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Post by Otus Shortwing on Jul 2, 2021 16:25:44 GMT -5
OOC: Guess what? This is my 1,000th post on the DAB boards! Can't believe it! I thought I'd celebrate by starting a new RP. This is a minor fetch-quest, which yeah technically is a "quest" but I don't feel the stakes are dire enough for it to be classified formally as "a Quest RP." I'm also not planning as many plot points as would befit a Quest RP. Keeping things simple!Torn Asunder: A DAB Prose RP (Adult characters only)
The familiar sight of Redwall Abbey, a haven of red sandstone, hearty food, and good cheer. Unfortunately, the grounds are currently in shambles. A tremendous storm struck last night, leaving branches strewn throughout the orchard, a muddy river through the garden, a sunken rowboat at the pond, and a shattered window in the Great Hall. When the window broke, falling glass tore into the abbey's prized possession--the tapestry of the great Martin the Warrior.
Efforts to patch up the dear abbey's grounds are already underway. A pair of lithe otters is righting the rowboat and pulling it back to shore. Brothers and Sisters of the order pick up fallen sticks for the Badgermum to haul away in a wheelbarrow. Dibbuns are...well...playing in the muddy garden, and not really helping at all.
And finally, the abbey's dedicated weaver, Old Sister Iris, is setting about repairing the torn tapestry. She opens her highly-organized sewing kit, which she keeps inside a lovely tin that may perhaps have held shortbread at one time, and groans. Nary a scrap of golden thread remains. It's an absolutely necessary color, as the shattered glass ripped through one of the sunbeams illuminating Martin's wise features.
The mouse weaver can only spin more golden thread from the silken strands of the rare Golden Milkweed. She needs at least ten ripe pods. And she knows of only one such place where this plant grows. Mother Abbess agrees that the tapestry must be repaired, even if it means sending somebeasts out to find this milkweed.
Sister Iris draws a map for the party that has volunteered to venture out to find the Golden Milkweed. It grows only in the Mossy Marshes, a boggy location down the Great South Stream. A message has been sent ahead to the Guosim of the South Stream, and the party is to rendezvous with the rowdy group of shrews at the edge of Mossflower Woods. They will take you on the final leg to the Mossy Marshes. But beware, the Guosim have warned you that the river waters are high after the storm. And one of the dibbuns whispers that there have been rumors of a small band of rats roaming the woods of late...
**The band of volunteers has exited the abbey gates and is tromping down the road towards Mossflower Wood. Friends and loved ones wave from the open gate, but already the Abbess is ushering everybeast back inside--there's no need to leave the gate open when there might possibly be rat raiders about. The road is rocky and wet where last night's heavy rain washed the soil away, leaving uneven terrain. The sky is cloudy and grey, hinting that another storm might interrupt their journey.**
**Otus Shortwing swaggers along the roadway, his great yellow eyes squinted sleepily. He was awake all night, of course, and not just from the storm--owls are nocturnal. He was now awake during his normal sleeping period. His grey-brown feathers kept puffing up and then smoothing down, reflective of his grumpy mood. He kicked a pebble out of the way with his slate blue talons.**
S'ppose I should be proud ta be considered fer th' mission, but mostly I'm wishin' we'd waited until dark ta leave. Milkweed this, milkweed that.
**Otus' beak opened wide in a huge yawn, then he closed it with a decisive clack. Looking to his right and left, he took in the scene around him. He saw dear friends, many of whom he'd known since dibbunhood.**
All right, landlubbers, are ya ready ta save th' day?
**He lifted his wings away from his body about halfway, and took off running. With his limp, favoring his right leg, and his characteristic bird-waddle, he really cut quite a figure.**
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Post by Madeline on Sept 3, 2021 14:32:09 GMT -5
**Madeline held her staff nervously in front of her, as if enemies would jump out at them at any moment. The wildcat had volunteered to join as one of the guards, but this was her first excursion outside the Abbey when there was possible danger in the woodlands. Her nerves were a bit on edge. She could only hope the supposed rats were not an advance party sent by her sister (whom she still hadn't told a single soul about).
**The feline tugged her dark green cloak a little more tightly around her as she gazed up at the clouds, her green eyes furrowing in concern. Pulling her hood up over her ears, the black-striped grey cat stepped with sureness over the uneven ground, her lithe form hidden by paler green tunic and pants. The hilt of her sword peeked out of her cloak as it swung at her side; however, she had promised the Abbess that she would only kill if absolutely necessary, so her staff was her main weapon.
