One Step Further ((open))

[Ivyrose]

The only sounds in the quiet night were that of a mouse's paws drumming against the earth, and the ragged breath caught in her chest. Blood oozed from wounds caused by charging through the forest with little light. Spooky shadows tricked her mind into thinking some beast was following her in the empty forest. Paws pumping, the mouse used her last scraps of conserved energy to put on a extra spurt of speed. Foliage flew by, colors flashed, branches whipped at her face as Selina made progress further into Mossflower Woods. Gasping for breath, Selina exited the trees of Mossflower.

The Abbey of Redwall was naught more then three paces away, yet Selina couldn't make it. Reaching out with a paw, she made as if to grab something imaginary. Tripping, Selina fell to the ground, twisting as she fell, with a sickening crack sounding from her left foot paw. Struggling to regain her footing, she collapsed with a faint gasp of pain. Just one step further. Gazing up, and reaching out a paw, Selina fell limp. It was all to much for her mouse to handle. The world clouded over with a dark mist as the young mouse lost consciousnesses in front of the abbey gate.

[Nagini]

Kolfinna still harbored mixed feelings about night. She liked the way the moon and sky looked and also how well she blended in, but the presence of owls put a damper on the whole thing.

As she sat atop one of the wall's watchtowers, Kolfinna debated returning to her nest just to check on it and make sure nothing had been stolen. Before she reached a decision, however, the raven's attention was stolen by a running mouse.

And then it fell with a cracking sound.

What was it with rodents and falling? They spent their lives on the ground. They should know how to go about without tripping. Kolfinna spent most of her time in the air and she knew how to walk on earth without losing her balance!

Even if it was injured, Kolfinna expected this mouse to get up after it fell. When it didn't, she looked more closely, wondered if it might have died, and swooped down.

She landed close to the downed mouse and walked over to it. To her disappointment, she saw that it was still breathing. Pity, Kolfinna thought, looking it over.

She thought about dispatching it with a quick jab to the back of its skull, but since she wasn't hungry, decided not to. She also imagined that the abbey-dwellers would be cross with her if she killed the weird-colored mouse. Even if she didn't kill it and just flew it over the wall, they'd still probably think she'd hurt it. Rodents were stupid like that.

Fine then, the raven thought and flew back up to the wall.

"Oooi, furry things!" she cawed, aiming the call out across the abbey grounds. "You've got a half-dead mouse outside your gate!"

[Ivyrose]

((Umm... Should I just assume that Selina is unconscious throughout the whole thing and wait for someone else to post?))

[Nagini]

((Uh... I have no idea. XD Maybe.))

[Django]

Django had no idea why he was up at this unrighteous hour. What was it about the night that always made him restless? This was a time for sleeping, he would tell himself. But his body hardly listened. No use trying to fall back asleep now. He might as well--

"Oooi, furry things! You've got a half- dead mouse outside your gate!"

The spotted mouse was instantly alert. He jumped out of bed, grabbing his trusted yew staff as he bolted from the room. On his way to the abbey gates, he tried to be as stealthy as possible, so as not to wake anyone else up. In his haste, he slammed into the doors of Great Hall. Wincing, he hoped the loud echoing bang wouldn't disturb the rest of the abbey.

Once outside, he quickly searched for the source of the call. He didn't have excellent night vision, and even though the moon was bright, he couldn't see anyone. It made no difference. If there was a dying mouse outside the gates, he needed to help. He stopped at the huge oaken doors, catching his breath from his flight downstairs. Suddenly, and it might have just been the darkness surrounding him, he didn't feel like this was a good idea. Maybe it was a trick, and a gang of vermin were waiting for some stupid boy like him to open the gates and storm the abbey. But wasn't the chance worth taking? Redwall had helped him, and he wouldn't let any other beast be deprived of that.

As quietly as possible, he opened the gates. The ragged bundle of blood and fur on the dirt path put his suspicions to rest. He ran up to the poor girl, laying his staff on the ground as he knelt to inspect her. Was she still alive? Her chest rose and fell faintly. She needed attention now. Gently picking her up, he carried her inside, forgetting his staff in his concern for the injured mouse.

"Healer!!" he yelled. "This mouse needs a healer fast! Somebeast help me!!"

[Tirael]

"Healer!!"

The cry for help was decidedly unwelcome in Tirael's ears. His eyes opened from sleep, but almost immediately narrowed to slits. From the fact that the noise was coming from the window, he knew that whoever was calling was outside--probably by the gates. This was not happening. Not again.

"This mouse needs a healer fast! Somebeast help me!!"

