Letting it Snow ((open!))

[Wildrun]

((Because the weather outside my house is darn frightful right now. I played in a thread like this on a warriors site I used to be on, so I thought it'd be fun to start something similar here. Pick any holiday-like song, and make it fit! Have fun! ))

"Ohhh, t'e vetter ootsoide be froightful..."

The snowflakes came down in legions, an entire sky filled with the tiny white soldiers. They hit the ground like kamikaze fighters, piling on top of each other to bury the Abbey. The mole's dark fur was riddled with them, the cold gratings of snow sticking in her hair until the wetness made it spike. Bundled in her bright red scarf, Cavvy almost looked like a shrew.

"But moi foire be zo deloightful..."

She hummed to fil in the words she didn't know. Between the folds of soft fabric, her kindly eyes twinkled. A smle wrikled her face as she trudged through the thick snow along the ramparts. Her breath made a fog in front of her face, quickly whisked away by the chilly breeze.

"Thur's allus sum place to go..."

Cavvy paused, tipping her head to one side as she gazed out over Mossflower Wood. The birds and insects were silent--none of them wanted to step out into this weather. Fat, bloated snowflakes plummeted, clinging to the trees and coating everything in a heavy winter coat.

"Oi 'ope it snows, 'ope it snows, 'ope it snows..."

Wish granted. The sounds faded on Cavvy's lips, and for a moment she was silent. The only sound was her breathing and the small sound of snow falling from the branches of a tree somewhere. A long minute dragged past, serene lonliness washing over the mole. Until...

"Oof!"

Cavvy turned, then smiled at Oaklea Wildrun, a mousmaid who had just fallen face-first into the snow. Her head had vanished into the cold depths. "Gemme outta here! Brrr!"

Cavvy chuckled and gave the mousmaid a hand. Her digging claws worked as well on the thick snow as in any dirt, and in another second Oaklea was attempting to shake the white from her black fur.

She clamped her teeth together to stop them from chattering and shook Cavvy's paw warmly. "Th-thanks, Miss. I fer-forgot m-my coat, see, an-and it's no fun in kn-knee deep snow." She flashed a wry smile and shivered. "Brrr!"

Cavvy nodded, smiling wider. She'd had little time to know the mousemaid, always having been busy before, but the mle never had trouble making friend. "Hurr, you'm be durn roight, tis no fun, mizz! Burr, 'ere, you'm be needin' moi scarf. Oi've got plenty o' thing on me to keep moiself warm. Take et."

Oaklea grimaced, shaking her head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll get over it soon enough. This is nothing compared to where I'm from. Except we didn't always get so much snow, just cold." She paused, tipping her head to one side in a manner much like the mole's. "...Hey, did you hear that?"

Cavvy crinkled her brows together in an effort of concentration. "...Aye. Wot be et?"

Somewhere in Mossflower Woods, a hare was singing boistrously.

"Faaaannnngyyy, the weasel!
Wot a jolly, 'appy beast!
Wit' 'is blue-black fur and 'is tail, yes sir,
'e was 'eading to a feast!
Faaaanngy, the weasel!
'E's a vermin, so they say!
But 'ol Swing here knows
'E's a decent soul,
Jus' the same as you 'n meeee!
Faaaangy, the weasel!..."

The song continued, Swing making up the words as he went along. He couldn't see his weasel accquantice, Fang, anywhere in the thick snow. In fact, it'd been several days since the hare had run into him last. No matter, though. Swing could turn anything into a song as he marched a quickly as he could manage through the packed flakes. On the ramparts of Redwall Abbey, Oaklea grinned and took a moment to compose her own song. After a second of thinking, her grinn widened, and she took a deep breath. Usually, the mousemaid wouldn't dare to sing in front of another on her own, but the snow was beautiful, and Cavvy seemed friendly enough. She sang out in a nice alto voice, gaining energy as she went along.

"There musta been a trifle
with that old sled that Swing found,
for when I took it out to eat,
he began to dance around!
Faaaanngyy, the weasel,
is tolerant to a fault!
'Cause we love to sing
and let our voices ring,
We're never gonna halt!"

Cavvy chuckled. She had no idea wheo Swing or Fang was, an to be honest, Oaklea didn't either, but they could both tell a hare when they heard one. The noise would draw other Abbey-beasts and forest dwellers into the racket, as the snow conitued to fall.

((Sorry to pick on Fang. It's all I could think of off the top of my head.

Go nuts!))

[Glavon]

It was a normal freezing cold winter day.

The snowflakes fell gently over the dark, drab landscape of Mossflower, covering everything in a cold white powder that made the black-furred beasts of the woodlands stand out. Fang Bluefur the weasel was no exception.

And unfortunately, thorns didn't disappear during the winter.

"Ow...OW!" the weasel growled as he pushed through the thick wall of thorns and brambles and an annoying song caught his ears.

Faaaannnngyyy, the weasel!
Wot a jolly, 'appy beast!
Wit' 'is blue-black fur and 'is tail, yes sir,
'e was 'eading to a feast!
Faaaanngy, the weasel!
'E's a vermin, so they say!
But 'ol Swing here knows
'E's a decent soul,
Jus' the same as you 'n meeee!
Faaaangy, the weasel!...

Fang pricked his ears. "Swing?" he shouted out.

((Bad post zone declared!)

[Wildrun]

The hare froze (almot literally), one foot in the air to jump over a snow-laden log and the other stuck in a steep back. Unknown to him, the situation would not have turned out well had he actually attempted to jump the log. Who likes snow up their nose?

"Er....Faaaaannggggy, the weasel!
'E's somewhere real close by,
So I'd better move
Through this bloody snow,
So I can go say hiiiii!"

Wailing out the words even louder than he had before, Swing turned on his buried paw and struck off away from the taunting log. With a nose still unfrozen, he flapped his ears, waiting for some reply.

On the ramparts, Oaklea giggled. "Haha, I hope the two of them start a duet!" Cavvy chuckled, musing over who she herself could join in the merriment.