Post by Tarlish on Feb 10, 2011 16:20:50 GMT -6
The Whistling snow caught the edges of the martens drab rob,es flinging them around in his wake like a vigorously flapping flag.
His paws silently treaded the snow which formed and vanished before his booted feet which were caked in crusted snow and ice as where his fur and whiskers.
He ignored the cold, he was almost at his destination anyway.
He could see the famed abbey of Redwall just ahead, it's majestic red sandstone walls towering ahead over the frozen tops of the sleeping trees, like a refuge of warmth and safety in the freezing snow.
Tarlish Sehna of the Ashashani trudged onwards, keenly aware of the freezing cold metal of his sword which cruelly pressed against his fur. He merely gritted his chattering teeth and moved on.
The wind hit him without pity, like a frigid cold wall which sliced him to the bone.
Almost there now, he could see the gates.
Tarlish was an assassin. He had lived through many fights and many of Mossflower's winter, but this time trouble had befallen him. A small group of vermin and miraculously found his winter hideout and obliterated it.
The vandals had been killed of course, but Tarlish had then been left with neither home nor hollow to refuge himself from the winter. Thus was his reason for trekking to Redwall. He merely needed shelter until the weather had lessened its fury, then he could and would depart.
He reached the tall wooden gates with an exhausted smile, he was there! Grabbing a large metal knocker bolted on the surface, he raised it back and then rapped it down upon the door with all of his considerable strength in his aching muscles.
Once, twice, three times the heavy metal knocker slammed down on the door, three times it warned of a traveler seeking entrance. Tarlish then quickly checked over himself, making sure his weapons were tucked away to decrease his threatening demeanor. Then he pulled off his hood, no need to hide his face.
He stood shivering, waiting for the gates to open.
His paws silently treaded the snow which formed and vanished before his booted feet which were caked in crusted snow and ice as where his fur and whiskers.
He ignored the cold, he was almost at his destination anyway.
He could see the famed abbey of Redwall just ahead, it's majestic red sandstone walls towering ahead over the frozen tops of the sleeping trees, like a refuge of warmth and safety in the freezing snow.
Tarlish Sehna of the Ashashani trudged onwards, keenly aware of the freezing cold metal of his sword which cruelly pressed against his fur. He merely gritted his chattering teeth and moved on.
The wind hit him without pity, like a frigid cold wall which sliced him to the bone.
Almost there now, he could see the gates.
Tarlish was an assassin. He had lived through many fights and many of Mossflower's winter, but this time trouble had befallen him. A small group of vermin and miraculously found his winter hideout and obliterated it.
The vandals had been killed of course, but Tarlish had then been left with neither home nor hollow to refuge himself from the winter. Thus was his reason for trekking to Redwall. He merely needed shelter until the weather had lessened its fury, then he could and would depart.
He reached the tall wooden gates with an exhausted smile, he was there! Grabbing a large metal knocker bolted on the surface, he raised it back and then rapped it down upon the door with all of his considerable strength in his aching muscles.
Once, twice, three times the heavy metal knocker slammed down on the door, three times it warned of a traveler seeking entrance. Tarlish then quickly checked over himself, making sure his weapons were tucked away to decrease his threatening demeanor. Then he pulled off his hood, no need to hide his face.
He stood shivering, waiting for the gates to open.
