoring softly, Pip Squeekins danced out of the burrow. The snow was silver in the moonlight, and he squeaked and skipped and frolicked. He noticed his shadow on the ground. 'Hello, Mr. Shadow!' he whispered, giggling. 'Would you like to dance?' He nodded, so Mr. Shadow would nod, too, then he began a slow skipping dance in a circle around the burrow. But Pip Squeekins was not alone."

Elmseed bowed her head, depressed at the memory. Each time she'd heard this thing as a fledgling, she'd hoped so much that Pip Squeekin's companion was a Martes with wicked sharp teeth, or a Sentinel... maybe a pretty Aberrant... but noooooo. It couldn't be something wonderful like that... instead...

"A pretty Skurri girl scrambled down the tree nearest PIp. 'Hello!' she said. 'May I dance with you?' Pip Squeekins didn't know her, but she was oh-so-pretty, and oh-so-cute! Her whiskers twitched attractively in the moonlight, and her ears came to lovely points. Pip Squeekins felt himself becoming bashful. 'Of course! I would love to!' Giggling, he took her paws in his and they skipped around the clearing. The stars sparkled through the small gaps in the trees, and the happy pair only stopped when they were out of breath. 'My name is Pip Squeekins,' gasped an estatic Pip. 'I'm looking for berries for my dear creaky Grannymus. Do you know where any are?' 'I'm Flicker Brushbrush, and I'm sorry to say I don't know where any are,' the Skurri replied sadly. 'But maybe Mr. Snugglelumpkins has some!' 'Who is Mr. Snugglelumpkins?' asked Pip ignorantly. 'Mr. Snugglelumpkins is the kindest bunny rabbit ever!' trilled Flicker Brushbrush. 'He lives on the other side of the clearing!' 'I must find him! Will you go with me? Please?' Pip Squeekins looked up at her with his big, black button eyes. It broke her heart to say no, but she had to. 'I'm sorry, I really am. But I must go back up and take care of my seven sisters and brothers.' Pip understood. 'I understand. But thank you!' He set off bravely across the snow to find Mr. Snugglelumpkins."

Snugglelumpkins? How she hated this story! She stared at the thin stretch of sky through the opening of the crevasse. May the Brigadier eat my Skurri! It was still snowing, and the wind still howled, though the wood did much to dampen the sound. Ever mindful of the Shadow, she continued the story.

"Pip waved goodbye cutely to the Skurri girl as she scampered up her tree, then set off across the great wide clearing to find some berries for his beloved, poor old Grannymus." The words were poison in her beak. The saddest bit was up ahead, the bit that dashed her greatest hopes as a hatchling, the bit that drove her to become a Hunter, just so she could prevent this from ever happening.

"Just then, Pip noticed a shadow. This shadow frightened Pip! It looked like something was in the sky that might eat him! He ran from the shadow, but it followed him. Ducking and weaving, Pip tried to hide from the shadow, but it was catching up with him! His thoughts turned to Mummymus and what she had taught him about hiding from scary shadows, and he tried to find a hole to slide down on his fuzzy belly so that the shadow might not catch him. Alas, there were no holes to be found. And the shadow was getting bigger! He did not understand that the maker of the shadow was coming closer, because Mummymus never told him all of how to evade spooooooky shadows, but he felt claws on his back! Terrified, he ran faster and faster and bumped his poor nose on a tree! This was the end! Poor Pip Squeekins was a goner!"

For the first time that evening, Elmseed smiled happily. Why couldn't the story end here? In her world, that shadow was the pretty Aberrant from before, and she was about to get a hot meal. However, a small black wing nudging her foot quickly snapped her back to reality.

"I said no moving!"

"B... but... what happens to Pip?"
"Yeah, the story!"
"Eeeee-"

"No! Don't start that again! I'll go on!" Elmseed whimpered submissively. What had happened to her? What had happened to the proud huntress who, despite her coloration, had made a name for herself as being fierce and quick to dispose of the noisiest of prey? Once again, she reflected on the distinct possibility that this really was what happened when a Sentinel died wicked. Maybe Noctus was really a Skurri or something.