**Madeline ignored the owl's ridiculous-looking waddle (being quite used to it by now) and instead looked at the road ahead of them, leading South.** "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be, although if the Friar had packed any more provisions into my haversack, I probably wouldn't be able to carry it." **South. Madeline had come from the South when she was rescued from her old family all those seasons ago when she was a kitten. She had heard rumours recently that her sister was still alive, waiting for her chance to conquer, murder, and enslave. She could only hope she and her friends wouldn't meet her any time soon.
**The wildcat tried to hide her nervousness, and the worry her secret forced her to carry. But anybeast who knew her would probably see it.**
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justcog
Active Dibbun
Posts: 63
Main: Stanwick the Repentant
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Post by justcog on Sept 29, 2021 20:34:39 GMT -5
**This was Stanwick's first time out from the abbey, or at least first time since he first arrived. Unlike almost any other beast there, Stanwick was a somewhat unfamiliar face, only having arrived a little under a year ago, and under undesirable circumstances. However, even still despite his crude introduction to the abbey, he was quick to change his attitude and try to return the many favors the abbey had done for him. Such as now.**
**The Ferret walked a small distance behind the owl, his sword on his hip and his shield cast over his shoulder on his back. He was a taller individual, at least compared to others of his kin, and no helpless dibbun either. Wearing a shirt of chainmail over his tunic, each step he took was met with a light metallic "shing" as it shifted with each movement**
"I hope one of you know what it is we're looking for; never did learn how to identify all the different plants." **Stanwick said out loud, though it appeared he was speaking moreso to himself than anyone else. He shifted his attention to the right, eying up the feline that walked beside him and her apparent nervous nature**
"There's no need to keep your weapon out; you'll only tire your arm." **Stanwick advised to her before returning his attention forwards to the path ahead, following the owl up ahead. He did his best to be approachable, but given both his personal reputation as someone who originally intended to harm Redwall, as well as the reputation of ferrets in general, it'd make sense for anybeast to be wary of him.**
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Crystal M. V. Rosepaw
Loyal Dibbun
Even if I am inactive, if you need to contact me, messaging me will send me an email! :)
Posts: 439
Main: Crystal Rosepaw
Alt 1: Rikian Zarooah
Alt 2: Kaede Dawnshadow
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Post by Crystal M. V. Rosepaw on Sept 30, 2021 15:28:18 GMT -5
**Being back at the Abbey was both a cause great relief and also great anxiety.
Rikian had once fled the Abbey to find solace for his old grief, but made occasional trips back, feeling a sense of duty to keep up appearances. Every time he could spot the ancient red sandstone walls over the treeline, the strange mix of emotions returned; guilt, love, shame, peace, and... other things he could not place. Had only he been one of the more studious beasts in his youth, perhaps he could have found the words for how he felt about his old former home, but he had left such seeming frivolities to the other Abbeybeasts.
This time, though, when he had arrived, it had been with more relief than normal. Alexander, the adopted son he adored (yet another emotion he felt inadequate with words to describe), had overheard his father making plans to visit the Abbey and had insisted on making the trip with him. Rikian had been hesitant, knowing than typically peaceful Mossflower sometimes played host to less than savory types who masqueraded as friends, but his captain had pointed out that he himself could fit that description too, to some beasts. And, she had chided, there had been no news of anyone untoward in the area for several seasons; if anything was amiss, surely word would have spread to the seedy ports they frequented. So, a few sunrises after facing both stern faced badger and pleading kitten, the fox had been sent inland with his crew's well wishes as they made repairs to the ship and a purring son gleefully climbing his shoulders, drowning out the sounds of his pawsteps.
A day's travel from the Abbey, Alex's rounds of questions about the legendary locale he had only heard stories of had been suddenly eclipsed by the clap of thunder in the distance. Hoping the storm would take some mercy on the captain and crew he had left behind, Rikian had bundled his son up and made a dash for the shelter of his old home, long sure strides eating up the distance so much that somehow, between the threat of the storm and the frightened ball of fluff in his arms, he didn't have time to wonder about the the mystery feeling. However, he was still relieved that Alex and the storm both meant that the Abbeybeasts didn't have too much chance to dote over him; every return was a trial of quick wit, a precarious balancing act. Old familiar faces who seemed happy to see him left him wondering how joyous they would be if he let slip too much information, that the sweet community-raised little merchants'-son dibbun he had once been had grown up to forsake Redwall's esteemed values and become... A seafarer, if he was being charitable. If he was viewing it through the lens he was sure the Abbess would, well... a pirate.
