An Education [Skipp, Open]

[Tirael]

Birds must be the happiest creatures in the world.

Redwall Abbey was not the sanctuary Tirael had hoped it would be. Since he'd moved in, it had quickly become synonymous with the excessive drama his life had turned into. Whenever he walked through the main building, all he could think of was the onrush of drama that had characterized his life over the past year; the infirmary, in particular, seemed like a magnet for people and events that slowly drove the young otter insane. That Redin, Sleet, and Streamlilly had made themselves scarce (he wasn't sure if they were even still in the Abbey; the two companions had most likely left) barely helped matters. In the eyes of most of those who knew him, the healer was tainted by odd company.

With this in mind, Tirael sought haven from his own home. More than once he'd considered moving into the village forming by Camp Moss, where he could blend in with a larger crowd and not be so bothered by his reputation. But that was very inconvenient; he'd need a place to live, a place to work, he'd be separated from Fern...it wasn't such an easy decision as he'd like to imagine.

So, unwilling to leave the Abbey, and yet still seeking respite, Tirael went to the one place he imagined he'd be entirely alone: the belltower. Grabbing an A History of Mossflower from the library, he retreated up the long spiral staircase, quite out of breath by the time he reached the top.

And that was when he looked outside.

It was like nothing he'd ever seen. He'd only been up here once, and at the time he'd been more focused on his companion; his current solitude, however, allowed him to marvel at the view of Mossflower from above. Tirael gazed out over the grounds, the walls, and the trees in amazement, his book laying forgotten on the sill of one of the tower's enormous windows. Reading could wait.

[[At least until the next post. XP]]

[Treble Tiderunner]

Skipper was looking for his son. Or Fern. Either one would do, but he couldn’t find one and he knew the sorts of places he could find the other. The old otter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck where stiffness lurked. Tirael wasn’t in the orchard, or in the library. He liked solitary places, which left out his infirmary (and anyway, Skipp had already checked) On a whim as he passed by, he turned into the belltower. Climbing the stairs, he made it to the single room at the top, below the bells.

Tirael was inside, looking out at the woods. Skipper leaned on the sill, watching his son and the woods. He longed to be out in them himself. He was considering just plain leaving. He missed Camp Moss, wished he could live in Camp Willow. Anywhere but here behind stone walls. He wanted the freedom he’d fought for.

He noticed the book laying near Tirael and smiled.

[Tirael]

By the time his father arrived, Tirael had discovered how much stronger the breeze was at this altitude. He had also discovered that, when he leaned out to feel it on his face, he became much more aware of his height. At first, it made him feel unsteady; before too long, though, he overcame his nerves and fully enjoyed the wind ruffling his fur. After basking in the sensation for a moment, he decided it would be rude to the book to ignore it any longer, and pulled his head back into the tower.

Picking up his book, Tirael glanced about the room to see where it would be best for him to sit. Before he found a good spot, though, he saw the something lingering in the doorway. He hadn't expected anybeast to be here; needless to say, he was unable to suppress a small jump of surprise. "Oh...Skipp," he said upon realizing just who the visitor was. "Hi."

Now that the little shock was past, it was replaced by confusion. Why was the Skipper up here? He had no duties in the belltower, and with his body all the worse for wear, it wasn't like the older otter climbed endless staircases for the fun of it. (That his father might be looking for him did not occur to the healer.) Tilting his head inquisitively, Tirael asked, "Did you need something up here?"

[Treble Tiderunner]

Skipper nodded towards the vista spread below the window. It was quite a sight from this height, some trees were already patching into yellow and red in harbinger of fall. The wind was blowing and it looked very peaceful. Quite the contrary to what was occurring inside Redwall’s gates. It was always some sort of chaos or another here. He missed life outside. For somebeast who spent the majority of his life underground, he was chafing at spending it behind walls.

“I want to be out there too.” He admitted to his son, coming fully into the room.

"Did you need something up here?"

“Yes. I was looking for ye, Tirs.” The older otter’s head tilted as he considered the book in Tirael’s paw. Now that it was time to say it he found the words coming hard. He’d never found time to learn, even after more than forty years of life. When he saw the books his son and others would read he would have a yearning for simpler times, where he would be able to read such stories for himself and not have to rely on others to do any reading necessary -- or read for the simple pleasure of hearing a story. All the stories he knew were by word of mouth; and he felt his paws itching to turn the pages of a book himself.

“Can… can ye teach me?”

[Tirael]

“I want to be out there too.”

Sighing, Tirael turned his gaze back to the world outside the stone parapets and walls of the Abbey. It didn't surprise him that Skipper wanted to be out there--he'd been fighting for the freedom of Mossflower in general, not just Redwall, and never intended to become an Abbeydweller himself. Tirael had, though, which made it all the more troubling to admit that he was no longer enjoying life here. It felt like over a decade of waiting and working was suddenly pointless.

“Yes. I was looking for ye, Tirs.”

Raising an eyebrow at that, the healer searched his father's face curiously. Skipp wasn't looking at him, not directly; following his eyes, Tirael slowly realized what was really interesting the older otter. He never did much reading in front of others--in the time of war, it seemed out of place, and he never felt the need to call attention to himself for it. It was obvious that he was doing it, but he'd figured out of sight, out of mind. Besides, why would he rub in having a skill that many others didn't have the time to learn?

“Can… can ye teach me?”

One raised eyebrow became two arched ones. That wasn't a small request, and Tirael wasn't even certain he could, in good conscience, say yes. After all, he'd never taught, he didn't know how to! And the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint Skipp. But this, he realized, was a chance. A chance to give something back to his father, something meaningful. And if there was even the slightest chance that he could do that, he had to go for it.

"I...well, I can try, at least," he responded finally, a small grin forming on his face. "Umm..." he paused, thinking where best to start such a large task. "...do you know the alphabet?"