Humm... [Open]

[Shor]

((This thread is completely open and has no specific direction whatsoever, but it requires at least two more characters. One can meet Fox and the other Crew. Crew is an NPC, technically, but only because I already have four characters in use.))

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Fox hated the cold. As a former inhabitant of southern Southsward, he was unaccustomed to the bitterness of Mossflower winters. He therefore much appreciated the rise in temperatures. The previously waist-high snow was now melting profusely, which meant one thing: the River Moss would swell. Sure enough, Fox and Crew had passed by at least two slightly flooded sections of Mossflower.

Fox waded through the more shaded portions of the woods. As much as he detested the cold, he simply could not resist leaving a trail of prints through the white sky-dandruff. One could track the farmer for quite a distance but not without at least a chuckle. It appeared, from the trail of impressions, that somebeast passing through the area had a terrible habit of falling on his face every fifteen steps or so.

Brushing the snow off his shoulder, Fox laughed to himself. He might not have had the ability to feel his feet, but at least he was having a good time. Fox spotted a patch of bare ground lit by the sun and proceeded to plop down on it. As he tried to absorb as much sun-heat as possible, he wondered where this Redwall-place was supposed to be -- they had been traveling for months and a giant red abbey was nowhere to be seen. Of course, there was little to be seen at all, besides trees.

Fox's thoughts wandered too far, and his eyelids began to droop as he drifted away into. . .

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Crew sat above the River Moss. Perched atop the branch of a half-submerged tree, the big squirrel idly flicked back and forth his bushy tail. His paws held a rod that was attached to a string that was attached to a hook that, with luck, would soon be attached to a fish.

Crew sang an old song absently, humming the parts to which he had forgotten the lyrics.

Oh love that will not let me go
I rest my weary soul in theeeeee
I give thee back the life I owe
That in thine ocean depths hmmhmmmm
May richer fuuulller beeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. . .

Crew took a deep breath.

Oh joy that seekest me through pain
I canmmmhmm my heart to theeeee
I trace the rainbow through the raaaaain
And feel the promise is not vain
That morn shall teeeeeearless
beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. . .

His tenor voice rang loudly but was muffled by the strong rush of the river below him. He remained surprisingly on-key for a musician of his caliber. A beast would be lucky to hear a melody from him at all, for he sang only on special occasions, like when he fished. To him, it was more a way to pass the time than an art.

Quite suddenly, a noise sounded from behind, startling the squirrel. In an instant, he was in the water. In another, he was stomping out of it, glaring with much irritation at the startler.

[Lucasaurusrex]

Rubbler tromped onto the stream bank. His mustly form sinking deep prints into the soggy mud. He was sure he had heard voices this way... And voices meant animals, right? Rubbler, puzzled by this, began absentmindedly arguing with himself. "H'vooices means h'animuls, roight? Than animulz mustz mean food. But h'what if'n teh vooices meanz 'at I'm h'gooin crazy? But h'I'm 'ready h'crazy... Su I con't goo crazy h'gain, cun I?" He stopped and stared at the soaking squirrel stupidly. He asked himself, "And h'dats a squiggle if'n h'I'm nut mistooken, soo he h'must be what I wuz 'earin. But h'what if'n 'e squiggle is jus' ima-gee-neig-tion? Then 'eed h'still be gudd to h'eat, I tink. Maybee teh h'squiggle 'll knu iff he'sn good to eatz. Squiggle, are youz ed-E-bul." He stared at the sguirrel, his only eye twitching.

[Nagini]

Rori didn't really enjoy the snow or the cold, but she could tolerate it quite well and she had to admit that the woods looked pretty covered in snow. Now that it was beginning to melt though, she her tolerance was lessening and she hoped that Camp Moss wouldn't be in danger of flooding again.

She really didn't want to go back there yet. It wasn't that she had anything against the place, but she needed a change of scenery. There was something nice about walking by the riverbank (and by "by", she meant, within sight or earshot of--she liked to stay in the woods), but Rori had little desire to do much more than look at the water.

She wasn't much of a fisher--she didn't even like fish to begin with--and she certainly wasn't going to swim. She was a squirrel, not an otter, and squirrels were climbers, not swimmers.