And so, it was with mild confusion that Rikian Zarooah found himself standing at the gates not to return home, but to instead run an errand for one of the sisters.**
Ah, y' 'ave to be a good liddle'un, Alex, **Rikian found himself saying, trying to sound serious, though even he could admit that the effect was probably diminished by the way he pulled the kitten's hat away to ruffle the downy fur between his ears.**
And you, **Alex replied, clearly resisting the urge to shy away from the offending paw with a sense of charismatic dignity,** gotta come back soon!
Huh, ain't'cha the one tellin' me tha' I gotta go with 'em?
Yeah, but! That's cause Miss Mother Abbess says she asked the Goo-sum boat shrews to let you use their little ships, and what if they need help? Nobeast is a better sailor than my dad! **The kitten beamed, whiskers twitching, for just a moment, before the thought apparently continued. Winning smile still in place, his tail twitched mischievously.** 'Cept maybe the captain...
**Rikian scoffed, replacing Alex's hat with a playfully wounded flourish. As the little cat started giggling, the fox scooped him up, whirling with him a few times amidst gleeful laughter, before handing his son off to a nearby soft-eyed, smiling squirrel who had offered to help keep an eye on him while his father was away on the Abbey's errand.** S'ppose ya migh' be righ' 'bout the sailin', pun'kin. An' I'll make ya a deal; I'll be back 'ere quick, so long as you're well be'aved! Not stayin' up too late, no knickin' extra grub, an' mindin' manners!
I always mind my manners! **Alex's huffy indignance, however, quickly evaporated into concern.** Promise you'll be careful? Some beasts were saying there's mean beasts where you're going.
Course I will be, promise. **With one last hug, Rikian stepped back, letting the squirrel and her charge step back into the throng of beasts seeing off the volunteers. As the fox stepped away to join the little band, he could spot the sand-colored kitten wriggle free of his guardian to stand towards the front of the crowd, bouncing and waving goodbye with both paws stretched as high in the air as his small stature would allow, carefully keeping his excited hops angled out of the puddles.
Rikian wished he could have brought Alex with him - it wasn't often they were separated, and the idea of being away made something in his chest feel tight - but... The kitten had been right. He, too, had overheard the crowd of dibbuns whispering about a rumor of the band of rats gathering to the south. He waved back to his son, lagging behind slightly to keep the little cat in his view if for only a few moments more, then turned to catch up to the party, trying and failing to contain a small sigh.
The dogfox quickly went about his mental checklist, attempting to calm the unease leaving Alex had placed upon him; with sure paws, he tapped both the worn old rapier hanging from one hip and the ornamental dagger stowed at the other, adjusted the pack the Abbeybeasts had gladly restocked for him on his back, and brushed at the knee of his dark breeches to rid them of some of the muck they had gained while he had crouched to talk to Alex. He hadn't had time to wash the grime form both the sea and travel from his bright pelt, and he ran blunted claws through the fur at the neck of his vest self consciously.**
All right, landlubbers, are ya ready ta save th' day?**Otus's voice, though a bit tired, was as cheerful and loud as Rikian had remembered. He glanced passively at the owl's gait, but it didn't spark his interest; the owl was far from the only beast he had met who had had a difficult recovery from an injury. Instead, he just quickened his pace to keep up, gamely ignoring the squish of muddy pebbles between the pads of his footpaws, wishing not for the first time that he was back on his ship.**
Lan'lubber yourself, Otus, ya ol' featherface! Gonna tire yourself out 'fore we even get goin' at that rate.
**As he took longer strides to catch up to the little owl, Rikian passed Madeline, looking anxious as she tried to hide inside her cloak, and the ferret on the other side of her. The cat was a familiar face to him, but the ferret was not, and from the scent of metal polish on his armor, he could guess why. Armed and armored beasts were a rarity inside Redwall's gates, leaving a question as to why he was there that Rikian had gotten no answer to. Suddenly, the fox was a bit more at ease about leaving Alex behind; if the mysterious ferret was outside the Abbey with him, it meant he wasn't inside the walls with the kitten.**
I hope one of you know what it is we're looking for; never did learn how to identify all the different plants.
