Chapter One
Santier woke up in the warm summer air. He glanced up at his fellow stooges. There were rustling among his tribe, so he went out to see the cook. His camp was small, for there were a small number of mice in the Golden Age. There were 7 tents in a circle facing the shaman's tent. He went inside the green tent which was the cook's.
"Morning Dante!" he greeted.
"Ah, hello Santier. Did you hear? Hane has passed away." she sadly said.
"That means Tarey will be the new shaman?" he asked.
"Yes, my boy, your learning quickly." she said as she patted the small mouse's head.
Santier smiled. Dante was his favorite mouse. The passing of Hane was unfortunate, but being a young mouse, it didn't affect him very much.
"Would you like some leftover cheese grass soup?" she asked.
Santier nodded as she stuffed a spoonful of cheese grass soup in his mouth. It was sweet and bitter at the same time. The cheese was sweet while the grass countered it with small bits of bitterness. He took the spoon out of his mouth and asked for a small bowl of it. Dante kindly gave him a bowl as the other mice awoke. Santier went under a tree and started slurping the hot soup.
The other mice followed and soon the trees were covered with slurping mice. Santier picked up his ear. He heard something romping to the camp. Everyone wolfed down the soup and prepared for an attack. The tents were taken down and the bowls were packed away. The soldiers of the tribe stood bravely in front as the attackers approached the tribe. Santier hid up a small tree in fear as a gray and white mouse came with two brown mice.
The whole tribe relaxed when they saw the recruiter. Santier climbed down the tree, still pumping and shaking from what could have been a devastating day.
Sione looked at the apprehensive tribe and said, "What happened?"
The tiger mouse simply replied, "Its nothing. We just thought you were an attacker, that's all."
Sione laughed and the two brown mice nervously stared. Santier spotted one of them and waved a friendly hello to the smaller one. The smaller mouse hid behind the taller one.
"This taller one is named Fane," she pointed to the mouse in front, "and this is Fridle."
They both awkwardly said hi to the rest of the tribe. There were murmurs throughout the tribe when they spoke. Santier felt the tribe's unease. The two mice were dirt brown, unlike the rest of us who were gray, white, dark brown, tan, or/and orange. Dirt brown mice were a sign of luck and peace.
"Fane and Fridle, you'll be stooges because your not old enough to be out in the world. Santier, help these two." Kant ordered. "The rest of us better pack up, we need to gather cheese."
Santier nodded. and packed up while instructing the two small mice.
"Who's the tribe shaman?" Fane demanded.
"Er... Tarey." Santier uncomfortably said. "Uh, anyway the stooges tent is gray. We'll sleep in it at night time."
"I know that, I'm not a noob." Fane annoyingly told him. "I want to know who is the treasurer, the cook, those guys who are the great and powerful leaders of the rest of their kind? Not what color tents are."
Santier looked at the mouse staring at him. Brown mice meaning peace and luck? Sure, right.
"Dante is the cook, Kant was that tiger mouse you saw at the head of the soldiers, Wentre is the huntress, Ranfe is the shaman's apprentice, Pape is the treasurer, and the one who brought you here is Sione," he told him.
"How many members in this tribe?" interrogated the young mouse.
"16 mice, including you guys," the mouse heaved as he folded the tent and packed his things.
"I'm a girl," Fridle squeaked.
Santier sighed. He couldn't wait to get higher in the tribe. The higher mice came to the stooges, so they could haul their things onto new grounds. Santier carried more tent, and food then any other mice just because he was close to getting higher. Santier offered to carry Fane's and Fridle's carriage hen he saw them getting squashed by the immense weight. Golden Age started out of the forest and onto the mountain.

Chapter Two
The day was scorching. Santier and all the other mice's sweat was so much that it formed a river that marked their steps. The tribe was exhausted, so Tarey halted their progress across the mountain. The tribe leaned against the looming mountain. The sun cooked their side. Suddenly there was a clamorous clashing coming from the top of the mountain. Four great boulders blocked the sun and tumbled at the weary mice. Santier's eyes widened as he watched Tarey doing nothing.
