A little (one) can sometimes see things in others that us older ones cannot because our judgement gets clouded.

—Abbot Saxtus

I am a people watcher and I have a very good memory.

Quick as a flash, Sawney Rath's eyes hardened. "Then I'm ordering you to skin Felch alive!" He took the otter's paw, closing it over the knife handle. "Obey me!"
The crowded clearing became as silent as a tomb. All eyes were upon the Taggerung, awaiting his reaction to the order.
Tagg turned his back on Sawney and strode to the side of the fox strung up to the beech bough. He raised the blade. Felch shut his eyes tight, his head shaking back and forth as his nerves quivered uncontrollably. With a sudden slash Tagg severed the thongs that bound him. Felch slumped to the ground in a shaking heap. Tagg's voice was flat and hard as he turned to face Sawney.
"I'm sorry to disobey your order. The fox is a sorry thief, but I will not take the life of a helpless beast.

Boorab's spear was a window pole. He stood on the second step, barring their way. "Who goes there? State y'business, wot?"
Brother Hoben tapped an impatient paw on the bottom step. "Come out of the way, please. We'ew going to the walltop."
The hare twitched his whiskers officiously. "No Dibbuns allowed up here. You're not Dibbuns, are you?"
Cregga took hold of the window pole he was clasping and lifted both Boorab and the pole, with one paw, down onto the grass. "Do we look like Dibbuns? Don't try my patience, sah!"
"Just doin' one's duty," he muttered up the steps after them, somewhat creastfallen. "I was only asking a civil question, wot. Humph, some creautres!

Absoballylutely top hole, wot. A and B the C of D I'd say. . . Above and Beyond the Call of Duty.

Where's the point in fighting and slaying if you can make a friend out of anybeast instead of a foe?