Prone To Wander (excerpt)

When his family is taken captive "Ruben" sets out to find and rescue them. (Rough draft)

**This excerpt is UNEDITED. If you do not like to read rough drafts, please move on. I enjoy getting feedback early, especially with a book that I'm so unsure of. ALL feedback is welcome. Feedback on voice, characters, story, and plot are appreciated.
Mostly I just want to know... Would you keep reading if there was more?**

The forest was growing dark, and Ruben began to feel uneasy in his heavily shadowed surroundings. He'd never ventured through the forest at night, no squirrel in his colony would have dared such a feat, it was far too dangerous. Occasionally hunting parties would be out all night, not returning until morning. But they had the good sense to take refuge as soon as the shadows were stretched to the east. Ruben had been blinded by desperation, and didn't think of finding a safe place to rest, until it was too dark to see clearly.

“Idiot,” the squirrel grumbled, “I'm not going to be much help to my family if I get myself eaten.”

He sidled up to a large oak tree and looked up the wide trunk. Yes, this looked like a good tree for climbing, and perhaps it had a hole in it somewhere up higher... but what if some other creature was already in it's branches? The squirrel stepped back and sighed. Should he try to refuge now, or was it better just to keep on the move?

His ears perked, and he turned quickly to his right, reaching for his dagger as he swung about. He looked around him, but a squirrel's eyes aren't made for seeing in the dark. His gaze shifted to his weapon, he'd been so proud of it once, now it looked feeble. It was a single wolf's claw, packed with clay and bound tightly to a wooden handle with strips of hide. He'd made the thing for fun, he never imaged actually needing a weapon.

Ruben's mind came back to the moment, he could hear some creature, larger than himself, ambling his way. It sounded absolutely careless, branches and dry leaves rustled and crackled underfoot, and it sounded as if it was talking. Were there several creatures perhaps? No. He only heard four paws. Was it talking to itself? It kept ambling on, until it was close enough for Ruben to clearly make out the voice.

“Here little squirrel,” it was calling, “Come on now. What are you doing on the ground, at night? Are you injured?”

The words almost sounded kind, but they were coming from a very large raccoon. The masked face was finally visible, and the eyes shimmered in the moonlight. This was a creature who could see perfectly in the dark, and his sights were set on the little squirrel. Ruben was easy prey, and they both knew it.

The raccoon stopped no more than a foot from his quarry and, standing on his hind paws, looked down on Ruben. He was three or four times the squirrel's height.

“Lost, are you?” he asked.

Ruben didn't know how to respond, the creature sounded perfectly casual, as if he'd bumped into an old friend. But raccoons are sly, he was probably trying to get the squirrel to drop his guard. After all, the less effort put into a kill, the better.

“I'm not lost,” Ruben pushed out the words at last. “Now leave me alone, and don't try me.”

The raccoon went wide-eyed, but bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing. “I wouldn't think of it,” he said, the words coming out a little high-pitched. He cleared his throat, and sat down on his haunches. “Off on a mission, are we?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ruben said, “And I won't let some old bandit stop me.”

The raccoon's ears pushed forward, and the grin left his face. “Slinging insults won't help you,” he growled. “Come on then, don't be bitter... everyone’s gotta eat, don't they?”

Ruben dodged to the right as one of the huge paws reached out for him. The paw missed, but Ruben swung 'round and drove his wolf-claw dagger into it. The raccoon gave a wordless anger growl, pulling his paw back and looking at the tiny wound. Narrowed eyes turned to the squirrel and with no warning he bounded on top of his prey.

Ruben avoided his attacker's paws and jaws, crawling down and stabbing at his stomach. Then crawling 'round to his back and up, he stabbed at one of the great shoulders. The raccoon chattered and growled again. Ruben made a daring dash for the head, biting down hard on one of the soft ears. The raccoon gave a shrill cry and shook wildly. Ruben didn't have a firm grasp, he was knocked loose and tumbled forward... falling directly into the open fore paws of the raccoon. One paw wrapped around Ruben's waist, with his fore paws pinned to his side in the mighty grip.

The raccoon's free paw reached up and rubbed his bleeding ear. “Quite the little fighter, aren't you?” he grumbled. “No matter, can't blame you for trying.”

