(I'm sorry for deleting the old one, Sled made repair to it impossible, and so we start anew…)
Castle Marl was being attacked! Flametail the albino fox was aptly named for her tail was red as flame, but the rest of her completely white. She rushed down to a forgotten cellar room, where a small ashen fox was waiting. An underground stream running out from the broken floor, the water had worn away here for countless generations, leaving a small, yet concealed cave. "Come, now, little one." she beckoned to the small fox, and got into a small boat. The small one got into the boat. Flametail had taken several things from the castle for them to start afresh somewhere far away. Two swords, one with a well-crafted black hilt, one a common sword. Two cloaks, one a drab brown, another black mingled with gold, five daggers, all crafted finely and perfectly balanced. She had learned quite a bit in the art of forging weapons, so she had confidence in her choices. The small one was wearing a black garb, an amulet with an amethyst in it, and a snakeskin belt. They pushed off, and seemed to successfully get off unnoticed, exept from the pikes, who swam around the boat, hoping that their disturbance in the water would make one of the foxes fall in. They had already had a small taste of Marlfox and wouldn't complain if they had more. Yes, the little fox was a Marlfox, yet forgotten by his older brothers and sisters, so Flametail had taken him in unnoticed. Their journey was successful, they reached the shore unharmed. They walked into the woods aways and made camp.
Miles Downtree was a squirrel, normal brown fur took well with his surroundings, not disappointing the tradition of squirrels being the best in the woods. He was an archer. Though not professional, he was familiar with the art and so adopted it as his weapon of choice and carried it wherever he went and, apart from a dagger, was his only weapon. His brown tunic was also brown, with patches of green here and there. He spotted the duo of foxes and was immediately alert, "What would vermin be doing going into Mossflower?" he asked himself. The day was slipping away; Miles decided to follow the foxes to make sure no trouble was near..