In The Dragon's Den

An old English essay of mine from two years ago.
A short story about the rescue of a couple of moles. From the point of view of a squirrel. I don't know what to right here now, so blah bleh blah.

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1. In the Dragon's Den

Ok, this is it. We can’t turn back. They probably have our scent by now, considering the fact that we’ve been standing outside the woods for about ten minutes. Both of us are scared. Terrified actually. It’s going to get dark soon, and when it does we aren’t going to have much luck in these woods.

“Well my floppy-eared friend, we best get goin’ now. Can’t stand ‘ere forever, eh?” I sigh.

“Yore right Blessira. We ain’t gonna get much done just standin’ ‘ere.” Sondast replies. I reach over and hold his paw for reassurance. He holds mine back. We look at each other Sondast looks terrified and I’m pretty sure I have the same look on my face, then looking into the woods, we both step into the trees at the same time so one of us won’t chicken out.

 Suddenly it feels a lot colder, even though we stepped into the cover of the trees. Behind us is open land all the way to the sea, anyone can be seen for miles. It would have been difficult to ambush Sondast and me, or even attack us. One glimpse of those vile shrews and we would run for our lives. Others have tried to get through this particular wood and most have failed, for the shrews have traps and tricks all over their part of the wood.

 The leaves rustle around above us, telling us that they don’t use the element of surprise. Which shows us that they’re not the most intelligent of beasts, surprise is everything in the woods.

“Sondast,” I say as I tug on his paw “I think it’s best if we move further in t’ the woods. We won’t get the job done from ‘ere. Come on.”

“Ok, ok. I’m comin’. Don’t get yore knickers in a twist Blessira.” Trying not to think about the shrews watching our every move from the treetops, Sondast and I travel deeper into the unknown territory.

 The sunlight disappears as the wood gets thicker. What’s left of the sky is an orangey colour. That’s when I notice there’s more of echo and sounds become clearer. I look at my best friend to see if he has noticed it to. The small mountain hare has a familiar twinkle in his eyes. My favourite twinkle.

“I know that look.” I smile. Sondast may know something that could help us. “What is it?”

 “Yore never gonna guess whaaaaaaa…” His sentence is cut off by the screaming as he flies off the ground. He goes so high that I can no longer see him.

“Sondast!” I gasp. “Sondast? Wh-who a-are you?” A fairly large shrew had come out of the trees and was now three inches from my face.

“State your purpose here. This is not your territory.” His voice is deep and awfully loud.

“I asked first!” I yell.

“Ah, but you see, young squirrel, you already know who I am,” he says staring into my eyes.

“But…”

“No ‘buts’ miss I’ve told you something now, ANSWER MY QUESTION!” he snarls. I give up. I can’t think of who he is. I’ve never seen a large, muscular, mean shrew in my life. Ever.

“I’m Blessira and I’ve come t’retrieve the lost mole babies. There are three of them if I remember correctly.” I try to sound as confident as possible but I’m pretty sure he can hear fear in my voice.

“Well Blessira, I presume you thought you could just come and ask for the moles back and we would just give them to you then you would be on your way, yes?” Wow, these shrews aren’t as dumb as they seem. I’ll have to give them credit for that.

“Well yes, actually,” I know it’s the wrong answer but it’s all I got. “Let m’ friend go please an’ give us the mole babies so we can be on our way. Then  we can forget this whole thing ‘appened.” But he simply laughs. I can hear Sondast in the treetops above and it seems he isn’t having much luck at getting free.

 I clasp my paws together and think. “How ‘bout I make you a deal?”

He hangs on to every word and the corners of his mouth turn up. “Go on.”

“Well, if I can free my friend, you give me the mole babies and we can just walk out of here. Including my friend.”

“We have a deal. I must warn you though, I don’t play fair. You can start at dawn.”

“I might not play fair either,” I mutter to myself.
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