"Tarey! Do something!" Kant, the head solider barked to Tarey.
Santier watched as Tarey summoned the shaman powers to protect their tribe. Nothing was happening. Santier watched as Tarey summoned up two glowing tears. The tribe started panicking. Their shaman was pathetic, not even able to protect the lives of Santier's tribe.
"I-I'm sorry," Tarey sobbed.
"Move over Tarey!" Ranfe screeched to Tarey. "I can handle this."
Ranfe narrowed his eyes. Santier watched as he summoned a giant ghost box. He summoned with such grace! Santier and the rest of the tribe marveled at Ranfe's magnificence. Ranfe summoned up more boxes and a few balloons. The rock smashed and tumbled over Santier's head.
Santier cheered for Ranfe. The tribe loved Ranfe.
"Stop cheering you squirmy little mice," he smiled as they hugged him and thanked him. "We need to gather food."
The tribe stopped. Santier, along with the rest, spread out to find cheese and other kinds of food. Santier told Fane and Fridle to look on their own but not too far from the tribe. They nodded and scurried away. Santier headed up the mountain to a small crack in the earth he had seen when they headed up.
He found the crack filled with cheese. He began picking out the cheese when suddenly the cheese tugged back. Santier ripped out the cheese from it's spot. He was surprised to see a black paw gripped tightly on it. Santier looked over the cheese to see the black paw's owner. It was a blue and orange eyed mouse who was about the size of Fane. The mouse eyed Santier. They stared at each other for half a second, brown eye to glowing emerald eye. The black and white mouse squealed and ran away. Santier also squeaked and jumped away when he saw this mysterious mouse.
Santier thought that the mouse was part of another tribe, but he didn't know for sure. The multicolored mouse hurried back home with the speck of yellow goodness. The other gatherers had already returned, so food was almost ready to eat. Santier went into the cooking tent to give Dante his cheese.
"Hello there Santier," Dante acknowledged.
"Hi Dante, what are you making today?" Santier wondered.
"A blueberry cheese soup for the treasurer and cheese for the others. Unfortunately the tribe didn't bring back much food." Dante sighed. "How's Fane?"
Fane. Santier forgot about him. He waved good-bye to Dante and rushed to find Fane and Fridle. They were sitting on the cold mountain apparently engaged in a conversation. Santier sat down beside them. Fane looked up and greeted him.
"Do you like this tribe so far?" Santier asked.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" Fane spoke.
There was more silence after that. It was broken once Dante finished their lunches. The three went to the white and brown mouse for food. Santier watched as Dante scooped a piping bowl of blueberry cheese stew into Pape's bowl. The whole tribe wanted something as sweet as blueberries.
Noon was silent and well guarded by Ranfe. The only sounds were gurgles and the soft crying of Tarey. Everyone wanted more food but that wasn't possible. Santier knew that this mountain had just been stripped of energy.
A loud yell penetrated the peace. Pape yowled and screamed. He stumbled over everything and almost squished little Fridle.
Santier ran over to him and quickly asked, "What's wrong?"
"My stomach, it seems to hurt really badly," the old mouse muttered.
The tribe walked away from the pained treasurer. Santier knew that was a small problem to start a big commotion. Santier felt a hard push as a gray mouse pushed herself to Pape. Tarey stopped crying and started to whisper to Pape. Santier started walking away to give them some room, but Tarey stopped him.
"I need you and Fane to go up on the top of the mountain. I saw some herbs there. Go get them so Pape can feel better," she commanded.
Santier nodded and went to find Fane. He was disappointed to go with Fane for he loathed Fane and his stuck-up attitude.
"Come Fane, we're going to search for herbs," Santier told him.
"But I don't want to, why do we have to go anyway?" retorted Fane.
Santier rolled his eyes and said, "Because Pape is sick and he needs herbs to get better."
Fane grumbled but said no more. Santier was glad this conversation ended as he dragged
the annoyed mouse up the mountain.

Chapter Three
Santier climbed the mountain with ease while Fane was still trying to get off the ground they started on. He grumbled and picked up Fane. With Fane on his back, it wasn't a breeze.
