Picnic in a Quarry (Open/Glavon)

[Wildrun]

The sharpness of the against the brilliantly blue sky was almost painful to the traveller as he paused. Shoulders slumping, he looked around with an expression of the most pathetic kind on his face. Spotting a shaded tree, he let out a breath of resignation and flopped to the ground under it's spread.

The hare groaned, rubbing his stomach, and looked forlornly first at his deflated travelling sack and then through the leaves above him to the empty sky.

"As empty as me stomach," Swing whimpered. He allowed himself a dramtic groan of self pity and wished fervently someone was around to watch his performance. "I'm so blinking tired, wot! A chap can't go so far as I did without food, or tucker, or vittles, or any of the above! Mmm, all of the above, please..." Sighing, he settled his paws across his stomach and lay there, contemplating the drop of sandstone to his left. Having no audience and no other complaints ("Aside from me achin' footpaws!"), he diverted his attention to the large pit of pink stone before him. Swing muttered to himself, "A quarry way out in the middle o' the bally woods. Must be a big pink house nearby, wot?"

A big pink house. The hare's ears stood straight up, quivering at the idea. Could he possibly be near--Redwall Abbey! Yes, if he listened, he could just make out the faintest gongs of bells...

...the young hare sat very still, straining to determine from which direction the peals came as they ended. Sadly, he had lost his map smewhere along the way and had very little idea of where he was. "Hmm, be nice if there was some other beast about to ask directions from--"

No sooner had he told imself this than he waso n his paws, hands cupped about his mouth as he called out, "Halloo? Anybody about?"

[Glavon]

Fang was on a mission.

Well, he'd assigned it at least, and that made it a mission in his book. Destination? Redwall Abbey, famed home of Martin the Warrior, and all of that other nonsense. Fang snorted, his black fur giving slight movement in the slightly cold wind that the north was blowing in, as he comtemplated his form knocking at stiff timber gates. The Abbey creatures were hardly likely to let a ragged weasel with blue streaked fur anywhere near their walls. He fingered his sword and moved on.

It was only a few minutes later his sharp ears caught the hint of sound. Fang ducked and crawled forward, then peeked out of the leafy brush he was crouched in.

A hare lay lesurely against a tree, rubbing his stomach. Fang's expression grew more carefully neutral; he didn't want the beast to hear him laughing out loud at the fact that hares' stomachs were bigger that their heads. Luckily, the weasel just stopped himself from chuckling, much less laughing.

The very faint sound of bells reached Fang, and the hare's ears stood up as Fang realized he was getting closer to Redwall.

The hare muttered something to himself, then, cupping his paws around his mouth, yelped, Halloo? Anybody about?

Fang put a paw to his forehead. He wasn't going to just announce his presance; who did the hare think he was? By mistake, he shifted, releasing a sound like crackling leaves. Fang paused, then went limp, sprawling across the leaves. If he acted like he was unconcious, the hare would probably still find him, and he could hear what the hare was saying. Yes, this would work. Fang slowed his breathing and lay quite still, waiting for the hare to find him.

[Wildrun]

The sharp snap of early fallen leaves crackling brought the hare's head around to stare at the spot in the bushes. Eyebrows raised and flopped-over ear making him look comically bemused, Swing waited. A moment of no further movement was enough to arouse his curiosity. Stealthily, visions of howling bandits springing to his bored mind's eye, he crept forward and peaked through a spot in the foliage to view it's inhabitant.

"I say. You must be tired, wot?"

He didn't honestly expect the weasel to answer--if he thought that he could stay unconscious, let him. As silly as he could be, Swing wasn't fool enough to think this beast could be asleep when fallen leaves proved otherwise. He smiled to himself and plunked down near the weasel and leaned back, putting his paws behind his head and whistling patiently. "Ye can lay there lyin' on the ground as much as ye like, old chap, but ye'll have to move sometime, and I've got no other appointment for the day." Having thus said so, Swing settled in to wait, wondering how stubborn this weasel would be.

After a minute or so, the hare decided he might as well have some premise for a conversation, whether he would have an answer or not. "So, are ye' travelin' to Redwall Abbey?"

[Glavon]

Ye can lay there lyin' on the ground as much as ye like, old chap, but ye'll have to move sometime, and I've got no other appointment for the day. the hare said, making Fang slightly annoyed.

After about twenty minutes, Fang decided there was no point in acting as though he was asleep and twitched one obsidian eye open a crack, only enough that he could see blurrily, but the hare wouldn't notice it against the backdrop of inky fur. Finally, after a survey of the situation, Fang's muzzle twitched slightly and he sat up, black eyes dull and devoid of emotion as they stared at the hare.

So, are ye' travelin' to Redwall Abbey? the hare had said twenty minutes earlier. Fang's paw went unseen to rest upon his sword's hilt, and he looked at the hare quietly for several minutes. A bird chirped in the tree above the weasel's head, and Fang didn't flinch, but decided to reply.

"Maybe." he stated, his voice quiet, cold, and suspicious. His blue streaked muzzle twitched again. He would not give the hare anymore answer than that. See where it got him.

[Wildrun]

The pleasantly buzzing heat of the day and the swish of a lazy breeze let Swing relax his shoulders, close his eyes, exhale slowly...his blue eyes flickered open casually and blinked twice, pondering, at the leaves above him before he decided to say something else. The reply had been noncommital and noncompliant, but the hare was too calm to feel riled.

He looked at the weasel coyly out the corner of his eye before flicking them back to the sky. "...Maybe ye' could tell me what direction those bell were coming from as well, eh? I lost me map somewhere before gettin' here."

