Lord of the Squirrels: Part 7

They fought hard, the Hastings clan. The clash of steel on fur could be heard for miles around as the battle surged amongst the boughs of the arbor kingdom.

Meanwhile, on the ground below, the multitudes of Malverne-ites gathered, huddled in their houses—icked out by the fuzz and funk, gore and gunk, that poured down from the trees—and spoke warily of the great conflict outside their windows in hushed tones (as if uttering the words above a whisper would invite this squirrel mêlée into their own homes).

Surrounded by younglings, the "old ones"—their withered hair as ashen as the rodent warriors outside their doors—spoke openly of their own experiences in the first War of the Squirrels. Of how many were lost.... The toll it took. But not one veteran could recall having ever heard such clang and clamour, nor chitter and chatter, before this day. Nor had they ever witnessed carnage such as this. For as far back as they could remember, the sky above had never rained the its and bits

of squirrels.