Getting up now that he couldn't pretend it was a dream, Tirael grabbed his emergency kit and a tunic. Struggling to carry the bag, put the tunic on, close the door, and get moving all at once, he looked rather odd, though that wasn't what was on his mind. Rather, as he padded down hallways and eventually stairs, he was wondering why creatures always had to be injured or sick in the middle of the night. It'd be better for everyone involved if they would kindly wait until morning. That's really rude, his conscience interjected, but the otter would wait until later to really chide himself for thoughts like that.

Within a minute or so, Tirael reached the bottom of the stairs, and emerged into Great Hall. Rushing to Django, he helped support the mousemaid he was carrying. "She's a mess," he muttered to himself after a quick look-over. "Let's get her to the infirmary," he said more loudly. "Who is she, do you know?"

[Django]

"Who is she? Do you know?"

Django shook his head as he and the otter healer headed to the infirmary, gently supporting the unconscious mouse.

"I found her outside the gates," he explained. "Someone--someone shouted that there was a half-dead mouse outside the walls." He realized that he probably sounded crazy. "I didn't see who shouted," he continued as they reached the infirmary and laid the mouse on one of the beds. "And I thought maybe somebeast was playing a trick, but I--then I saw her and I wanted to help." Finally, he stopped, out of breath from his run to the gates.

[Ivyrose]

Selina was barley aware of the cawing raven. Her eyelashes fluttered, like leaves caught in a breeze, yet they never opened entirely. The sound of a banging door sounded out into the night. The noise seemed like it was miles away from the young mouse, yet she flinched at it. It echoed in her head, ringing like a bell.