Rori was putting her climbing skills to use right now, even though she always found it a bit awkward to climb armed. She had to carry her walking stick in her mouth, for one thing.

Rori had brought herself into a tree once she'd noticed the fox drifting off in a patch of sunlight. It was his prints, she realized, that she'd been following out of curiosity. But why sleep in a place like this? she thought, watching the beast from behind.

The fox didn't look too dangerous--or at least, he didn't look too armed--but it still was a fox. Rori wasn't about to take chances. Quietly, she removed her bow and strung it, then took a good-sized nut out of her belt pouch. She threw it at his head and then removed an arrow from her quiver.

"Oi!" she called to him, notching the arrow and drew it. "You shouldn't sleep in the middle of the woods like that."

The arrow was drawn enough that she could take aim at him, but that was about it. If loosed like this, it wouldn't be of any danger. Rori didn't intend to shoot him, not unless he gave her a reason.

[Shor]

. . . Walnut!

Fox's eyes snapped open, and he sat up. Was that a--

"Oi!"

He jumped a bit, quite startled by the sudden yelling. Twisting around, he looked over his shoulder and found a female squirrel pointing a rather sharp object at him from a bow.

"Oh my..." he mumbled. Violent beasts these woodlanders were.

"You shouldn't sleep in the middle of the woods like that," she told him.

He made a face. "Why? Is it yores?" He glanced around at the surrounding dirt and then back up at the weapon-wielding she-squirrel. ". . . I can give it back."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Crew, eyebrow raised in slight confusion, glanced to the side and back at the mole, unsure what to think. "Ummm. . ." he started, trying to decide if he had heard the mole correctly. Surely the stranger hadn't asked if Crew was edible?

At first, Crew had been quite irritated with the mole. Now, no less irritated, he was trying to figure out what to make of this character. Part of him considered laughing aloud at the peculiarity of it all.

". . . Come again?" he asked warily. Crew kept his footpaws spread apart enough that he could run if need be, and his paws hung loosely but readily.

[Nagini]

"No, it's not mine," Rori told him. "It's not any one beast's actually and we prefer to keep it that way. I'm just saying you shouldn't sleep out in the open like that because it isn't very safe, especially if you're alone. I mean, I could've killed you just now if I'd wanted to."

Technically, she could still kill him if she wanted to, but she didn't want to. Instead, Rori lowered her bow, although she kept the arrow notched.

"So," the squirrel said, "what is a fox who sleeps in the middle of the woods and has trouble walking through snow doing here?"

[Lucasaurusrex]

Grubbler was following a particularly large grey-back in the water... Back and firth back and forth, the ripples melting off of it like butter on a warm fox. Rubbler chuckled at his little joke.. Rubbler smacked his lips wantingly. He could use a good meal right now. Meal...meal...food.. Hadn't he just asked that little squirrel over yonder for food? What had he said?? Something about Pardonmayina... Was that a food? Rubbler liked food. In fact, he needed a good meal right now, so his demented brain (not out of hearing the question but out of his own stupidity) asked, "Hmm... Iz youze goood h'eaten? I'oim awfurlly hungy, and h'I thought youze lookened good enuf. But what h'if'n 'ee squiggle doesn't want to bez h'eaten? Would 'ee squiggle put up 'e h'fight?? Oi would h'win, but'en what if'n 'ee squiggles not edeebul, den wut? Would'n it bee justz a h'waste?? I zuppose sur. Oi don' loike wasten 'ee lives.. 'En 'ee vurmin'll feed 'em too me and h'Rubble goies bye bye... Oi shud jus' ask yon squiggle. Oi, are h'you edeebul??"

(*The vermin part is a hallucination*)

[Shor]

"No, it's not mine," Rori told him. "It's not any one beast's actually and we prefer to keep it that way. I'm just saying you shouldn't sleep out in the open like that because it isn't very safe, especially if you're alone. I mean, I could've killed you just now if I'd wanted to."

Fox was appalled. What reason could a total stranger possibly have for killing a sleeping traveler? Fox uttered a simple "Humm..." Was Mossflower truly such an unforgiving place?