Mm,**the fox grunted in agreement, wishing Crystal had been at the Abbey to send in his place, sure that his old bookish friend would have been able to start naming off trivia about the flower in question.** Hopin' Madeline or Otus was payin' 'ttention t' that bit.
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Post by Otus Shortwing on Oct 2, 2021 20:30:10 GMT -5
Lan'lubber yourself, Otus, ya ol' featherface! Gonna tire yourself out 'fore we even get goin' at that rate.
**Otus cackled and waved his tail feathers at Rikian. That fox! Back again to Redwall after all this time. Where Otus sometimes felt the call of the streams and rivers of Mossflower, from his impressionable weeks as a newly-hatched owlet traveling with the Guosim, Otus knew that Riki felt the call of the sea deep in his ruddy-furred chest. An ache that must be answered, now and again, no matter how much they might love the abbey.**
Ahoy, Riki, saw ye kissin' an' huggin' on yer little dibbun there! I reckon yer goin' soft in yer old age, aye!
**Despite Otus' loud and brash demeanor, his head swiveled to listen to Madeline's much softer voice as it floated to him. They'd been dibbuns together, seasons ago, and Otus was always ready to listen to another former DAB member. She hadn't seen much, Otus reckoned, sweet and innocent as they come.**
I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be, although if the Friar had packed any more provisions into my haversack, I probably wouldn't be able to carry it.
**Otus chortled at that, his head thrown back to the uncomfortably bright sky.**
Vittles, me darlin' Madeline, vittles is th' ticket t' any journey!
**Not far from Madeline came the far less familiar voice of Stanwick, the ferret. Now, Stanwick had certainly not been a member of the esteemed Dibbuns Against Bedtime, because Stanwick had not been a dibbun in the abbey. He had, in fact, only arrived a few seasons ago, maybe three or four, if Otus' count was right--and it often wasn't. Stanwick's voice didn't set Otus on edge, per se, because not much ruffled the owl's feathers. But he did feel, perhaps, maybe, just a little, just the tiniest bit disquieted. Still, the ferret had not yet done anything to warrant suspicion since he'd awoken from a fevered haze after being wounded. And Otus had been watching. Oh yes. The nocturnal owl always made nightly rounds of his beloved abbey, and every time he checked, Stanwick had been asleep in bed. This wasn't unfair treatment! Otus checked on plenty of otherbeasts! Such as...oh, well...umm...surely there was somebeast else Otus checked on. He just couldn't think of whom.**
I hope **Stanwick was saying.** One of you know what it is we're looking for; never did learn how to identify all the different plants.
**Riki piped in,** Hopin' Madeline or Otus was payin' 'ttention t' that bit.
I weren't. **Otus said, in blunt and unabashed honesty.** But th' good sister knowed I don't listen to nobeast so early in th' morning, and she drew me...
**Here Otus had to stop speaking so he could use his slate-blue beak to reach into the small bag slung over one wing, which bumped on his opposite side. The unobtrusive sack, hardly big enough to hold anything more than a few apples, was at least light enough that he could still fly with it. Its size did mean that most of the provisions Otus might have carried had he been a squirrel, or a sturdy otter, or even a mouse, were instead distributed between his other party members. From this bag he pulled a rolled-up sheet of parchment, which he proffered to Riki. Otus finished speaking in a strange slur, voice muffled by the parchment.**
She dwoo me a pickter of da mewkweed.
