Taken In (Jan and Alex)

[Django]

Django and his father Martin had begun their trek through Mossflower woodlands. The sun was shining, but Martin could see some clouds gathering in the south as he and his son headed west to the famous Abbey. Martin had once lived at the Camp Moss, and heard tales about Redwall as it was in its glory days, but he had fallen in love with a Mossflower girl named Diana and had left the camp to be with her. However, soon after they'd had their son Django, Diana passed away. Martin had been left to raise his son on his own. Django had never felt a terrible loss over his mother's death, for he'd only been a babe at the time, and there fore was unable to recall who she was or even what she was. Django suspected that she was something other than a mouse, for he was curious as to the strange markings on his fur: brown coloring on his fingers, toes and ears, and a brown spot on his eye. Martin had never told him what Diana was in all the time they'd been living in Mossflower, and Django had hardly ever asked, knowing it pained his father to think about his wife's death.
Now Martin wanted to take Django to Redwall, for, according to rumor, it was no longer the oppressive fort it had been all those years ago. The older mouse wanted his son to have a happy life there among kindbeasts and friends.
A few hours later into their journey, the sky became overcast, completely covered with dark grey clouds. Martin almost cursed aloud, then he saw a familiar shape ahead of them: Redwall Abbey's towers. Filled with joy at the sight, he laughed aloud and pounded his son on the back.
"There it is, me lad," he cried, picking up the pace. "Redwall Abbey itself! Come on!" He broke into a run, pulling Django along with him. "Help me hail the walls, son! Hallooo, Redwaaaaall!! 'Tis Martin an' Django, friends of the Abbey!"
Django joined his dad. "Hail, Redwall! Anybeast up there? Hallooo!"

[Grath]

Django joined his dad. "Hail, Redwall! Anybeast up there? Hallooo!"

A bewhiskered face popped over the wall, that of an older mouse. Even from the distance of the ground he seemed frail, but he grinned with the exuberance of a much younger creature. “Ahoy there! Friends o’ the abbey, ye say?” He disappeared, his wavering voice echoing back to them. “Goin’ to get help, nice strong otters to open th’ gate….”

When Alecsander approached the gate following old Reese, he was alarmed to hear sounds of fighting from outside. He rushed past the doddering mouse, flinging open the bolt, taking a firm grip on his long javelin, and charged through the door, yelling wildly.

“Yyyaaaarrrghhh! ‘Tis death!”

[Django]

Django and Martin halted as the big otter came charging out.
"Wait, mate! We're friends! Hold your horses!" Martin shouted, throwing himself in front of his son.
A whizzing sound was heard from the trees, and, as Django turned to see what it was, an arrow embedded itself right next to his ear, in his father's head. With a moan, the older mouse fell face-first to the ground, dead.
Django stared speechless at his father's body, unwilling to believe his own eyes. Another whizzing sound, and a second arrow buried itself into Django's footpaw, jolting the mouse out of his thoughts.
"AUUUUUUGGGHH!" his cry rent the air as the first drops of rain began splattering on the grass. He yanked out the arrow and grabbed a fallen yew branch nearby, whirling to face the woods behind him.
"COME OUT AN' FIGHT, COWARD!!" he shouted, the otter behind him forgotten in his rage. His father was injured, and somebeast had to pay.
Up in the branches of a nearby tree popped the face of a large rat with a bow and an arrow on the string. An evil grin was plastered on his face.
"Oh, did I shoot yer daddy, mouse?" he asked. "Well, mebbe ye should join 'im!" Django ducked as the rat's arrow shot by him. He then remembered the otter.
"We gotta get inside! 'Elp me get my dad!" he shouted to the bigger creature, running to his father's body and trying to lift it. Another arrow slammed into his shoulder, but he ignored the pain.

[Grath]

Alecsander rushed out the door, narrowly avoiding an arrow as one took down the older mouse. Alex growled, he was woefully unprepared for long range combat, he only had one lance and that was because he’d just gotten back from patrol.

The younger mouse was creating quite a ruckus, but Alecsander blocked it out as he scanned the trees, those shots had come from a higher vantage. The large otter took aim, hefting back his javelin. Just as he released it, the impact of a speeding object knocked him back, twisting him off balance. He stamped his foot, standing firm once again. One glance at the trees and he knew he had to get back inside.

"We gotta get inside! 'Elp me get my dad!"

“No time, lad! Naught we can do fer ‘im now!” Without much ado the bigger otter swung the mouse lad up onto his shoulder, turning and taking swift strides back towards the safety of the wicker gate. The wicker gate swung shut just as more arrows were let fly.

“Bloody barnacles,” Alex sat the lad on an overturned and wheeless wheelbarrow, “Wot in blazes was that ’bout?” He yanked at the arrow in his side but swore again when it refused to come out and instead started up a fiery pain over his ribs. “Barbed…” He muttered.

