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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Oct 27, 2013 21:42:50 GMT -6
It was early morning. Fog wisped through the trees, lending an eerie look to the morning. Pale light filtered through the trees, but the sun was not yet strong enough to burn off the fog. Enon leaned against the broad trunk of the maple she was perched in, several lengths above the forest floor below. She enjoyed the quiet of morning, with naught but the chatter and songs of birds to pierce the silence.
There was still plenty of time left in the day for travel. She could sit here until midmorning, when the fog burned away, if she so chose. After all, she wasn't heading anywhere in particular. She opened her eyes and tilted her head up to watch the leaves. They were turning. It was still early fall, but soon enough they would fall.
The black squirrel turned back to the book in her lap. Its well worn pages had been turned many times, as they would be again. She couldn't afford to carry many things with her, so this was her single book. She turned a page gently, content to sit and enjoy the sun rising as she read.
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Post by Wick Asthedayturns on Oct 27, 2013 22:51:13 GMT -6
Tor made his way about searching for some small berries or anything else edible. Even though it was very early in the morning, he didn't want to stay at the cave. His mentor was still asleep so sneaking out seemed easy. The warrior was getting old and that did cause Tor to worry. His mentor was strong and a good warrior at that, however, everything had a time and it seemed his mentor's time was getting closer.
The old warrior just wasn't one for practice after a long travel. He needed more and more rest now an days. Perhaps they should search for a place for the old warrior to retire? A church of some sort. Yes, a place to remain forever might do the old warrior good and make passing on easier. It sadden the dormouse to think of such a thing, he had grown close to his mentor.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Oct 28, 2013 0:22:25 GMT -6
Enon's paws lay still over the cover of her book, head tilted back once more. She slept, though part of her was still alert. She was too much a warrior, had spent too long with the Long Patrol to have fallen deeply asleep in a strange place. Although she had scouted the night before, there were always dangers in Mossflower. Especially this far from Redwall. So she napped, with the confidence only those born to the trees could possess. She needn't worry about falling.
Eventually noise woke the squirrel. Slowly, her ears rotated to catch and locate the sound. Her eyes opened, she blinked slowly. It wasn't birds, but it wasn't too close yet. But it was coming her way. Enon straightened in her perch, feeling the scratch of bark on her back through her tunic. Her tail flexed out to her side as she adjusted her position, helping her to balance. She peered below, watching silently from the tree as the creature stepped into the small clearing under the massive maple.
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Post by Wick Asthedayturns on Oct 28, 2013 9:16:28 GMT -6
A light sigh left him as he stood there. He so wasn't finding anything that seemed edible. It was Autumn after all, not many things were growing out here in Mossflower woods that would be. His Mentor couldn't eat certain things and one of the most common things to find were acorns. That was another thing with getting old, some creatures couldn't eat certain things anymore.
Taking a seat under a tree, he glanced around. The sword was still strapped to his side as he sat there. A yawn left him as he glanced around.
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Post by Tirael on Oct 31, 2013 1:57:05 GMT -6
It was good to be free...just not quite as good as Tirael had expected.
His indentured servitude to the otter crew had ended just a couple days prior, and he had been quite eager to set out on his own again. And make no mistake: it had been liberating. Finally, he was free from the watchful eyes of his captors, free from making their weapons, or helping them cook (thanks to Jake's presence, that task was particularly unpleasant). Really, he felt he should have run away a lot sooner. And he'd had plenty of chances to--nobody watched him in the middle of the night, and he could easily have sneaked out past the sleeping Treble.
But he hadn't, and that was bothering him.
Like Tor, Tirael was out foraging. He had no dietary limitations, unlike the old warrior, so he was free to take acorns and anything else he saw fit. He'd even found some nice button mushrooms, which he could use to supplement the meager supplies he'd been 'gifted' by the otters. Still, it was more food than he'd had for most of his life--he'd have to be diligent about rationing it.
Making his way through the sparse underbrush autumn had yet to remove entirely, the young river otter halted when he caught sight of something glorious: a hazelnut tree. Hazelnuts were Tirael's absolute favorite food, and stumbling across a veritable treasure trove of them was like a dream come true. The dream turned into a nightmare, however, when he looked at the tree's base and saw some sort of mouse sitting there. The nightmare only worsened when he saw the glint of sunlight off a sword.
Tirael knew he should just turn around and leave. He already had plenty of food, there was no reason to risk contact with some armed mouse just because he happened to be surrounded by hazelnuts. Delicious hazelnuts, which he could put in soup, or--no, it's not worth it! But...this mouse looked reasonably old. Maybe he'd be likely to take pity on a 'poor orphan' simply looking to pick up some measly nuts. So, taking a moment to gather himself and put on his best 'pitiful' face, the otter stepped out of hiding.
Glancing over at Tor, Tirael pretended to be startled, as though he'd just seen the mouse now. "O-oh," he stammered, "Are...is this your tree? It's just, these nuts look good, and I'm so hungry..." The question was coupled with the most adorably sad eyes the river otter could muster, either staring hopefully at Tor or hungrily at the scattered hazelnuts. The hunger, he didn't have to fake--just being here, surrounded by his favorite food, was making him peckish. Hopefully this little charade wouldn't last long so he could get on with his life. And eat.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Nov 3, 2013 22:30:34 GMT -6
The dormouse settled underneath a hickory tree across the clearing, seeming content to sit there and relax, much as Enon herself was. The squirrel settled back against the trunk of her tree, spreading the book open on her lap once more. She didn’t feel any particular need to be sociable, and didn’t plan on announcing her presence. Solitude, so rare among her fellows in the Patrol, was a treasured gift. She could share her clearing with the mouse, after all, when the sun reached a little higher and burned all the fog away (as it would before midday) she planned on being on the road again.
"O-oh," he stammered, "Are...is this your tree? It's just, these nuts look good, and I'm so hungry..."
Enon glanced up from her book, peering through the branches surrounding her to see a newcomer. An otter, young by the looks of him, gazing longingly at the hazelnuts. Well, and who could blame him? She was quite partial to the nuts herself.
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Post by Wick Asthedayturns on Nov 9, 2013 20:56:06 GMT -6
"It's not my tree...who owns a tree?" Tor answered.
He honestly never thought that someone would ask him that. It was wierd in his mind but considering he thought more like a warrior in training. Many things weren't his area of knowledge.
OOC: I'm sorry but, I have no idea on how to reply to this. The whole thing just had me confused. Sorry for the awful and short post.)
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Post by Tirael on Nov 10, 2013 18:57:12 GMT -6
"It's not my tree...who owns a tree?"
Tirael blinked, forcing himself not to frown at the response. On the very odd occasion that he'd been forced to resort to the 'look at me, I'm so cute and helpless' charade, it always resulted in simpering pity, and therefore, in the otter getting at least some of what he wanted. Tor, on the other hand, didn't seem to care. At all. And while Tirael at least assumed he could take that as permission to gather nuts, it still threw him off.
"I-I don't...okay?" he blurted, the stammering being genuine this time. The response had somehow made him more wary of Tor (it almost sounded as though the mouse were annoyed that he was there), so he made sure not to turn his back to him as he began to gather nuts. Each time he stooped to pick up a hazelnut, though, Tirael felt the fur on the nape of his neck rise. This wasn't being caused by Tor, he knew that well enough.
Something else must be nearby.
"Uh..." Tirael murmured to Tor, glancing around with slightly fearful eyes. "Is there someone else here?"
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