"So," the squirrel said, "what is a fox who sleeps in the middle of the woods and has trouble walking through snow doing here?"

"Well. . ." he offered, brow furrowed, ". . . sleeping." He tried a half-smile, but it occurred to him that he was more rightfully suspicious than she. "My turn." He rose to his footpaws and approached the squirrel, stopping precisely three feet from the tip of her arrow. With an outstretched paw, he introduced himself. "Name's Fox. . . I know. My parents weren't very creative. Now, what do I call you?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As the evidently marble-less mole mulled over the idea of eating his newest acquaintance, Crew stretched out his paws in confusion. "Uh, I'm right here? I can hear--"

"Oi, are h'you edeebul??"

Crew raised an eyebrow and glanced at the ground for a second. Well, it was worth a shot.

". . . Umm. . . no?" he tried.

[Nagini]

Rori didn't know what to think of this fox as he got up and stopped so close to her arrow. After he introduced himself and offered his paw, she stood up and put the arrow back into her quiver. He didn't seem very threatening or even armed for that matter.

Could be concealing things though, Rori thought, but didn't let her suspicions keep her from being polite. She unstrung her bow, put it back onto her back, grabbed her walking stick, and dropped out of the tree.

"Name's Fox. . . I know. My parents weren't very creative. Now, what do I call you?"

"No, I suppose they were not very creative," she said of Fox's parents with a bit of a humor in her tone. She was hesitant about offering her own paw, but since he seemed relatively harmless and she could wield a sword with her other paw.

"You can call me Rori," she told him and shook his paw. "If you don't mind my asking, where are you from?"

[Lucasaurusrex]

Rubbler sighed half heartedly... He replied, "Oookkieee... 'Ee squiggle is h'not edeebul... I'm gurtly wish e waz... I shuld trust h'the gud beasty, 'ee's proobably savin' h'me froom poosun. D'at would be h'owful way for oold h'Rubbler to goes. Maybe 'ee squiggle 'as veetles for heem to h'eat. Oi'll ask 'im. H'oi, 'ittle squiggle, do you'z 'as 'ee h'vittles to be'a eaten'?" Rubbler sat down in dispear. He doubted the squirrel had food. Most animals didn't bring food fishing. He looked up at the sky, asking to no one, "H'why is 'ee cruwl world h'so veecious h'too mee'self... Nao I doan' gots 'ee food to be eaten'... Maybe h'a foxur twill cum walkin' aloong... Den I'z cook 'im!" This idea caused Rubbler to chear up brightly. He got up and smiled. Maybe the squirrel did have food. Even if he did not, he would find food from a vermin encampment, or somewhere else.

[Shor]

Fox smiled as he shook Rori's paw heartily. Good. Perhaps this squirrely wouldn't prove so vicious after all. "I'm just south o' Southsward,"-- he gestured with his thumb as though it were only a few miles away --"but I'm kinda just wanderin' about now. . . Yoreself?" He maintained a half-smile as the thought of Crew meeting Rori crossed his mind; that could prove a fairly amusing encounter.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Crew almost laughed aloud. He couldn't believe that it had actually worked. Even so, he wished not to waste his good fortune and had therefore already taken several steps away from the raving lunatic. Unfortunately, he was stopped by a question momentarily.

"H'oi, 'ittle squiggle, do you'z 'as 'ee h'vittles to be'a eaten'?" asked the mole, who then proceeded to plop down and continue spewing words with no apparent logic to direct them.

As soon as the drivel had ceased, Crew, eyebrow lowered, pointed back at the River Moss behind him. "Uh, well, actually, I was hopin' my food would be somewhere in there. . . That's why I'm here?" His voice faltered a bit there at the end due to his uncertainty that the mole's behavior would remain consistent.

[Nagini]

"I'm just south o' Southsward, but I'm kinda just wanderin' about now. . . Yoreself?"

"Ah." Rori nodded. "I'm just from Mossflower Woods." She waved a paw at the surrounding forest. "I'm not really sure where in it I was born though. Somewhere in the eastern part, I think, but my family moved around a lot during the war. I suppose I'd have to ask my mother about it."

