Journaling {open}

[Cayenne]

Cayenne sat against an apple tree, her pencil twirling in her paw as she gazed up through the branches at the clear blue sky. The weather was quite warm, and a slight breeze blew the warm air around Cayenne in an enjoyable manner. The small brown bound notebook in her lap was open to an empty page, with only the date written thus far. It was the Summer of Second Chances. Could that not be more appropriate? Cayenne's attention was distracted by the sound of dibbuns playing nearby. She watched them fondly. She spent much of her time with dibbuns, though she quite clearly remembered a time when she never spent time with anyone. She looked down at her journal and thought of the mutitudes just like it with her things upstairs. Most of them full of very sad memories, like her mother's passing. But now was her Summer of Second Chances. No longer would she be closed off. This was her summer to be reborn.

[Treble Tiderunner]

Fern walked through the orchard, munching an apple as she searched for the perfect place to sit and enjoy the book she had just gotten. Skipper and the mute mole had found a hidden cache of them, all dusty and insect-eaten. Fern had been on the books rapidly, pleased to have some new reading material at last. Redwall was turning out to have quite the library, shoved in closets, hidden beneath stairs. Anywhere and everywhere. Redwall was rumoured to have been quite famous for its library. She wanted to help that become reality.

She rounded a pair of trees growing close together. There was a mousemaid ahead of her on the right, sitting against a tree. Fern approached with a smile, "Hi, I'm Fern." The ottermaid said in her quiet voice.

[Cayenne]

Cayenne looked up quickly from her revery, slightly startled.
"Hello," she said. Though her manner was one of a very shy creature, she spoke confidently with an air of knowledge. "I am Cayenne. It's nice to meet you." She smiled so she didn't seem unfriendly. Of all the creatures she'd met since coming to Redwall, the otters tended to be the most enthusiastic. She hadn't really known any otters when she had lived in Mossflower.
Cayenne rose up from the ground in order to more properly greet Fern. She smiled as she noticed the book in Fern's paw. When Cayenne wasn't writing, she was usually reading.

[Rakko]

**If it is still open I will join with a character I haven't gotten to use yet **

Perhaps it was the silence. Perhaps it was the pretty ladies. Or (far more likely) perhaps it was the large ruck collection that had found itself cuddling with the roots of a large tree. Whichever it may have been, a young weasel had found his way from the group of dibbuns, over to where Cayenne and now Fern had found themselves.

The day itself was nice; clear blue skies with not a single cloud and only a slight breeze to keep the silence from being to silent. The young creature's wide blue eyes had locked onto the dull rocks at the base of the tree and he headed right for them, hardly noticing the two maids who greeted each other.

Once he arrived at the tree, he knelt and looked at them. After a few seconds, he dropped his entire body to the ground and touched his nose to the stone. After a quick glance around, he shot out his tongue and licked it. Half a second later, he jumped up with excitement and started dancing giddily. "Dur hazza my rockers!" He turned to the two gals and ran toward the closest (who happened to be Cayenne) and gripped onto her skirt, pointing again at the rocks. "My rockers! Mizzus helpz me gets my rockers!" He started pulling at the skirt to bring her over to the rocks.

[Treble Tiderunner]

"Hello," she said. Though her manner was one of a very shy creature, she spoke confidently with an air of knowledge. "I am Cayenne. It's nice to meet you."

Fern tilted her head, trying to get a look at the thin notebook. “What are you writing?” She asked curiously, perhaps the mousemaid was writing stories, or poems. Fern liked to write poems herself.

"Dur hazza my rockers!" He turned to the two gals and ran toward the closest (who happened to be Cayenne) and gripped onto her skirt, pointing again at the rocks. "My rockers! Mizzus helpz me gets my rockers!"

Fern looked down at the dibbun who was pulling at Cayenne’s skirt, all excited and babbling in the baby language. The ottermaid smiled indulgently, though she was very glad the weasel hadn’t chosen her. She had come for peace and quiet, a rare thing to find among the young creatures.

"Can you understand him?” She asked Cayenne.

[Cayenne]

Cayenne opened her mouth to answer Fern's question when a young weasel ran up and started tugging on her skirts, babbling loudly and gesturing towards some rocks. She laughed and followed him, smiling apologetically at Fern for the interuption. "Can you understand him?" Fern asked. Cayenne laughed and disentangled the dibbun from her skirts.
"Yes," she replied. "The time I don't spend writing I usually spend with the dibbuns. He's apparently rather fond of the rocks." She knelt down so she was face to face with the little weasel. "What do you want with the rocks, dear?" She asked kindly.

[Rakko]

The tiny sandy creature started waving his arms around franticly when the maid finally looked down to aknowledge the dibbun. Now, the young creature's idea of time was far different then either of the maid's or reality, so after a large sigh he muttered something about 'Fihnerley!' under his breath before tugging a little harder on herr skirt. When she (finaly) spoke to him, his eyes widened.

"What do you want with the rocks, dear?"

He shook his head in disbelief and put his paws on his hips. Sighing as though he wav talking to stupidbeasts, he explained. "Uhm, ze rockerz behs mah frinz and they'ms tarped! They needz halps to gurt free, duh!" He pointed again to the rocks with gret emphasis, trying hois best to get his point across to the maid.