{{Sorry ‘bout the PPing, but your bio says he was carried in. I can change it if you want.}}

[Django]

"M-my dad!" Django cried, sitting stunned on the barrow with two arrows sticking out of him like quills. He looked up at the big otter, tears and rain falling down his face. "Wh-why dinn't you save my dad?!"

He looked over to the wicker gate, now closed. He made to get up and run, but stumbled over the pain in his foot. With a moan, he fell forward, doubled over. He braced himself on his front paws, breathing heavily. The shock of witnessing his father's death was overwhelming. It was a good thing he hadn't eaten in a few hours else he might have gotten sick right then. More tears trekked down his face as the full reality of what had just happened hit him.

"Wot in blazes was that 'bout?"

Django shook his head. "I-I dunno," he whimpered. "We... we was jus' tryin' to get inta Redwall. That-that rat came outta nowhere... an' he... he... he killed my dad!" He began rocking back and forth on his heels, sobs racking his soaked and bloody body.

{{No worries, that was perfect!}}

[Grath]

"M-my dad!" Django cried, sitting stunned on the barrow with two arrows sticking out of him like quills. He looked up at the big otter, tears and rain falling down his face. "Wh-why dinn't you save my dad?!"

The big otter, who had been gazing at the wall, deep in thought, turned back to the young mouse. “”e’s dead, lad.” He said gently, looking down at the seated mouse. When the mouse tried to run for the gate, and instead doubled over crying, Alex stood there, irresolutely opening and closing his paws into fists. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with a wailing and shuddering mouse. The answer was simple with his sister, but he still wasn’t up to comforting a near-stranger-mouse. He didn’t think hauling him into the Abbey qualified him for best-friend-otter.

Django shook his head. "I-I dunno," he whimpered. "We... we was jus' tryin' to get inta Redwall. That-that rat came outta nowhere... an' he... he... he killed my dad!"

Alex patted the mouse on the shoulder, wincing as his paw came away red. “Ach, matey, we’d better get ye t’ th’ ‘ealer.” Without further thought he picked up the mouse lad, gritting his teeth against the pain in his side.

“Alecsander. Wots yore name?”

[Django]

“'e’s dead, lad.”

Django did his best to calm himself as he was carried by the big otter. He tried ignoring the pain in his shoulder and footpaw. "I know," he said quietly.

"Alecsander. Wots yore name?"

"Django," the mouse replied. "My name's Django." After a pause, he added, "Thanks, Alecsander, f-for savin' me . . ." He seemed a lot more calm now, but that may have been because he was rather worn from the emotional stress of losing his father. He may burst into tears later, but right now he could only concentrate on not thinking about what had just happened.

[Tirael]

On the opposite side of the Abbey building, most creatures were unaware that anything was happening at the wallgate. They were simply going about their duties. Among their ranks was Tirael, who was busy teaching his friend Girry about the various herbs he used for healing. He was in the middle of explaining that the daisies Girry had found were actually chamomile when he noticed other Abbeydwellers pointing and gasping at something. Curious, the otter peered around the side of the building; what he saw made him jump to his footpaws and run toward the scene.

As he ran, he was already listing out what he would need to do. Fortunately, both Alex and the strange mouse looked stable, but there was no telling how long they would stay that way. "Try to keep those arrows as still as possible," he panted out as soon as he got close enough. "Alex, tell me everything you can about those arrows." It didn't look like they had an extra one on paw, which was unfortunate; he needed to know what kind of arrow he was going to have to remove--or if it would even be possible. Django seemed to have been fortunate. His wounds seemed relatively shallow. But Tirael was deeply worried about the shaft buried in Alex's side; the fight wasn't over for either of the two, yet.

[Treble Tiderunner]

"Django," the mouse replied. "My name's Django." After a pause, he added, "Thanks, Alecsander, f-for savin' me . . ."

Alec grinned, “No problem, Jan me lad.” Just then Tirael came pounding up, panting and delivering instructions. Alecsander was learning to like this healer-otter, and after all he had stood up for himself when under fire. Alec had been his most intimidating, he rather thought it had left an impression on the lad.

"Try to keep those arrows as still as possible," he panted out as soon as he got close enough. "Alex, tell me everything you can about those arrows."

“’Think they’re barbed.” Alec said, shifting his weight, then winced. “Oop t’the infirmary, then.” He said, stoicly cheerful, and continued his way indoors.

[Django]

Django winced as Alex shifted his weight. His shoulder wound was becoming increasingly more painful. He was pretty sure the big otter was right about the arrows being barbed. As he snuck a glance to the otter running beside Alex, he hoped they were going to see the healer.

He also hoped Alex didn't slip on the wet grass and stones as the rain continued. They were both soaked to the bone by now, and Django was shivering on the otter's shoulder. The mouse clenched his teeth and shut his eyes tight as they continued indoors. He'd experienced pain before, but this was made worse by the emotional fatigue he was feeling. He wanted a bed and he wanted the pain to go away, and he wanted that now.

[Tirael]

“’Think they’re barbed.”