"Your sweaty," Fane commented.
"Well, your on my back and it's hot," said Santier.
The two mice made it up the mountain and almost to the top when something caught their attention. There was a loud screech in the air and Santier set the little mouse down.
"What was that?" asked Fane.
"Owl," responded Santier.
"But it's day! Are you lying to me?" demanded Fane.
"I guess this owl is hungry then, watch out he's spotted us!" shouted Santier.
Santier's eyes widened as the owl licked it's beak and prepared to swoop down on them. Fane ran behind Santier as the owl landed at the top of the mountain. Santier eyed the owl closely as it stretched it's wings and got ready to descend on them. Santier looked to make sure Fane was still alright as the owl flew down from the sky. Santier knew it was run or fight.
He knew Fane was in no mood for running. He had to take the owl on. Santier narrowed his eyes as the owl got closer every second. He saw the flash of the talons as he jumped out of harm's way. He looked behind him and spotted Fane hiding in a tiny crack. The owl had crashed into the mountain. Observing the owl made Santier feel more unease. The owl suddenly stirred.
Santier pounced on the owl and threw his life at sake. The giant beast whirled and rolled in an effort to shake the mouse off. Santier gripped tightly to the owl's feathers. The bird stood up and feathers flew everywhere. He heard the ear piercing screech as the owl banged itself on the mountain. The mouse loosened his grip as he was banged onto the mountain four times.
The deadly predator felt it and shook Santier off. He landed like a rock but quickly got up. He needed to protect Fane and the rest of his tribe. Santier saw the owl had many cuts and bruises from it hitting the mountain. Santier closed his eyes and dived blindly onto the owl. He opened his mouth and bit fiercly into the owl's flesh. His grip tightened as he tasted warm blood. The owl screeched as he bit several more times into it.
Finally, the owl dropped dead as Santier bit it the fifteenth time. He let go off the owl and flung it down the mountain. He wiped his mouth and face with his paw to get rid of the nauseating stench surrounding his nostrils. The bloody mouse looked around for Fane.
"Your amazing!" a small, astonished voice said.
Santier whipped around and saw Fane staring at him with keen interest. Santier smiled as he rubbed his aching arm.
"Oh and I found these," Fane said, holding out a palm full of juicy herbs.
Smiling, the two walked back to the tribe. The sun was setting and the tribe was suffering. Santier knew something was wrong.

Chapter 4
"You," Ranfe came charging at him in rage, "you, you knew there was another tribe on this mountain didn't you!"
"I-uh" Santier fumbled with his words.
He didn't know if that black and white mouse had a tribe.
"Well? Answer me!" Ranfe loudly demanded.
"Uh... yes," he muttered with shame.
"Ranfe, please stop! He doesn't deserve punishment, it was my fault, I busied him with a herb job, he probably was going to tell but he was busy with my job for him, I'm sorry Ranfe," Tarey told him.
"Fine, seeing as your the head shaman," he sighed."But I'm watching you, Santier."
Santier nodded a "I'll do better, I promise" nod to Ranfe and gave Tarey the herbs. The two shamans then proceeded to tell the tribe of a decision to move down. Santier and Fane went over to Fridle to ask what had happened.
"Well... a tribe attacked," she said quietly. "and they stole our food."
The two didn't bother to ask for details for it seemed unnecessary. No one was hurt and night drifted in as the tribe headed down the dangerous mountain. It was dusk and the tribe was desperately searching for food. All they had found was raspberries and blue berries.
"We can't eat this!" Pape moaned. "Every food is poisonous for some reason except cheese!"
Santier walked over to the spotted mouse.
"We don't know that for sure, anything could've caused your stomach ache," Santier told him.
Santier suddenly felt cold as if someone was standing behind him, blocking the warming sun. He turned around to see Ranfe glaring at him.
"So why don't you taste the raspberries and young Fane taste the blueberries?" he questioned.
"Fane? If they are poisonous, he shouldn't eat any. He's too small," Santier protested.
