Peaceful Climes (Shor)

[Treble Tiderunner]

It was time for the hullaballoo. Tampa was excited, she’d never been to something like this before, and she looked forward to the change of scenery. The older otters had directed “young Skipp” and his crew in the finer details, but the greater part of the festivities had been morphed into a celebration by all, a celebration of freedom. It was a year later, Redwalll was flourishing, and invitations had gone out across the land, inviting any and all creatures. Couriers had even found their way to Salamandastron, their new-found ally, and one squirrel had even taken it upon himself to travel south, in search of old friends who had travelled to Southsward last fall.

Now the wooden buildings of Mosstown were accompanied by many tents, sprung up around the large clearing like large mushrooms. The underground caverns teemed with life, and otters strode the halls of Camp Willow once more.

But Tampa found one dark spot on her day, and she scowled at it. Some beast had handed her a flyer, and she had no idea what to do with it, there wasn’t a single picture on the paper, only bright inked words that scrawled irregularly on the page. Was it important? She hoped not. She couldn’t read it.

[Shor]

So, this was the Hullabaloo. It smelled great. There was definitely food somewhere, and Lachlan intended to find it. But sometime during the first three steps toward the scent, he lost focus. Everything was just so fascinating; the smells, the sights, the otters, the noise, the Tampa...

The big otter was staring over her shoulder at the flyer. After a while, he reached around, took the paper in his paw, turned it a full 180 degrees, and gently placed it back into Tampa's paws. He waited till she had turned around to begin chuckling.

When he had finished, Lachie offered a big paw in greeting.
"Yore welcome." The chuckling continued.

[Treble Tiderunner]

A paw reached over her shoulder, slipping the paper from her paws and turning it around before returning it to her. She took the paper, not seeing how turning the paper might change anything. She turned around, spinning more quickly as she heard him start to chuckle. Tampa narrowed her eyes at Lachlan, suspicion on her face.

“Wots so funny?” She asked, having a feeling that he was making fun of her.

"Yore welcome." The chuckling continued.

The laughter continued, and Tam did what she did best: she made a fist, hauled back, and punched the big otter in the meaty juncture of his shoulder. It wasn’t precisely a tender spot, but after the bruise formed he’d likely be feeling it every time he used that arm.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” She said in a tone that implied she wasn’t feeling any such thing. “Feel free to toddle off and make fun of some other beast.” She challenged, paws down by her sides, her footpaws braced slightly apart. Long habit-- she was equally prepared for counter-attack or retreat by Lachlan. Though she knew it’d probably take a lot more to get rid of this nuisance. Was he still laughing at her?

[Shor]

Indeed, he was. "...Heheh--" He cleared his throat. "h'erm Ah'll stop noo. Sorry, sorry. It's just, uh, didn't know ye cooldn't read. . . Struck me as funny is all--"

"--Anyway!" Lachie changed subjects quickly to avoid more violent behavior. "Ah hae good news, um, well, Ah can do this." He flipped his cane up to rest on his shoulder, standing solidly on both of his footpaws. "Yore brother is an amazin' 'ealer." He smiled at her as though it were in the genetics.

"An' ye," he continued, rubbing his shoulder, "Ah presume, are an amazin' warrior, which leads me tae wonder. . ." He hesitated a bit, apprehensive that this might upset Tampa further. ". . . Wot was the war like for you?" His tone dropped, and his eyes became more intent, more concerned. Lachie knew little about Mossflower to begin with, but aside from that, Tampa interested him, and part of him wanted to know what was so very interesting. She wasn't your typical ottermaid.

[Treble Tiderunner]

Indeed, he was. "...Heheh--" He cleared his throat. "h'erm Ah'll stop noo. Sorry, sorry. It's just, uh, didn't know ye cooldn't read. . . Struck me as funny is all--"

Tampa huffed, a very female show of distaste from one who so shunned things so feminine. Her look softened from an outright glare to one with a lifted eyebrow that seemed much more forbearing and slightly sardonic. Her paws crossed her chest, and her retort was somewhat childish. “Yes, well next time I will endeavour to cut time out of fighting a war to learn such time wasting behaviour.”

"--Anyway!" Lachie changed subjects quickly to avoid more violent behavior. "Ah hae good news, um, well, Ah can do this." He flipped his cane up to rest on his shoulder, standing solidly on both of his footpaws. "Yore brother is an amazin' 'ealer." He smiled at her as though it were in the genetics.

She stared at him, not making the same connection he was. He was obviously proud of something (Deduced because of his idiotic grin) but the connotations were not clear to her. So he had two good legs. She wasn’t sure of what he expected, except that he quite obviously expected her to react somewhat stronger than ‘Oh, I see you can stand on both legs now.’ She kept her silence on the matter.

"An' ye," he continued, rubbing his shoulder, "Ah presume, are an amazin' warrior, which leads me tae wonder. . ." He hesitated a bit, apprehensive that this might upset Tampa further. ". . . Wot was the war like for you?"

Well, and if that wasn't an unexpected question. She stared at him, the emotions behind her eyes running the gamut from challenging to anger, to a caution, to stone-cold pain. Her face seemed frozen. Finally she shook herself, a tiny ripple of fur, a swift laying back of her ears. She turned away, her arms tightening to more of a self embrace. Her words were low and hoarse when they came.

"What was... it was war."