In the warm afternoon sun near the bank of the River Moss an odd group lay about. A rat, a weasel, and strangely enough, a white hare. While this would seem like a sight to behold for most beasts, to them it seemed completely normal. The two vermin stood throwing knives and shooting arrows at a nearby oak as the hare was paying close attention to an incomplete map. “Hah, right in the middle o’ the leaf! Told ye I was a better shot.” Said the rat As he pulled back for the throw he overbalanced and fell upon the hare, almost ripping the map in half with his blade. “Where is your camp, vermin?!”