"Should one run?" he whispered. This spelt sheer ignorance of the woods.
"Run?" said the Stoat. "Whoever ran from Badger but a rabbit? Badger is all benevolence. Badger is King. We run towards him."
"Who are We?" said the Fox Cub.
"We?" said the Stoat. "Why, Marten, Polecat, Stoat, and Weasel. Flesh-eaters All. All of one Brotherhood. Beasties Courageous. Squirrel is living up to us—he does his best with eggs."
"Squirrel is living up to us?" It was a cough and splutter from above and Stoat and Cub peered upwards. Squirrel sat twenty feet away, and stamped with indignation. "Squirrel is living up to us? My plumed tail! you wait till Squirrel grows."
The Stoat tiptoed towards Him
"Never mind him," said the Stoat, "he's silly."
The broad grey back had swung about, and Badger's head was lifted. Slowly it swayed from side to side, slowly it nodded.