"Fine then, just you. Dante! Bring us some of the fresh blueberries and raspberries Wentre brought!" Ranfe called to her.
Dante came over with a handful of berries. Ranfe looked at Santier who sighed and ate the raspberries. They didn't taste strange, they tasted like how a berry would taste. Santier hoped that Pape's stomach pains weren't because of blueberries.
"It looks like not all of the-" Santier suddenly puked up the red juices from the berries.
There were sharp pangs all over his stomach as he spat out all the raspberries. Santier instantly felt dizzy and he sat down quickly. His head was spinning and his stomach felt like it was being digested. Everything was spinning and Santier lost consciousness.

Chapter 5
Everything was black and it felt horrible. Santier opened his eyes only to find light and a sharp pang to his eyes.
"Your awake," a voice said to him.
Everything was still groggy but the pains from last night were gone. Santier looked up to see Tarey beside him and the moon glowing brightly in the sky. He was still tired and Tarey seemed to have been feeding him herbs all night.
"You should go back to sleep," she told him.
Santier nodded off to sleep. He had a rough sleep, there were screaming all over his dreams and it seemed as if everything was in a panic. He kept seeing Ranfe in his dreams yelling at him and deliberately sabotaging the tribe. The tribe was in a mess and Santier had tried to help to organize again, but Ranfe oh evil Ranfe, had caused them to go in irreversible chaos...
Santier woke up with a bang as he heard screams of his tribe mates. He knew something was wrong and hurried out of the tent. The first mouse he saw was a shaman from another tribe.
The shaman that had glowing red markings called to the tribe, "If you ever want to see your tribe mates again, bring 100 pounds of cheese to Cold Fire by next week, if you don't, say good-bye to your friends."
The black and white mouse cackled and hurried off into the night before Ranfe had cannoned her.
Ranfe cursed at the sky a lot and then went over to the tents where the tribe was watching the end of the battle. The tribe had murmurs of unease and question as they saw Ranfe go into his tent without saying a word. Santier looked around the tribe to see who was taken. Conf, the second in charge of the soliders, was still here but Kant wasn't, but all of the other soliders were gone. Gandi, the other stooge hadn't gone missing. Luckily Santier found Fane under a tree crying. As Santier looked more and more, he realized that Fridle was gone. Santier's favorite mouse was gone as well with Pape.
Santier took a quick glance over the edge of the mountain to see if there were any hidden Cold Fire members. He picked up a sound of agony at the bottom of the mountain. Santier motioned to his tribe mates to come over and check out what it was. There at the bottom was a mouse soaked with blood and smashed by a dark cannon.
Santier's eyes widened as he saw the familiar grey and white fur pattern underneath all the blood. The tribe slowly rolled the cannon off her body, careful not to shorten her existence. Tarey looked completely flat. Her shaman markings were virtually gone but you could just see a faint glow of gold. Her eyes still had a pinch of life in them as she gazed at the tribe.
"G-g-gandi..." she muttered. "y-you will le- ehd, the t-tribe as as a sh-shaman."
Tarey coughed out blood, met Santier's eyes with her blue eyes, and then proceeded to painfully speak,"Santier, you, you wi-"
Her shaman markings fainted away and her sparkling eyes stopped showing life.

Chapter 6
Santier and the rest of the tribe stood in shock for a whole second. Santier took a peek at Gandi as he uncomfortably looked at his feet as if they had started talking. He decided to do the same. Why would Tarey say something about him? A mouse who can barely fend off an owl? Santier shook his head a few times. No... she probably didn't say anything about him... she probably mixed up his name with someone better then he is.
If she had said his name, what will he do? Is it his destiny to fail? Or is it to save the tribe. He swallowed uncomfortably as Ranfe had came over to dispose of Tarey's body. They walked back to the camp and the tribe asked him dozens of questions that Santier had no idea how to answer, or the answers to the questions.
It was still night as he approached the stooges tent. As he was about to open and go in, there was a small tap on his shoulder. Santier turned around to find the shaman apprentice standing before him.
"Hey," Gandi muttered.
"Hey," Santier said quietly.