**Should Riki accept the parchment, which, luckily, would not be wet--as birds do not salivate quite so much as otherbeasts--he might find a delicate sketch of a tall, upright plant, whose parts were drawn in greater detail around it: wide, long, dagger-like leaves; a compound flower, arranged in a globe shape, with each individual flower having five petals, like a star a dibbun might draw with forbidden paint on the wall; pods like an owl's flight feather, that is, rounded at the bottom and tapering up to a gentle point, with a texture of soft plant spikes; and one pod split open, to reveal clusters of flat, teardrop seeds from whose pointed heads rose silken strands. And here on the strands was the only color applied to the parchment: a deep, golden yellow, like Otus' striking eyes or like a sunflower bowing, heavy with seeds, to the sun itself.**
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justcog
Active Dibbun
Posts: 63
Main: Stanwick the Repentant
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Post by justcog on Oct 9, 2021 18:41:53 GMT -5
(just posting since it's been a week, sorry if this messes up the turn order)
**Stanwick's footfalls, or paw-falls rather, were heavy, and seemingly uncaring for the amount of muck and mud that soon came to cling to his lower paws. He knew he could always shake it off later, and they weren't in any danger at the moment! At least he hoped not; he had of course heard rumor of dangerous beasts that may be lurking around. Rats mostly by the sound of it. That was why the ferret came prepared! Armed and Armored! Perhaps a tad overkill for picking flowers, but one was better safe than sorry.**
Mm, Hopin' Madeline or Otus was payin' 'ttention t' that bit.
"I hope so too,-" **The ferret started in response to the dogfox. His voice seemed casual at first, though came to a rather sudden halt at the realization of one VERY important fact. He didn't know anyone's names, at least not up until now. He had prepared to call the dogfox by name when he started speaking, but it only came to mind right then that he hadn't heard it before... nor even seen them in the abbey during his short time there! He had glimpsed Madeline every once in a blue moon, and Otus slightly more often, but this dogfox beside him? Never before**
"Your name escapes me." **The ferret admitted, though without apology**
"I'm Stanwick." **He said evenly, not allowing his voice to falter the slightest bit with his step as he finally introduced himself. Of course, he wasn't speaking only to Rikian, but Madeline and Otus as well. Granted, they might already know his name at this point, but he still felt the need to introduce himself, as well as extend his paw for a shake. Manners were not lost upon the ferret, not completely anyways. At least the ferret was trying to be cordial!**
She dwoo me a pickter of da mewkweed
**Upon hearing Otus speak out more, and even go so far as to produce a parchment with a drawing of what it was they were looking for, Stanwick almost reached for it. He took the step of initiative, as if to close the small gap between himself and Otus and take the parchment before realizing that the parchment wasn't for him. No, it was being offered to the dogfox beside him. Right, he wasn't the one in charge like back in his clan, equal to everyone else here. Still took some getting used to. However, even though he'd then back off a tad and allow Rikian to take the parchment, he couldn't help to try and peer over their shoulder at the drawing**
"It's a very fine drawing..." **The ferret mumbled under his breath, before looking ahead down the path once more, as if he'd somehow immediately spot the very flower he had just seen.****
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Post by Madeline on Oct 9, 2021 20:05:17 GMT -5
**Madeline scowled.** "It's literally a walking stick," **she muttered in response to being chastised for having her weapon out, and she stumped it into the ground and leaned on it as she walked, just to prove her point. She looked up at the sky again, then winced as the sun chose right then to peek out from behind the clouds and blind her. Blinking, the wildcat continued on down the path as her eyes readjusted to not staring at the sun.
**But then her friend Otus stopped and fiddled around with his bag, and she watched him, curious. When he produced his picture in response to the question, Madeline smiled and genuinely relaxed, at least a little.** "Oh, yeah, I asked Sister Iris what the flower looked like and what environment it grows in." **The wildcat pulled her journal out of her pocket and opened it to a page in the middle.** "I had her draw it, then I wrote down everything she said." **The page contained detailed drawings of the plant, as well as smaller drawings of the leaves, flowers, and seed pods. All around the pictures were notes about the plant, where it grew, the dangers of its native environment, when its seeds were ripe to be picked, everything a budding botanist could ask for (and more than what the party needed, probably). The opposite page contained the directions for how to get to the swamp.** "Between what Otus and I have, I'm sure we won't be able to miss it! Our main problem will be getting there."
**The cat smiled at Stanwick and Rikian, deciding to try to be friends more than anything.** "I'm Madeline, by the way. Pleased to meet you! It's good to have some more experienced fighters with us; I've never been in a real battle before, although I have had a lot of training." **Although she had seen a couple real fights when she was a kitten, including the one that ended in her rescue. But the cat didn't let on to the fear those memories welled up within her. She never had, instead stuffing them deep down inside of her. Like she did now, smiling as she looked down at her journal, closing it and putting it back in her pocket. She then held out her paw for a shake, holding her staff in the other. Mission hiding memories accomplished yet again!**
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Post by Otus Shortwing on Jan 21, 2022 23:14:47 GMT -5
It's a very fine drawing... **Stanwick said.**
**Otus bobbed his head all about in agreement. He put the drawing back in his little satchel and patted his wing against it fondly.**
Aye aye, it be!
