The moon hung low in the sky, casting a gentle glow on the grounds of Redwall abbey. The dew on the grass, just beginning to form, sparkled lethargically, as if the deep, warm night was making even the light drowsy. Indeed, most beasts had succumbed to that drowsiness long before then, having gone to bed many hours ago. There were a few that were still awake though. One in particular standing at the shores of the large, placid pond.
Jen stared into the glassy waters, standing at the very edge of the pond, where the sand met the water. He was silent and still, and might well have been mistaken for a bush or a tree in the dim light, had anybeast been there to see him. In truth, even if there had been anybeast there, they would have been seeing something completely different from what Jen was seeing.
The moonlight reflected off the surface of the pond.
Fire. Fire raging as the island burned, mirrored in the choppy waters of the bay. The sounds of screaming and laughter rolled on the wind, accompanied by smoke and the smell of burning wood.
"Strange to see you here."
Jen glanced away from the water, looking at the empty air beside him.
The captain leaned his back against the mast, lighting a pipe as he watched the shore burn, "What kind of samurai runs away from a fight?"
What kind of samurai runs?
Jen watched the air, then looked back at the water. He once again looked like an inanimate object, standing watch by the shore. A breeze picked up and the raccoon shivered slightly. He pulled his cloak around him and turned around.
He started to walk toward the doors of the Great Hall.
Jen walked through the ruins of the mountain village. Once comforting homes had been reduced to nothing but charred beams and splintered wood. Bodies lay everywhere, dropped wherever the bandits had killed them. A thin layer of ash coated everything. A trail of ashen pawprints stretched behind him as he walked, eyes never able to escape the sight.
The dew felt cool on his footpaws as he crossed the grass. He placed a paw on the doors and pushed them open. They swung inward with an echoing boom as the line of slaves was led into the dark, putrid interior of the prison. A massive lizard, the size of a badger lord, cracked his whip and shouted, "This is your new home worms. This is what you get, because this is what you deserve!"
He wandered along the hallway, aimless, tired. Fires blazed in windows. Swords stuck through doors. Blood splattered the walls. Things he had done and things he had allowed happened again and again all around him.
Jen looked up from the floor to see a mouse holding a candle and looking at him. Recognition lit up the brother's face, "I recognize you. You were working in the gardens all day yesterday. And still up at this hour? My my my. Don't you think you deserve some rest"
Jen stared at the mouse as a corsair's blade split his skull.
OOC: I hope this fits the "No beast may die" rule, and if it doesn't I liked writing this anyway. Wanted to get into some of Jen's psychology.