Tirael groaned inwardly, making sure he didn't accidentally do so out loud, as well. A pointy shaft wasn't terribly hard to deal with, but a barbed arrowhead...that was going to be unpleasant. He was only glad that Fern wasn't helping in the infirmary that day; siblings of patients, by virtue of their panicked protectiveness, were quite a hassle to deal with, even when they were your girlfriend.

“Oop t’the infirmary, then.”

"Right," he agreed, and they headed off. Gesturing at Django with a nod of his head, he said, "I'll have to deal with the one in his shoulder first, it's less stable. Then I can deal with yours." Once they reached the infirmary, he had Alex and Django sit on one of the beds. Having done that, he began mashing and mixing various compounds. "I can't put you out while I do this, or you might not wake up. But this should take the edge off it," he said to his two patients. Blowing on the mush, he applied it to Django's shoulder. "This is going to hurt, but I can take the arrow out entirely," he said. I've only read about this, but it should work... Splitting a reed, he inserted both halves in, shielding the flesh from the points of the barb. Then, carefully grasping the shaft and the reed halves, he pulled the arrow out.

Setting the arrow aside, he quickly cleaned and bandaged the wound. "There, try not to move that arm. Rest for now, this bed is yours as long as you need it," he said to Django. The poor mouse seemed rather dismal; Tirael noted that he had met very few creatures that didn't seem messed up in some way.

Inspection of Alex's wound was hardly comforting. Shaking his head, he sighed. "It's gone in too deep, trying to cut or pull it out could kill you. I can snap off most of the shaft, but the arrowhead will have to stay in." Glancing up at the much larger otter's face, he added, "I'm sorry, it's all I can do for you." With that, he set to work.

[Django]

Django only nodded to the healer, sighing in relief as he sat on the bed. He hung his head, tyring to get his thoughts together as he heard the muffled rumble of thunder from outside. His mind ran over the events of the past few hours.

His father was dead. He was at Redwall. The otter named Alecsander had carried him inside and saved his life. The other otter, whose name he didn't know, was obviously the healer. His shoulder and footpaw both hurt like crazy.

He gritted his teeth against the pain, keeping silent for fear he might choke up and start sobbing again if he tried to speak. His tail hung limply on the now-wet sheets. His ears laid back flat on his skull, his eyes shut tight. He followed the healer otter's instructions and kept his arm still. He wondered how many creatures came to Redwall looking like he did now: battered, bruised, soaking wet and orphaned. His father Martin had told him how Redwall was always open to wounded and poor beasts.

Django opened his eyes and smirked, still staring at the floor. He had never known he'd be one of the wounded orphans on Redwall's doorstep.

[Treble Tiderunner]

Having put the young mouselad down, Alec slumped on one of the beds. His outer fur was damp, and his clothes were soaked, but it didn’t truly bother the otter. He’d gotten worst dunkings jumping from ship up North to trying to win contests.

"It's gone in too deep, trying to cut or pull it out could kill you. I can snap off most of the shaft, but the arrowhead will have to stay in." Glancing up at the much larger otter's face, he added, "I'm sorry, it's all I can do for you."

Alecsander had gone into a haze, his mind drifting to other thoughts, but the healer’s voice brought him back. He looked into Tirael’s eyes, evaluating him one last time, Shortly he nodded, settling back against the headboard as directed and clenched his fists.

Once the healer was done, he unclenched his jaw and paws and inspected them, discovering he had small punctures where some of the claws had broken the calloused pads.

“Thank you.” He said hoarsely.

[Tirael]

“Thank you.”

Tirael nodded. "Least I could do," he murmured as he cleaned off his paws. The ugly part of his work was done; now he could move on to something less unpleasant. He returned to his work table, gathering ingredients for a potion that would help his two patients rest and heal. Figuring that he might as well multi-task, he addressed his patients. "Django, use that arm as little as possible or you're going to make your wound worse. Just take it easy, let yourself heal." Glancing at Alex, he resumed his work. "That goes double for you. It'll take a while for your body to get used to the arrowhead, so don't exert yourself. Even after a while, you'll still have to be careful of it."

Pouring off the draught into two small cups, he handed one each to Django and Alecsander. "Here, drink this and rest. I'd like you each to stay until tomorrow morning so I can make sure your treatments are working." In his experience, it would be a miracle if they didn't refuse.

[Django]

"Django, use that arm as little as possible or you're going to make your wound worse. Just take it easy, let yourself heal."

The mouse nodded silently, slumping further onto the bed. He tried his best to stay awake, but the pillows were so comfortable, and he was so tired. His eyes began to close...

"Here, drink this and rest. I'd like you each to stay until tomorrow morning so I can make sure your treatments are working."

The otter healer's words jolted Django out of his stupor. The mouse took the cup and drained it, hardly tasting it. He nodded again and mumbled, "Was plannin' on stayin' any'ow," and flopped back down, dropping the cup as he surrendered to his exhaustion.