Ruben struggled with all the might he could muster, as the predator's open jaws drew closer. He kicked with his hind paws, trying desperately to scratch his captor. He tried bending his neck forward to bite, it was no use, he couldn't reach no matter which way he twisted and turned. He was close enough to feel the hot, heavy breath when he finally screamed out, “No, you can't kill me!”

The jaws closed, Ruben felt himself lowered slightly. “Give me one good reason...”

Ruben cut the raccoon short, “I'll give you five! The five members of my family that were taken, stolen from their home, stolen from me. Please, please, they might still be alive. I have to find them, I have to rescue them!”

The raccoon was silent. He settled on his haunches again, his eyes fixed on the trembling form held in his paw. His shoulders sunk, his ears pinned back, and he grimaced. “Rescue mission, is it?” he grumbled, “What kidnapped your family? If it's anything bigger than a field mouse, I'd say this mission of yours is doomed to failure.”

“They were ermines,” Ruben said, his ears going limp under the weight of guilt, “And I should've stopped them.”

There was more silence, Ruben's eyes turned down to the ground, nearly three feet below him. “Maybe you should eat me,” he said, “You're right, after all, I won't be able to help them. Go on then, get it over with. Just kill me quickly.”

“I had no idea squirrels were so dramatic,” the raccoon growled.

The big paw opened slightly, and Ruben felt himself slipping. He braced, and then scrambled up, perching on the paw that had held him. He looked at the raccoon, wide eyed in amazement. Was he seriously free to go, or was this a very mean spirited joke?

“Go on then, get out of here,” the raccoon insisted, giving his paw a shake.

Ruben held to his perch, “Wait,” he called out, and the shaking stopped. “Could I... Could I ask you for a small favor, before I go?”

“You're mad!” was his only reply.

“Probably,” Ruben agreed, “But I don't exactly have anyone else to ask. I just need to know which of the trees around here would be safe to stay in for the night. Please, can't you just answer that one question?”

The raccoon's free paw, his left paw, stretched toward the squirrel and Ruben feared he'd pressed his luck. He resolved not to run however, vowing inside to see this poor decision through to it's end. The big black and silver paw clamped onto Ruben's left paw and foreleg, giving it a surprisingly gentle shake. It was a strong, tight grip, but there was no hostility in it now.

“My name is Quinn,” the raccoon said, returning to the casual voice he'd began with, “And what would your name be?”

“Ruben,” the squirrel replied, pulling his paw free.

“Well, Ruben, you've got a lot of courage for someone so small... what, do you keep it all stored in that bushy tail of yours?”

“Thank you, but I think it's more desperation than courage,” Ruben replied. “Quinn, it's... well, it's nice to meet you, oddly enough. I don't suppose you can answer my question?”

“I'll do better than that, I'll...” but Quinn stopped short, turning his head and sniffing the cool night air.

To Ruben's surprise and horror, Quinn's jaws came suddenly down on him. Sharp white teeth gripped the squirrel, one row across his chest, the other across his waist. With his fore paws free this time, Ruben pushed hard against the muzzle of the raccoon. He thought of biting it, but then... what if it bit down? He could see one of the wide, nocturnal eyes scanning the ground for something. Quinn stooped, seemed to pocket something, and sauntered off on all fours.

Ruben continued to strain against the jaws for some time, but he was getting too tired to fight back. So, he watched the ever darkening forest rush by, upside down, and wondered what had happened. Quinn had seemed friendly for a moment, was it all a ploy? He pushed against the muzzle with weak and tired paws, but still he was held tight. Yet not so tight, he realized, that any damage was done. Ruben's hope came flickering back to life at that realization.

“Quinn, where are you taking me?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly, “You did say that you weren't going to eat me. Didn't you?”

A raspy growl came from Quinn's open throat and Ruben shuddered, and resumed his silence. Then the raccoon made a great leap, landing a good seven feet up the trunk of a wide maple tree. He climbed up high into the branches, until he came at last to a ramshackle wooden house, which was a little taller than the raccoon when standing on his hind paws. The door could be plainly seen, as it was made of aspen branches and the white bark seemed to shine in the moonlight. When the door was pushed open, Ruben was a bit surprised to see a small fire flickering in a very wide fireplace. He thought it looked very much like the fireplace he'd enjoyed in the home he grew up in, where his father would roast plump young birds, or fry eggs. It was a welcoming sight, for a moment. The coziness of the tree house vanished however, with the yawning of two raccoon kits. So, that was why Quinn decided not to eat him on the forest floor, he had young ones to feed!