Vixen Warfare

© 2003 Christian "Nameless" Schimkowitsch

All characters © Christian Schimkowitsch
Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.



Gerlinde was pissed. The vixen was sure Ragnar had cheated with the straws, but unless she could prove it, she would only lose face if she confronted him about it. It had been really difficult to earn the right to accompany the males on a raid, they had not wanted to take a femme along, but after she had bested several males in single combat and nearly won the fight against Ragnar himself as well, they just had not been able to deny her. Still, if she questioned his leadership, he would not take her along again. She had been angry when she drew the short straw and had to stay behind to guard the boat on their first raid, but that had been the luck of the draw. Or so she believed at the time.

But now she had drawn the short straw again and she was livid. It had cost all of her self-control not to wipe the smug grin from Ragnar's muzzle when she got the short straw again. She had nearly gone into her berserk rage and disemboweled him when he told her in a smug voice that it was the luck on the draw and he would not make any exceptions for her. Cursing under her breath, she stalked up and down the beach. From time to time she glared at Gunther, a bear, who stood on the prow of the beached boat and scanned the coast without showing any emotions.


Suddenly her ears perked up and swiveled to catch a noise. When she recognized the scraping noise, "Some fur who is running very fast. In my direction!" she gripped her shield tighter and hefted the battle-axe. She was almost disappointed when the wind brought her a whiff of scent and she recognized the approaching fur even before she saw him "Harold! What is he doing here?" Harold was a squirrel, the only fur in the raiding party who was not a carnivore. And he was not much of a fighter but he ran quickly and was good at scouting the land. Harold was also the designated healer of the raiding party, a task that the warrior males thought only fit for a femme.

When he was close enough to talk, she shook her axe at him and shouted "What do you want, Harold?"

"Gerlinde! Gunther! We have a problem!" He padded closer and sat down, breathing heavily. He must have run quite a way. After taking a few deep breaths, he explained "We found a monastery or something like that. The furs there surrendered right away and showed us where they had hidden their loot in exchange for sparing their lives. Ragnar and most of the others climbed down into the cavern where they stored their stuff. I stayed away from them, on the lookout for approaching enemies. But they had several warriors hidden somewhere and they overpowered the few of us who stayed at the surface and trapped the others in the cavern. What shall we do?"

Gunther and Gerlinde looked at each other, then he asked "How many warriors are there?"

"I did not count them, we killed several, but there were several left alive and fit to fight, maybe a dozen. Once I saw what happened, I came here as quickly as I could."

Gerlinde grinned "Seems like it is up to us to rescue Ragnar and the others."

"Do you think we can win against a dozen warriors, Gerlinde?"

"We have to try. And quickly." She turned back to the squirrel "Harold, where are they?"

"There is a road further back, follow it for maybe two miles to the west and north."

"All right. Get back and find out as much as you can, Harold. Gunther and I will get ready for battle and follow you. We'll think of something."

For a moment Gunther seemed unsure if he should let the femme take the initiative, but then he shrugged his shoulders and said "Yes, we have to try. Let's go."

Harold sped back while Gerlinde and Gunther fetched some more weapons from the ship.


They crouched down at the edge of a ridge and considered the situation. Harold had counted ten warriors. Gerlinde could see them standing in a loose group around a fire close to the entrance to the cavern. One of them shouted taunts at their trapped friends.

"Hmmm, with their fire, we might be able to circle upwind and get close enough to catch one or two with our spears before they notice us."

"I don't think so, Gunther." Gerlinde said "There are three cats with bows, I seriously doubt that we will get close enough to do anything useful that way. Not with a clear sky and half a moon shining brightly. We have to get close enough to attack them in close combat, before they have a chance to use their bows."

"We can't. There is no cover we could use to sneak up on them. They'll see us long before we can get close enough."

"I fear that you are right." Gerlinde mused. Then an idea began to form "Hmmm, maybe we can find a way of getting close to them without them attacking us..."

"No way. They will be expecting trouble. They won't let any armed male anywhere close enough."

Gerlinde grinned as her plan began to take shape "What about an unarmed femme?"

"An unarmed femme?" Gunther asked "You... you think of just walking up to them. Without shield and axe? What could you do to them?"

"Hmmm, well, I would not really be unarmed. I'd have to leave the shield, of course. But maybe I could hide one of the small axes on my body..."

"Don't you think they would be very suspicious? You don't speak their language well enough to fool them into thinking you are a local looking for help. Not if you have to talk to them."

