The cask of scent we brought appears weak. Beagan noticed it, and then brilliantly saved the day by strengthening it on the spot. I’ll have to remember to talk to him about what could have gone wrong with it. On the one hand, I know the poor sciencemice of Sprucetuck work hard, and I should be amazed that they’re able to brew something like this at all rather than concerned that they made a single weak batch, but we’ve come to depend greatly on this scent. The border is important, and bears scrutiny. I’d hate to bring this news to Gwendolyn and spark a major investigation that would get them in trouble if they simply missed one batch. We were lucky to have Beagan with us to fix the problem. But what if this indicates other problems at Sprucetuck? Worse, what if our scent was sabotaged?
We found evidence that weasels had sabotaged the Scent Border. We found a fox eating a hare inside the Scent Border. We moved to drive it back over (and perhaps teach it a healthy fear of mice along the way). A fox is a dangerous and cunning enemy, but our patrol proved more dangerous and more cunning. The adolescent hares left orphaned by the fox’s attack, lost and confused by the tragedy, came with us. This proved quite useful when Martin tried to run. Of course, he stood little chance against us mounted on hares. We tried to convince the hares to join us, but once they had had some time to recover, they preferred to strike out on their own. We wished them good fortune and bade them farewell.
I decided to try to track down the weasels responsible for sabotaging the Scent Border. Foolishly, I ignored everything I tell my patrol mates and went alone. I found some weasels, all right, and very nearly did not live to tell the tale. Instinct took over, and fortunately a mouse trying to run and hide is a very difficult thing to catch. I was able to escape the weasels and make it back to my patrol.
We’re now encamped just inside the Scent Border. Beyond lies the ruins of Ferndale, my home. Tomorrow we’ll set out for it. It will be the first time I’ve come home since the Destroyer reduced it to ruin. Our mission is to recover the Sacred Horn, but I have another goal, a more personal one: to finally bury my mother.