Chapter 1

Skipper was a big, huge beast, made entirely of bulging muscle and steely sinew. He towered high above all of his otters, standing head and shoulders taller than any in his crew. He was also a handsome creature; there was no other as handsome, with fur of a creamy brown color and eyes dark as tree boughs in the night.

There was no other otter, or in fact, any other creature in all of Mossflower that was stronger, faster, or more skilled in weaponry than Skipper. It was a bit of a rumor that he was a descendant of Deyna Taggerung, but nobeast knew for sure. Not even Skipper himself knew for sure, for both of his parents had not been from the Holt that Skipper ruled over now; they had stumbled into the cave one night, begging for assistance as his mother cried out with birth pangs. She had died in child birth, and the father, who was already well into his middle seasons at the time, had died of old age before his son grew up.

The skipper of that Holt had taken the young otter under his care, as he did not have any children himself. When the young otter began to older, he showed signs of incredible strength unseen for miles, which had started the other otters talking about who his parents really were, and whether or not the young otter was of the line of Deyna Taggerung.

Skipper would've liked to boast that he was a descendant of the Taggerung, but he knew he could never honestly say that if he didn't know for sure, so he simply didn't.

Every morning Skipper would wake up early, earlier than any of his otters, and would do his daily exercise, which consisted of a quick swim the river (Skipper always swam in the opposite direction the water was flowing), lifting heavy objects (Skipper's favorite was heaving boulders and throwing them into the river and then taking them back out; it was said that the Taggerung could do the same), a brisk jog (running all around the territory his holt was in), and sling practice (there was nobeast more skilled than Skipper at this).

One morning, however, something happened.

It was during one of his "brisk jogs" that Skipper wasn't looking where he was going, and--

Whump!

--ended up knocking somebeast into a tree.

"Augh!" screamed the poor creature as it fell to the ground.

Skipper yelped and froze as he beheld a tall, skinny creature slump against the tree trunk, its cloak draped over its face, a haversack laying at its footpaws.

Slowly, the creature brought up its paws and lifted up the cloak to reveal the face of a young ferret, who stared open-mouthed at Skipper with wide brown eyes.

For a moment, Skipper was at a lost for words, then finally he managed, "Oh, sir, I am terribly sorry!"

"Well I never!" said the ferret indignantly as Skipper helped him up.

"I am truly sorry," Skipper said honestly.

"Watch where yer going next time, eh?" the ferret said as he tried to smooth his headfur.

"Oh yes, entirely my fault, here, let me help you," Skipper then began to try to smooth out the ferret's fur with his huge rough paws.

The ferret jerked his head away, his fur in even more disarray.

"Leave my fur alone!" he snarled, as he tried to disentangle his cloak.

"Oh yes, I am so sorry, here, let me help you with that." Skipper reached forward and tried to straighten out the garment for the young ferret.

"Eh, let's see, was it this way? Or was it the other way?" Skipper asked as he accidentally tangled it up more.

The ferret lashed out impatiently. "You--leave my cloak alone!"

Skipper pulled back his paws, abashed. "I am terribly sorry, so rude of me, here, here's your bag--"

The big brawny otter picked up the ferret's haversack, but accidentally picked it up the wrong way so that its contents fell out.

The ferret yelped as his traveling food and extra clothes fell on the dirt.

"Oh!" cried Skipper, truly embarrassed. "I am sorry! Here, let me--!"

"No, no!" the ferret snapped, kneeling down.

"Oh please, I insist, I've been rude enough already. . . ."

As they both kneeled down, their heads bonked together.

"Ow!" the young ferret cried, falling over.

"Oh dear me! I am so sorry!" Skipper said, ignoring the small pain in his own head, knowing that his head was harder than the ferret's. "Here, let me--are you hurt bad?"

The ferret jerked himself away, angry tears in his eyes, and began picking up his food and clothes from the ground.

"Oh, do accept my apology, sir! I-I didn't mean. . . ." Skipper trailed off as he began to assist in retrieving the ferret's things.

Both the otter and the ferret tried picking up the things from the ground and putting them back into the haversack. Skipper held up one particular garment nervously.

"Eh. . . ."