"Maybe... But maybe I could find a way to distract them..." She grinned "Suppose you were on guard there and you saw a femme walk up to you, what would you do?"

"I'd call you a warning and tell her to stop and explain herself."

"If she did not answer?"

"I'd shoot her."

"Now, suppose that femme was me and I was not wearing any clothes and sashaying up to you really sexy like, what would you do?" Gerlinde waited a few seconds for an answer, but none was forthcoming. She reached out her paw, and closed Gunther's open muzzle, almost causing him to bite off his tongue. Grinning widely, she chided him "Keep at least a little of your drool inside!"

"I... I was just thinking of an answer." He stammered, his facial fur fluffing out.

"That's what I thought. We'll do it." Gerlinde decided and set down her shield and weapons.

"But..." Gunther protested.

"No buts. Or do you have a better idea?" When he shook his head, she said "Then we do it my way."


A few minutes later Gerlinde was ready. She had looped a piece of string around her neck: The small axe that hung from it completed her attire. "All right, boys. I'm going in now. Try to get as close as possible but don't take any chances. If they hear you before I attack, they might realize what I'm trying to do. Wait until I attack, then help me."

"Good luck, Gerlinde. May the Gods be with you."

"Odin help me! If this does not work, we'll see each other in Valhalla soon enough." With that she stood up and began to walk slowly towards the fire and the enemy warriors sitting there.


"Stop!" Gerlinde flinched a little when one of the enemies finally spotted her and raised his bow. Smiling invitingly and swaying her hips, she slowly walked on.

"What do you want? Stop or I'll shoot you." She took another step and the other warriors turned to her and raised their weapons. Then she saw the eyes the male cat's eyes widen when he realized just how much clothing she was wearing. Or rather, how much clothing she was not wearing. She had to concentrate to keep her movements natural and inviting. She had to fight to keep her tail up and waving in a friendly manner, not tucked between her legs in fear. Three drawn bows were aimed straight at her. She would be dead in an instant if one of the furs' suspicions overcame his desire. Their muzzles stood open and their eyes were glued to her swaying body. Frighteningly, so were the arrows. It took a lot of willpower to keep from trembling and to keep her paws in sight. She wanted to grip the handle of the axe so badly, but she knew she could not do that. She took another step closer.


"Only three more steps." Gerlinde stood only a yard and a half from the closest male. The hollow feeling in her stomach was horrible, his arrow pointed straight at it. She took another step forward, swishing her tail and swaying her hips. She forced herself to lick her lips in anticipation. She brought her right paw behind her back, thrusting her breasts forward a little more.

Finally the male cat lowered his bow and reached for her. Gerlinde took a step forward, then another. His paw closed on her breast and she let him savor the feeling for a heartbeat as her paw grasped the handle of her axe.


Her inviting smile turned into a feral grin as she yanked at the axe handle. With a fluid motion she brought it around and drove it into the male cat's stomach. The delighted look on his face turned into one of horrified surprise as the air whooshed out of his lungs and he began to fold up slowly. Long before he did fold up, Gerlinde stepped past him, and used her left paw to draw the long knife he wore on his belt. The male cat curled up, desperately trying to keep his intestines inside his belly, fell over and curled up on the ground. The pain was so bad he could not even scream.

The second enemy who had been standing a few feet behind the first one had also lowered his bow while he stared at the pretty femme. His eyes barely had time to widen in surprise before the vixen stepped forward and ran him through with the knife. He moaned in pain and dropped the bow. The knife had severed a major blood vessel in his stomach and his lifeblood sprayed all over the vixen, enveloping her in the iron scent of fresh blood.

Gerlinde growled as the scent of fresh blood hit her nostrils and turned her vision blood red. With a bloodcurdling scream she jumped at the third archer. He even managed to bring up his bow and get off a shot. But the arrow only grazed the femme. Gerlinde did not even feel the pain, the slight wound only made her madder. With a powerful swing she loped off the archer's right arm and stepped past him to engage the other warriors. Gerlinde ignored the stricken male who presses his other paw against the stump of his right arm, vainly trying to keep from bleeding to death.