"As Pip Squeekins cowered adorably against a tree, ready to accept his fate, his last thoughts were of poor Grannymus. Would she ever get her berries? But then, he heard laughing. 'Fooled you!' He looked up from his paws. A fat, ugly Parus the color of Lepus droppings was sitting on the snow, laughing at him. 'What did you do that for?' asked Pip. 'I don't think it was very nice.' 'But it was funny!' snickered the Parus. 'Why should I be nice?' 'I don't think your Grannyparus would like you being mean,' warned Pip as nicely as he could. The meanie Parus got all sad at that. 'You're right! I'm sorry!' he chirped. 'I must go home to her and tell her how much I love her!' With that, he flew away, leaving poor Pip Squeekins tired, sore, and very, very lost."

She sighed, resisting the extreme temptation to add the line "And then Pip was found and then mostly eaten by the beautiful Aberrant, who took his remains home to her hunky male friend and they lived happily ever after and never made anything that could turn into a fledgling." Why couldn't the story go that way? She stared down at those expectant faces, the Shadow's speaking a thinly-veiled threat to break out into screeching again. A tear almost slipped from her eye as the worst part of the story came up.

"Pip Squeekins staggered around, cute as ever, holding his poor, sore, bruised nose. But what was that up ahead? Why, it was the burrow of a family of bunny rabbits! Pip Squeekins, fur clinging adorably to his narrow frame, dragged himself by his adorable paws to the edge of it and thumped feebly, making a small, cute sound. This small, cute sound was enough to bring the biggest bunny rabbit, Mr. Snugglelumpkins himself, hopping straight to the edge of the burrow. 'Why, it's Pip Squeekins!' he declared, for everybody in the forest knew and loved Pip Squeekins." Noctus, if I could just die now... "Mr. Snugglelumpkins was concerned for Pip Squeekins. How could such an adorable Mus be so far away from his friends and family? They must be so worried! He cradled the fuzzy Pip Squeekins in his furry paws and carried him inside his den where Mrs. Snugglelumpkins and their nineteen adorable baby bunnies had a nice meal of carrots and grass waiting for him. He ate and chatted, and ate some more, and what did the bunnies have for dessert? Why, berries! Pip Squeekins suddenly remembered why he was there! 'Please, sir,' he said. 'I want some more.' 'So many berries for such a little Mus!' rumbled Mr. Snugglelumpkins. 'What can you be doing with them?' 'I want to take them to my poor, sick, tired, sweet Grannymus, who loves berries!' Pip piped. 'Oh, how wonderful!' cooed Mrs. Snugglelumpkins, nodding to her nineteen children. 'Hooray for Pip Squeekins! shouted the bunny children, who jumped on him in a furry cornucopia of love. Mr. and Mrs. Snugglelumpkins applauded, and Mr. Snugglelumpkins said that he would take all his berries back to Pip Squeekins burrow right away! And then..." Something in Elmseed snapped.

"And I can't take this inane drivel any more!" she burst out, furiously preening her chest feathers. She daren't look at her audience. That horrid Shadow was going to start screaming again, she just knew it... w.. why was it silent? She looked up with one eye. All the fledglings were asleep, snoring softly. Elmseed sighed, her worst fear allieviated. Hopefully they'd stay that way for a while. She could only tell that story once.

The sooner this storm was over, the better.

“ Move! Come on, shuffle around me!”

A most unforgiving wind had begun to how outside, barely audible over the wailing inside the little hollow in which Dashwood now found herself stuffed. What she was trying to was in the best interest of the fledglings – she was trying to squeeze past the so that she might be closest to the door and therefore block some of the cold and snow that the wind was driving in – but the panicked fledglings couldn’t seem to comprehend that. They were too busy squalling and squealing, making her poor ears bleed with the disjointed cacophony renting the air.

' I hate fledglings.' Was the single dull thought that crossed her mind before she could no longer withstand their wailing.

“ Be silent!” she roared, and to her utter amazement the fledglings fell silent. Heaving a mental sigh she forced her way through the trio of featherbrains and plopped down with her back to the door, shivering slightly as the first icy blast hit her. Opening her eyes, she was met with three pairs of large, round, teary black eyes looking at her unblinkingly. Then, all at once they renewed their grating chorus.

“ I’m cold!”
“ Where’s my mama?”
“ … I’m cold!”
“ Where’s Liam? Did he leave me?”
“ … I’M COLD!”