Maybe Fox wasn't so bad, Rori though. He was friendly at least and still didn't seem very threatening. Still, something kept her from feeling as comfortable around him as she might a hare or a mouse. It was probably just a bundle of left-over feelings from the war and the battle for Redwall. She knew not all foxes were bad--just as not all mice and things were good--but doubted those emotions were going away any time soon.

"I've never been to Southsward or south of it," Rori said, deciding she should continue the conversation since that was polite and Fox was being nice and all. "I've heard it's lovely though, or at least quite warm compared to here."

[Shor]

"Ah." Rori nodded. "I'm just from Mossflower Woods." She waved a paw at the surrounding forest. "I'm not really sure where in it I was born though. Somewhere in the eastern part, I think, but my family moved around a lot during the war. I suppose I'd have to ask my mother about it."

He nodded as though genuinely interested. Fox had heard much about the war since entering Mossflower country. This was one of the few stories that didn't involve the apparent death of a mother or father.

"I've never been to Southsward or south of it. I've heard it's lovely though, or at least quite warm compared to here."

Fox shook his head. "Ah, no, Mossflower's just cold." He laughed at his own joke. It was mainly a way to keep things light and friendly -- dispelled the awkward silences. Still, it seemed that Rori was a bit uncomfortable talking to a beast whom most considered vermin. And perhaps he technically was vermin, but he was the good kind. So, to prove this to Rori, he offered, "Um, so I have this friend fishing somewhere yondirection"-- he invented that word himself --"Name's Crew. He's a squirrel -- like you -- an' I think you might like t'meet 'im." He paused for a moment with an inquiring look at Rori. ". . . Would ye mind goin' furra liddle walk? Ah promise it won' take long. 's jus' down this way." Maintaining his gaze, he took a hesitant step or two toward the River Moss.

[Nagini]

“Um, so I have this friend fishing somewhere yondirection"-- he invented that word himself --"Name's Crew. He's a squirrel -- like you -- an' I think you might like t'meet 'im." He paused for a moment with an inquiring look at Rori. ". . . Would ye mind goin' furra liddle walk? Ah promise it won' take long. 's jus' down this way."

“That’s a curious name for a squirrel,” Rori observed steadily as she considered Fox’s offer. Her mental critique of it was harsher than the vocal version. When Fox had said his name, Rori had thought, What kind of a name is that?!

Part of Rori was still skeptical and didn’t really want to go with him, but the rest didn’t think she would be in much danger. “Sure. Lead the way,” she told Fox and then asked, “Is Crew from the south too? Does everyone there have odd names?”

[Lucasaurusrex]

When Rubbler heard that the squirrel was hiding the vittles in the river, and got up, a few tears falling from his face, as he asked despairingly, "H'why are 'oo 'iding all 'ee vittles in deh h'reever?! Why 'ittle Squiggle?! WHY?!" He then proceeded to collapse on the ground, rolling around like a dibbun. Tears were now pouring down his face. He crawled over to the stream bed, and yelled out, "Why?! H'why?!" He then crawled into the stream and began pawing along the shallow end, digging up dirt. Then a large bass whacked him over the head and he collapsed, knocked out into the river.


He awoke quite quickly, and had a sudden mood swing. He stood up, and formally bent down with his arm across his chest, water pouring down his body back into the stream, as he formally stated, "Please, dear Sir, forgive my inexcusable behavior a few moments ago. I apologies for this hordid display of myself. Please do not hold that as a representation of my daily reputation, good Sir. Now, back to the topic of victuals. Do you happen to have an extra fishing line? O have a skill with the little devils." Rubbler then smiled pleasantly up at the squirrel, soaking matted down hair sticking to his body, giving him the appearance of a ball of fur.

[Shor]

The funniest thing about Rubbler's offering his paw to the confused squirrel was that no such squirrel could be found in fifty feet. Crew had vanished into the trees, absolutely certain that he no longer wished to remain where Rubbler could see him.

Fox stepped gingerly over a fallen tree and offered to help Rori over. "Aye, he's from the south. Does everyone in Mossflower have odd names, Rori?" he remarked, smiling playfully.

At that moment, a brown blur nearly knocked Fox flat on his back. This surprise was followed shortly by a shout from the fleeing squirrel. "Crazy mole!"