While not looking at Santier directly, Gandi asked, "So, do you know what Tarey meant?"
"You become shaman and I will do something," Santier murmured. "Well, good luck with that."
They nodded to each other as the conversation ended. Ranfe had came over to Gandi and was very impatient about the tribe not sleeping to rest up their energy.
~*~
*~*
Morning came like a cat, silent and unforeseen. Santier woke up in the misty morning wishing to see Dante again. He then realized that Cold Fire had stolen their food so the tribe starved. Ranfe had told the tribe to head around the mountain this time, in an effort to find the cheese they needed. Fane silently sobbed by Santier. Santier noticed that the fog had gotten thicker and to his disgust, Ranfe had gotten meaner. Ranfe hadn't been helping the tribe at all.
Santier observed Ranfe the whole morning, and from his observations, all Ranfe had done was boss everyone around like a horrid king. Besides that, Fane's crying had gotten louder and it was getting harder and harder to see in front of his face. Santier scowled at the world. He felt very angry at the ignorance of the tribe, to not see the problem Ranfe is. Fane's constant heat was getting to his nerves. Santier had stopped gathering cheese for the rest of the morning to pound on the ground to try to get his anger out.
Suddenly Fane started to grab at Santier. He ignored it and continued to frustrate at the world. Fane grabbed and pulled Santier harder. Santier tried his best to not yell at the small mouse. Once he had ignored Fane for the second time, Fane bit him very hard on the leg.
"OWWW! WHY DID YOU DO THAT FOR YOU STINKING, GOOD FOR NOTHING MOU-" he raged until Fane started to wipe his eyes. "Sorry Fane, it's just, I'm just really frustrated right now."
"I don't care for why you yelled at me, it was the fog, it got into my eyes. But look! The tribe is gone!" Fane told him rapidly.
Santier whipped around from the mossy rock he had been gathering cheese from. Fane wasn't lying, all Santier could see were blurred trees and white, dangerous fog.


Chapter 7
"Crap. Ohhhh crap," Santier told himself.
"What will we do now?" Fane asked him.
Santier remained silent to ask himself the same question. He tried to remember where the tribe had gone off to, but he couldn't. He looked around to see where they were, but of course, he only saw deadly mist. At least he had some food, Santier thought to himself as he stared at the handful of cheese.
He looked around for the only mouse around him. Fane was peering at something in the rocks of the mountain. Santier walked over to find out what he was looking at. Fane's eyes were fixed on a deep crimson strawberry. Santier heard a loud growl of hunger as Fane plucked the strawberry from the mountain and proceeded to eat it. The older mouse yelled out a no, but it was too late. Fane had gobbled up a deadly fruit.
"Why'd you yell no?" Fane asked, his mouth full of red juice.
"It's just all food except cheese is poisonous to eat," he told Fane.
Fane eyed him curiously and then said, "Really, well I think it's a big lie. That strawberry tasted only of goodness."
Santier looked at Fane for a minute to see if he would cringe and finally loose consciousness like he had with the raspberries.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Fane questioned.
"Nothing," Santier softly said. "Lets go around the mountain, like the tribe wanted,"
The calico mouse took Fane's hand and slowly walked around what they thought was a mountain. Suddenly Santier's ears picked up something dangerous and hungry. The screech of an hawk rattled the ground. The blue eyed mouse hid Fane in one of the small caves in the mountain as he prepared to take on another hawk.
Santier was at a disadvantage compared to the hawk's keen eyesight. He felt the powerfull guists of wind the raptor whipped around. Almost instantly the hawk came down and sunk it's claws into Santier's soft fur. He screamed as the hawk dug deeper into him. He felt his warm blood ooze out as he barely held back the hawk. The bloody hawk screeched into the sky, a loud victory call to others. The mouse closed his eyes as his muscles finally gave up and waited for the hawk to win.
Santier collapsed as the hawk's overwhelming weight crushed him. Suddenly he felt the hawk's weight disappearing, as if something had carried it off. The wounds he had felt like nothing as the hawk disappeared from him. Santier opened his eyes a little to see an unfamiliar mouse gazing at him