To her berserk senses the others moved in slow motion. With a few quick strides she steppe up to the closest of the warriors, a wolf. He barely managed to bring up his shield in time to block her axe. Gerlinde easily dodged his clumsy answering swing and stabbed at his belly, which he had exposed by raising his shield. Her thrust split the rings of his mail shirt and drove deep into the male. Howling in fury she withdrew the dagger and turned to evade the charge of one of the other warriors. The sword dropped from the wounded warrior's suddenly feeble paw. He toppled slowly, pressing his fingers on the wound in his stomach.

The ferret who rushed her scored a deep wound on her left arm. Gerlinde hardly felt anything, but her fingers opened involuntarily, dropping the knife. She spun away from the ferret, keeping the wounded wolf between them for a moment while she regained her balance. Less than a heartbeat later, she shoved the wolf out of the way and swung at the ferret. He raised his shield to ward off her blow. Her axe glanced off his shield and caught him full in the neck, almost severing it. Only a flap of flesh kept his head from falling off completely. Once more Gerlinde was showered with blood as the already dead body of the ferret collapsed with a loud clatter.

She barely felt the wound when a male lion stabbed at her thigh with his spear. That wound bled heavily, so heavily that she would undoubtedly bleed to death if the wound was not bandaged soon, but at first it did not slow her down at all. She turned, raised her axe again and split the skull of the lion. For a moment her axe was stuck, but then she tugged it free.

And barely managed to avoid being beaten into a bloody pulp by the mace of a male bear. She backpedaled a few steps and recovered. Then she stepped forward again, swinging her axe directly at his head. The bear raised his shield, but the axe split it and cut deeply into his arm. He howled in pain, while Gerlinde tried to wrestle her axe free again. But this time it was stuck for good. After a few fruitless tugs that at least kept the much larger bear off-balance, she gave it up as a bad job. She dodged a wild swing of his mace and spotted the sword the ferret had dropped. A few quick steps brought her there and she picked it up, barely evading another swing. Turning, she swung it two-pawed. The bear had raised his mace and his shield was on the wrong side. The blade cut right through his leather armor and only stopped when it hit his spinal cord. With a mighty heave Gerlinde pulled it out as the huge male collapsed with a last howl of anguish.

She turned and confronted two wolves who advanced on her side by side. She swung her sword at one of them, but he parried and she had to jump back to avoid the attack of the other wolf. She caught her foot on the dead bear and fell sideways. One of the wolves swung at her and she barely managed to roll aside at the last moment, but the blow cut off some of her headfur. The heartbeat in which the wolf's sword was stuck in the ground was enough for her. She twisted around and hacked at the wolf's legs. Using every last ounce of her berserk strength, she cut through both of his ankles. He collapsed backward, howling in pain.

His companion had to evade the collapsing body and thus gave Gerlinde enough time to get to her feet again. They traded several blows, then he managed to knock the sword out of her paws. The wolf raised his sword, planning to finish off the vixen with a mighty blow. She surprised him by jumping at him, grabbing his shield with both paws and pulling him towards her. Her jaws closed on his throat and the sword dropped out of his suddenly lifeless fingers as Gerlinde was sprayed by his blood. Still keeping her jaws locked on his throat, she went down with him when he collapsed.

The blood splattered vixen grabbed his sword and jumped up again, turned and faced the last of the enemy warriors. The young ferret stared at her with wide open eyes and pleaded "Please don't kill me!" With a few strides she closed the distance and batted his raised sword out of his paws. Her return swing loped his head right off. The berserk vixen turned, looking for more enemies.


Harold stared in disbelief as the last of the enemies fell when he and Gunther were still several yards away from Gerlinde. He yelped in fear when she turned to him and growled in anger "She is really berserk!" he realized and almost fell on his face when he dug in his heels. "No, Gerlinde! I'm a friend! Don't you recognize me? I'm Harold" He yelped and backpedaled furiously to get away from the blood splattered vixen who was advancing on him with murder and madness in her eyes.

Suddenly the berserk rage left Gerlinde and she stared at her friend. Then she howled in pain and collapsed. Whimpering piteously, she curled up into a fetal position.

When Harold realized what had happened, he quickly padded up to the stricken vixen and examined her. He grabbed one of the rags from his pockets and began to bandage her wounds while Gunther made sure none of the enemy warriors would trouble them while they freed their friends. He almost threw up when he surveyed the carnage in front of him. He had seen plenty of blood and severed limbs before, but this... One single fur, a femme at that, had caused such carnage in the space of only a few heartbeats. "Note to self: Don't ever make that vixen angry at you." He thought as he tied a second rag around the heavily bleeding wound on her thigh.


The End




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