Then she heard footsteps. Frantic, yet wary footsteps. Who could it be? Friend or foebeast? All of the action, as little as it was, was to much for Selina. She fainted again, on the spot.

~~~

The young mouse was totally oblivious to all that happened around her. She was laying on something soft, like a cloud. Was she dead?
A sudden pain of her ankle forced to believe that she wasn't dead. But if she wasn't dead, what was happening?

Her head ached like it had been split open on a rock, but her ankle...

Senlina opened her eyes halfway. She couldn't see clearly, everything was fuzzy. The spotted mouse couldn't make heads or tails of anything. Suddenly, she started to mumble,

"The bleedin, that's what ya got to stop first, the bleedin. Then ya go to deal with the injury, after the bleedn's stopped, ya got to face the real problem... Broken bones need a splint. Scrapes and cut need to be wrapped tightly... Then ya have to treat the patient's shock....." Her speech was slurred and low-toned, hard to distinguish.

Pain shot up her leg as she shifted slightly. Then a fuzzy object moved close by.

[Django]

Django had been prepared to leave and retrieve his staff from outside the gates when the female mouse began to speak. He jumped involuntarily and whirled to face the bed where she lay. He could hardly understand a word she said, but she was speaking, all right. And she was . . . telling Tirael how to treat her injuries? Was she a healer, as well? He tried not to chuckle at the irony. This was a serious situation, not the place for laughter.

"Mr. Tirael?" he began, moving to the mousemaid's side. His words were directed at the otter healer, but he was staring at the injured mouse. "Is there anything I can do to 'elp ye? She looks awful hurt."

((Meh, short.))

[Tirael]

Tirael listened silently to Django's explanation as they lay Selina out on an infirmary bed. His brow furrowed, only partially out of concentration on his work. Something about the story seemed off; the anonymous voice, whatever had delivered this mouse to their gates in this condition...it didn't feel right. The otter decided he would keep close tabs on her, at least until the feeling went away.

As she started to mutter, he went to gather what he'd need to treat her. His main concern was her ankle; the various cuts and bruises were numerous, but they were small and could heal well on their own with very minor tending. Really, what his new patient needed was a lot of rest--

"Mr. Tirael?"

Tirael cringed at the "Mister" that preceded his name. He was no more than two or three years older than Django, the formality felt unnecessary.

"Is there anything I can do to 'elp ye? She looks awful hurt."

Glancing around the infirmary while he processed the question, Tirael said, "Uhh...yeah, actually. Clean her cuts, I can focus on her footpaw." Gesturing toward a small pail of water with a clean rag next to it, he grabbed a foot splint and some bandaging and sat on a stool by the end of the bed. "Be gentle," he added after a moment. Volunteers were well-meaning, but they tended to be too eager. Selina was in bad enough shape without them accidentally making it worse.

[Django]

"Uhh...yeah, actually. Clean her cuts, I can focus on her footpaw."

Django noticed the pail and the rag Tirael gestured to. Taking them in his paws, he returned to the mousemaid's side. He set the pail on a small table near her bed and dipped the rag in the water.

"Be gentle."

The spotted mouse smiled sheepishly as he twisted the rag above the pail, squeezing the excess water out of it. As carefully as he could, he wiped what bleeding wounds he could see. It was a nice, manual task, not much brain power required. He was still a little shaken from hearing the strange voice in the night and discovering the poor mouse outside the gates. When he had finished cleaning her cuts, he stepped back, rinsing the rag in the pail. The water turned a rusty color from the mouse's blood.

Django tried not to blanch at the sight of blood. It wasn't that he would faint or anything, but, according to him, nothing good could be associated with blood. After a few seconds, he suddenly remembered his staff. It was still outside the gates! He glanced over at Tirael again.

"D'ye think she's a'right?" he asked. He didn't want to just leave the room for his own purposes without checking on the very girl he'd brought into Redwall. And, even though he knew Tirael didn't necessarily need his help, but the spotted mouse didn't want to be rude.

[Tirael]

"D'ye think she's a'right?"

At the moment, Tirael was focusing on carefully tying Selina's footpaw into its cast; it took him a moment to give enough attention to actually respond. "Not yet, but she will be," he answered simply. Gently lifting the mousemaid's leg so as to tie another bandage around it, he added, "If she rests, she'll heal up fine. Though it'll be a little while before she can walk normally again." Glancing up at Django, he realized the question hadn't merely been made out of curiosity--he looked distracted, as though he was suddenly less concerned about being here.

It seemed odd in contrast to the mouse's previous fervor to help, but Tirael figured he'd done well enough anyway and probably had other matters to attend to. Like sleeping. At this time of night, that was a very likely matter of concern. Well, I guess it's not really his job to stay for the entire thing, he thought to himself. Offering Django a reassuring smile, he said, "You've done well. Thanks for your help."

[Django]

"Not yet, but she will be," he answered simply. Gently lifting the mousemaid's leg so as to tie another bandage around it, he added, "If she rests, she'll heal up fine. Though it'll be a little while before she can walk normally again."

Django relaxed slightly at the healer's diagnosis. The entire time the otter was speaking, however, the mouse had been unconsciously backing towards the infirmary door. When he realized where he was, his paw was practically on the doorknob. Apparently, his staff was higher priority than he'd thought he'd made it. To make up for this selfish thinking, he made a vow to visit the mousemaid first thing in the morning.

"You've done well. Thanks for your help."

Django returned the smile, somewhat sheepishly, and replied, "If ye need anythin' else, jus' ask me." With that, he darted from the room. It took him mere moments to reach the abbey grounds again. He hesitated, remembering the voice that had come seemingly out of thin air, alerting him of the girl outside the gates. Though no vermin raiders had invaded Redwall, the owner of the voice could still be hostile.

As stealthily as possible, he made his way to the smaller wicker gate at the south wall of the abbey. No sense opening the big doors when all he had to get was his staff. He ran out into the moonlit night and retrieved the prized weapon from the dusty ground. Standing in the middle of the path for a few moments, he scanned his surroundings. He heard the usual sounds of the night: crickets chirping, owls hooting, and the rustling of unknown creatures. Nothing else struck him as out of the ordinary.

He returned to the abbey and locked the wicker gate securely behind him. Then he made sure the big oaken gates were firmly bolted. Making his way back to his room, it wasn't until he dropped onto his bed that he realized he would never fall back asleep. He was much too wound up from the events of the night thus far. The spotted mouse lay on his bed, gazing up at the ceiling. His mind wandered over this and that, everything and nothing.

The next thing he knew, it was morning.

((Feel free to take it from here, Tir. [or Ivy]))

[Ivyrose]

Selina blinked open her eyes. Bright morning sunlight filtered through a nearby window, turning the room golden. As quickly as she had opened them, she shut her eyes tightly. Yet, she was compelled to open her eyes again. Slowly, the young mouse opened her eyes. Accustoming herself to the brightness first, Selina opened her eyes all the way.

The room was neat and tidy, filled with healing supplies. Selina shifted, trying to move in a upright position. Pain shot up her leg as she shifted. Wincing, she gazed around the room again. A rattling noise made her snap her head around. Ignoring the pain from her leg, Selina stared wide-eyed in the direction of the noise.

((Eh... Not the longest post in the world.... Also, what is the posting order for this thread? For now, I'm going to wait for Tir to post.))

[Django]

Django stretched his lean arms high over his head as he entered the infirmary, the rattling sound having come from his opening the door. He smiled at the girl as he walked in, stifling a yawn.

"Mornin', Miss," he greeted cheerfully. "I hope I'd didn't frighten ye." Judging by the look on her face, he had at least surprised her. "Jus' thought I'd come to check on ye, seein' as 'ow ye wasn't awake las' night."

He moved to her bedside, still smiling warmly. "Welcome to Redwall Abbey, friend," he chuckled. "I'm Django. Ye can call me Jan fer short." He glanced at her bandaged footpaw and asked, "How're ye feelin'?"

((Mine ain't too long, either.))