**Otus leaned with interest over Madeline's little notebook. In his younger years, he might have simply snatched the booklet to get a better look, but now that his talons were long and sharp, he usually tried to avoid handling otherbeasts' paper goods--he usually tore them accidentally.**
Oh, yeah, I asked Sister Iris what the flower looked like and what environment it grows in. I had her draw it, then I wrote down everything she said.
**Otus beckoned to the others to keep them walking along the pathway as they talked.**
Pleased to meet you! It's good to have some more experienced fighters with us; I've never been in a real battle before, although I have had a lot of training.
**With a little puff of feathers and a flutter of wings, Otus very much primped himself up, mistaking the compliment for himself. Yes, yes, this very experienced fighter, who's been in so many battles, he's basically a Badgerlord.**
**The road wended its way into Mossflower Wood, and Otus's enormous yellow eyes seemed to relax a little at being out of the morning sun and into the shadows of the trees.**
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justcog
Active Dibbun
Posts: 63
Main: Stanwick the Repentant
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Post by justcog on Jan 23, 2022 14:00:08 GMT -5
It's literally just a walking stick
"So you say." **Stanwick replied, following with a squint. Walking stick or not, she HAD been brandishing the thing like a weapon! Not that he blamed her really, such a thing could still cause quite some damage if used correctly. With a huff, the ferret would glance off to the side, examining the woodlands. He doubted he'd find this "milkweed", he never was good at identifying plants and whatnot, so he'd leave such a thing to Otus and Madeline. They seemed to know what they were doing! As Madeline produced her own notes on the milkweed, Stanwick would return his attention to her yet again, peering to the notes with mild interest. Again, botany wasn't his thing, but more information never hurt. What was his thing however was combat!**
Pleased to meet you! It's good to have some more experienced fighters with us; I've never been in a real battle before, although I have had a lot of training.
"Training? Ah, that's good; someone else who can hold their own... I hope." **Stanwick replied. He initially sounded cheerful and proud. Not only of himself, but Madeline too; seemed he had a respect for those who could fight, especially in a place as peaceful as Redwall Abbey. Though of course the fact that Madeline hadn't ever really experienced open conflict was... troubling to him to say the least. True conflict was different than your usual sparring session, foe's didn't play fair. No matter though, he was here now to watch her back! With a clearing of his throat, Stanwick would return his attention forward to Otus, marching behind the owl as he was led to Mossflower wood. As the sun became more pronounced, Stanwick couldn't help but admire it. Yes, the sun was pretty no doubt about that, but what did Stanwick choose to focus on? The warmth; even if armored and mostly covered, it was always a pleasant sensation feeling the taste of warmth upon one's fur or feathers. Someone might even catch the weasel closing his eyes, seemingly even in a momentary daze as he just basked in the feeling.**
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Post by Madeline on Jan 25, 2022 18:29:14 GMT -5
**Madeline scowled slightly at Stanwick, but decided to let his comment slide. Instead, she threaded her way down the path, avoiding ruts and puddles in the road. She does notice the weasel closing his eyes to enjoy the sun, but does not judge him for it; rather, she smiles slightly. Everyone enjoys the lovely feeling of warmth.
**The wildcat peers ahead.** "How far do you think it is to the South Stream?" **It's been many seasons since she was anywhere South of Redwall, and that was when she was with her family. A bird happily singing in the distance distracted the cat from such dark memories, and her ears twitched as she instinctively tried to find the bird who had sung.
**As they walked, the cat continued to relax more, enjoying the lovely weather the storm had brought and living in the moment of travelling with her friends. She even managed to smile as a robin in the branches above trilled a high note in song. She picked a flower, whispering to herself as she packed it into her pocket along with her journal. She muttered to herself a little more, then pulled out her journal and a pencil, making some notes and a quick sketch as she walked, staff tucked in her elbow. The ease she did this with suggests that she did this sort of thing often. After a few minutes (and without losing her footing or running into anybeast), she closed her journal and put it and the pencil back into her pocket. Leaning on her staff, she hopped over a puddle and continued on walking as if nothing had happened.**
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