“ Be. Quiet.” She hissed, beak clacking in irritation. Surely she had not been empty-headed when she was their age? Surely she had had some common sense…

~*~

“ Mama, mama! Look at me!”

“ Dashwood! Get down from there, you’ll fall!”

A young Dashwood looked back at her harried mother, shaking her head stubbornly. Earlier that morning Dashwood had discovered a way to get down to one of the lower branches and was determined to show her mother that she could do things on her own. Honestly, her mother just didn’t understand her.

“ Look mama!”

Dashwood was hopping excitedly, slowly going further and further out on the limb until it began to bend beneath her weight. Stopping at the right moment, she puffed out her chest proudly and turned to look at her mother.

“ See mama? I told you I could do- EEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

A sudden gust of wind knocked Dashwood from the willowy branch she had been perched on, sending her toppling down.

“ Mama! Mama! I’m goin’ die! MAMA!”

Suddenly an odd sound filled the air, and with a start Dashwood realized it was her mother. Her mother was laughing at her, laughing at her imminent death! Snapping her eyes opened, she finally realized something was wrong. First of all, she had never hit the ground. Second of all, she was staring a bemused Skurri in the face. Looking around, she gaped when she finally realized what had happened and why her mother was laughing so hard. Her tiny, tiny little wings were flapping like mad, keeping little body suspended in mid-air.

~*~

‘ Okay, maybe I was a bit empty-headed.’ She thought ruefully as she finished retelling her story for the fledglings’ benefit. They had fallen silent shortly after she had begun and had stopped fidgeting when she was about halfway through. Now they were staring at her, an odd, contemplative look on their faces. Finally the oldest, a Deep Woods male named Wingfoot, peeped,“ Wasn’t that kinda stupid?”

Dashwood couldn’t help it; she laughed. Although they weren’t entirely certain why she was laughing the fledglings joined her soon enough, finding the laughter contagious. They laughed long and heartily, and when they finally stopped Dashwood noticed the fledglings dropping eyes and sagging bodies.

“ Well, you three had best go to sleep.”

“ But I’m cold!”
“ I don’t wana!”
“ I can’t sleep unless someone sings to me.”
“ … I’m cold!”

“ Alright, alright, hush! Huddle together,” stretching her wings out, she shepherded the three closer together,“ There you go. Better, yes?”

“ Yes.”
“ I still need someone to sing to me.”
“ Sing to ya’self.”
“ … I’m hungry.”
“ I can’t sing to myself!”

As the three fledglings began to argue amongst themselves, Dashwood briefly turned her attention to the outside, looking at how the landscape had been altered thus far by the blizzard. There was a thick blanket of white that seemed to cover everything, from the ground to the sky itself. The only deviations in this pristine picture were the smattering of leaves that clung stubbornly to its host, covered now in a shimmering coat of ice.

“ Pretty.” She muttered, drawing the attention of the three fledglings.

“ Pretty?”
“ It’s white! There’s nothing there!”
“ … I’m hungry!”

Sighing, Dashwood wriggled as far to one side as she could, allowing a sliver of the world outside to become visible to them. As the silence drew out and no comments were made, she finally resigned herself to speak.

“ It’s beautiful in its untainted simplicity.”

Glancing back at the three pairs of slightly-droopy eyes, she cleared her throat and began to sing in a soft, sweet voice that carried over the winds.

“ Snow falls fast and
Si-lent-ly
Dancing, dancing
Mer-ri-ly

Hear the wind roar
It’s stor-y
Howling, howling
An-gri-ly

Watch as ano-ther
War is waged
‘Tween sk-y and Earth’s
Jea-lous rage

List-en chi-ld
Thun-der beat
With sky’s tears Earth
Can’t com-pete.

While Earth be green and bountiful
Sky be blue and beautiful
Earth has beauty soft and sweet
Sky’s wet tear can-not be beat.

Earth is proud and con-fidant
But Sky’ll be the win-ner yet…”

Smiling tenderly at the now-sleeping fledglings, she turned her back to the door once again and spread her wings out, covering her three blizzard companions gently.

‘ Perhaps fledglings aren’t that bad.’

{{ Yes, that is my sucky poem. Mine! *Beats away with sucky-stick* >.> }}