No sooner had the words left his mouth then he suddenly gave the weasel his full attention, scrutinizing him closely. A moment passed. Two. Then, "I say, are you travelin' alone? D'ya have any food?" Dearly hoping the weasel was willing to respond in the positive, the one-track hare was already scrambling to his feet. "C'mon, wot, we can make a lunch! Ha!"

[Glavon]

...Maybe ye' could tell me what direction those bell were coming from as well, eh? I lost me map somewhere before gettin' here.

The hare looked like one who could have gotten angry at Fang's noncommital answer, but it's fur obviously wasn't ruffled. Fang rummaged away in a small package in his belt to remove a smushed and beaten map, which he shook out and examined closely before handing it without a sound to the hare. Fang flicked his tail.

"I got this from a mouse. Take a look." he said, yawning as he pointed out Redwall's location. "From the east." he added, meaning the direction of Redwall.

A few seconds passed.

I say, are you travelin' alone? D'ya have any food? C'mon, wot, we can make a lunch! Ha!

Fang rolled his eyes to heaven; trust a hare to only be thinking of food. The mouse he'd met had also generously given the weasel a pack of supplies. Fang nodded wearily.

"All right, fine."

He walked out to the clearing and sat down to begin opening the sack.

[Wildrun]

Taking the map, Swing mentally noted the weasel's choice of words--he'd gotten the map from a mouse. Briefly wondering if it would be wise to ask if he had stolen it from a mouse, but the aroma of food floated to his nose...

Before he knew it, he was beside the weasel, leaning eagerly across him to peer at the insides of the sack. Smiling broadly and twitching his ears, he laid the map at his side and patted it. As he did so, he remembered what he had been about to ask.

"A mouse, eh? I might've run into him. 'E tell you why he gave you the map, 'xactly?"

The grin was still fixed in place, and he sniffed delicatley, as if food was the only thing on his mind. His inquiry was not exactly subtle, but he wanted an answer. Deep in his gut, he wanted to not be plagued by suspicions of this weasel--he did need the food, after all. Years of being wary of weasels, stoats, foxes, ferrets, rats...even a hungry hare finds it hard to cast these habits off.

[Glavon]

Fang's paws dug through the sack, finding vials of cordial, oatcakes and honey, and various other delicacies. Fang made a mental note to find the mouse and thank him when he had some food or other vital substance to give to him. The hare leaned across Fang to look eagerly into the sack as the weasel dug out more food and drink. Then the hare leaned back, patting Fang's map.

A mouse, eh? I might've run into him. 'E tell you why he gave you the map, 'xactly?

Fang's bright obsidian eyes narrowed. Did the hare think him a thief? A murderer? The weasel scowled, then smoothed out his expression in the blink of an eye.

"Met it farther back across the river. He was nice enough to give me food and shelter."

(short post -.-)

[Wildrun]

If Swing hadn't been watching his newfound companion closely, he would not have caught the nanosecond curling of the lip and narrowed dark eyes. Resisting the urge to nod in satisfaction, the hare took an oatcake and leaned back. No liar could wipe off emotion so quickly.

He raised an eyebrow, grin from before now genuine. "Suppose I didn't see 'im, then. Wish I had, wot!" Nibbling on the edge of the oatcake and trying not to look hopeful, Swing added in an overly casual voice, "You don't happen to 'ave any cheese with you, wot?"

He had gone two days without biting into his last crumb of cheese, and had only devoured it along with the rest of his water that morning. He wasn't asking for luxury, was he? Just a piece of good yellow cheese! The drooping of his ears was almost comical.

(('Sokay. Me too. D: ))

[Glavon]

Fang took out a vial of honey to pour on the oatcakes.

He sensed that the hare believed him now-that was good, he had been telling the truth. With a flick of his paw, he removed pasties from the pack.

Suppose I didn't see 'im, then. Wish I had, wot!the hare said somewhat jovially, and Fang nodded swiftly. A few seconds of silence passed.

You don't happen to 'ave any cheese with you, wot? the hare asked hopefully, it seemed to Fang. He rolled his eyes again and pulled out two wedges of yellow cheese.

(Sorry, I have to go, next post'll be long)

[Wildrun]

((Sorry for the wait.))

The distinct lessening of tension would have proved signifigant to the hare, had the sight of yellow cheese appearing within reach not distracted him from deeper thoughts.

Swing's eyes lit up and he reached out eagerly with both paws. Only at the last second, remembering his manners, did he retrain imself and grab only one of the wedges. He inhaled deeply, sighing with delight. Taking a dainty nibble, he swallowed and then took a bigger bite. And another. And another, until within seconds the cheese was nearly gone. Whiskers twitching with the conundrum to save, or to eat, the hare was silent for a few anxious seconds.

Then, suddenly, he snapped his head up to scruntinized Fang, frowning pensively. He tipped his head to one side, his flopped-over ear bending the opposite direction. The cheese lay unfinished in his hands.

A moment of nothing but breathing passed. Seeming to come to a descision, Swing nodded curtly. "Right, then. If we're going to Redwall Abbey, we'd better get moving, eh?" He stood up, tucking the miniscule portion of cheese into a secure inner pocket of his traveling bag. He held out a paw to Fang, ready to go. "I hope you won't mind travelin' with me, wot. One's the lonliest number and all that, y'know? And I haven't told ye my name yet, have I?" He flipped his ears up and down as if waving. "Swingshard K. McVoolren, of the highland McVoolrens, current soldier-on-probation of the Salmandastron Long Patrol. Nice to meet ye', wot."

He hadn't even asked if the weasel if he was indeed traveling to the Abbey, much less given him a choice of company. A hare is hard to deter once an idea enters his head.

[Wildrun]

((Oh Glaaavoonn~...))