The skinny ferret looked up and saw what Skipper was holding. With wide, startled eyes, he snatched it away, growling, "You leave my things alone!"

"Listen, sir, I am terribly sorry," Skipper apologized again, completely and utterly sincere about it. "Here, why don't I--?"

"No!" the ferret snarled, trying to stuff the rest of his now dirt-covered traveling food and clothes back into his sack.

"Now, please, I am sorry, here, let me help you," said Skipper as he tried to help push the stuff back into the pack. Unfortunately, Skipper's thrust was too strong, and the sack broke.

"Gah!" said the ferret as his things went spewing back out onto the dirt again.

"Oh dear!" cried Skipper, blushing furiously. "Listen, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to--" Skipper said as both he and the ferret began to stand up, but the ferret tripped over his tangled cloak and ended up in Skipper's arms.

Skipper, who was so used to females throwing themselves into his arms, found himself laughing and saying from force of old habit, "Oh please, madam," before realizing that the ferret was undoubtedly a male.

"Please madam?!" cried the ferret, outraged, as he pushed himself away from the otter.

"Eh, sorry, force of habit," Skipper explained, forcing a grin. "Listen though, I am terribly sorry. Are you sure you don't need help with your cloak? Here, I think I can--"

Skipper reached out and tried to untangle the garment, and before the ferret could pull away, the clasp broke in Skipper's grip and the cloak slipped from the ferret's skinny shoulders.

This time the ferret could only roll his eyes and lean his head to the side as Skipper once again made his sincere and embarrassed apologies and try to pick up the cloak.

"Oh, sir, I really am sorry, I'm usually not this clumsy," Skipper said as he gave the cloak a yank.

Unfortunately, one of the ferret's footpaws had been standing on the cloak, so when Skipper yanked up the garment, the young ferret fell to the earth again.

"Oh! Oh, my giddy aunt!" cried Skipper. He didn't remember ever being so accident prone.

Again he assisted in helping the skinny ferret up, and again the ferret pushed himself away from the otter.

Skipper, who seemed to be abundant with apologies, finally said, "Listen, sir, I've really got to go--"

"Then go," the young ferret growled through clenched teeth.

Skipper, completely abashed, began to turn away, but then stopped, and turned back.

"Wait a minute, here," he said, pulling something from his belt and handing it to the young ferret.

The ferret inspected it to find it looked like some kind of a rock shaped like a dock leaf. A small hole was near the top of it, and a string was slung through it.

"Just show that to any otter or woodlander and they'll give you help. Just tell them that Skipper gave it to you, okay?"

"Aye," the young ferret growled, the smallest trace of reluctant gratitude in his voice.

Skipper gave a small bow and said, "Good day, sir," and turned away--

RRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

Skipper froze. He looked down. His tunic was still in one piece, but something was caught on his belt. . . .

Slowly, the otter looked over his shoulder at the young ferret.

The ferret had his arms over his head, about to put the necklace on, his brown eyes wide open.

The young ferret's tunic had somehow gotten caught on Skipper's belt, and now it was torn in half all the way down to his waistsash.

Their eyes met.

"Oh, I am so sorry," Skipper whispered, trying to pull the tunic shred off of his belt, but--

Rip!

The tunic was ripped even further down.

The ferret stiffened, and continued to stare at the otter with blazing eyes.

"Oh, uh, heh, I uh," said Skipper as he again tried to disentangle the tunic. "Here, why don't I--?"

Rip!

"Eh, or how about--?"

RIP! Flop!

The tunic was torn in two, and both pieces, along with the waistsash, draped themselves about the young ferret's foot paws.

Skipper froze. The ferret stiffened.

"Ah heh," said the otter. He tried putting the tunic shreds back on the ferret, but they wouldn't stay on.

The young ferret continued to stare at Skipper with blazing brown eyes that seemed to look right through the otter. Finally Skipper couldn't take it any longer.

"Ah heh," he said again. "G-good-bye!"

And with that, the otter chieftain turned and ran away, leaving behind the young ferret with his arms still raised, his torn haversack, traveling food, extra clothes, tangled cloak, ripped tunic and waistsash draped around his footpaws on the dirt.