As Luck would have it (Killian and Heinz)

[.:Fawn:.]

A pair of coal-black eyes gazed impassively at the huge, redstone walls of the legendary abbey, his expression quick to melt into one of soft amusement. He'd be getting into that place even if it killed him! Killian, with a small knapsack over his shoulder, his cotton shirt and pants providing just enough cover without causing him to overheat – as being a sable gave him quite a lot of fur, even in summer. This shouldn't be too hard a nut to crack, the con-artist mused, and started down the path for Redwall, his steps light and airy as he strolled on through with the wind. The waistcoat-vest Killian normally wore was far too hot and heavy for a day like this, and he had placed it carefully into his pack – folded, mind you – and had done everything in his power to look as non-intimidating as possible. Of course, much of that would come from his natural looks, as Killian possesses a face and disposition not of your average sable's, but more of an otter or perhaps a mouse. His eyes are warm, his face is kind, handsome, but with a hint of arrogance, and he walks with the soundness of a good-beast (despite his not so good career choices).

As the afternoon sun rose higher still in the lazy, hazy atmosphere, Killian felt his guard lower -- the warmth and sunlight never failing to make him sleepy and lethargic. Some might even say distracted. So it wasn't much of a surprise when Killian - his head turned to the west to watch a nearby blue-jay, his legs carrying him north toward the abbey - abruptly crashed into a berry bush, the last of summer's harvest clinging to its branches. "OW!" He said with surprise as something pricked his paw, the offended limb yanked back with startling speed -- but the damage had already been done, an angry bee buzzing around his face before zipping off to tell his kin of this atrocity.

Killian, however, looked at his paw cautiously, the sable's stomach turning uneasily as he saw it begin to puff up a little. ...Something tells me I should've studied medicine when I had the chance. Groaning quietly, Killian held his paw against his stomach, re-shouldered his knapsack and tried to continue on his way as best as he could. It was quite possible that Killian was allergic to bees.

[Wildrun]

Heinz Schreibner was enjoying the sunlight as best as he could, not wanting to move from his comfortable position under a shaded tree. He had left the gates to the Abbey open only the barest crack, just enough for him to get a grip on to let himself back in later. The miniscule opening represented no danger of invasion, and, besides, from where Heinz was lounging he had perfect view of of gate. No one would get inside without him seeing them from a mile away.

Unless, of course, he began to get a little bit drowsy...

Heinz had been musing over various concepts, and now, with the soothing breeze ruffling his fur and the soft heat of the sun pressing down on him, his thoughts began to slip away. They slid through his fingers and melted in the summer sun, and he made only a feeble attempt to grab them back as his eyelids began to droop. I was up too late last night. Ich muss schlafen...

As Heinz began to fade, his ears caught the barest sound from not very far away--a sound like somebeast surprised. The marten's grey eyes snapped open, and he shook his head. If I'm going to fall asleep, I'll need to close the gate. How foolish of me... Shaking out his arms and blinking his drowsiness away, Heinz stood and trotted away from his pool of shade, eyeing the gate and scanning the road.

Pausing in his tracks, Heinz squinted ahead of him, peering through the foliage as the shape of somebeast approached. Bemused, he took a step forward upon realizing this creature was a sable--and he did not look well.

The detective hesitated for a moment, assuring himself that this beast was not faking before he trotted forward and took the newcomer by the arm.

"Come with me," he said firmly, keeping tight hold of Killian's arm. "I can help you. I beg of you not to let me regret this."

Heinz grasped the protruding lip of the gate's door and escorted the sable into Redwall.

[.:Fawn:.]

Even in his current state of body and mind, Killian was somewhat surprised by the Marten's refined speaking and mannerisms. You're definitely an unusual sort of Redwaller. ”thancks furh Helphhing meh,” The sable was able to murmur before the rest of his tongue swelled – a loud gagging sound indicating that his airways were starting to close up at dangerous speeds. A sense of panic overcame the northland creature, and he felt his heart-rate increase as the terrible throbbing in his paw deepened, his normally calm, collected brown eyes at last showing signs of terror. Yet even as the feeling of 'impending doom', nausea, and extreme dizziness overtook him, Killian's all-seeing eyes couldn't help but notice several key features about the good Samaritan helping him. Over-sized coat, over-sized boots, and a hat that looks older than his grandmother. Despite his bedraggled appearance, Killian actually felt that he could trust this Marten (for the most part), despite him being of a more vermin-like species. But Killian would certainly be in the wrong to judge someone based on looks alone.

Now for the abbey. This was NOT the way he'd planned on entering it. Strolling through the front gate? Perhaps. Chatting up a few Redwallers until they thought he was trustworthy enough to let in? Of course. Getting stung by a bee, realizing he was having an allergic reaction and proceed to being dragged into the place by a marten who's wardrobe could fit a much bigger creature? Not even in his wildest dreams. Seized by a ferocious pain in his stomach, Killian stopped, jerked his rapidly swelling arm away from Heinz, bent over a bush, and retched horribly.
Wow.
Killian Blackmoor couldn't remember the last time he'd ever looked so badly in front of a beast or thing before. Bemoaning less over the fact that his lunch was now offensively decorating a berry bush and more over the fact that his appearance and reputation was in shambles, Killian felt his ego deflate with alarming speed – or maybe that was something else? Without any warning, Killian's whole body went rigid, and then as limp as a pasta noodle in one of the most ungraceful faints Killian had ever performed.

Today was not a good day for him.

[Wildrun]

Heinz managed to keep his hold on Killian as the sable jerked away from him to retch in the bushes. Hiding a grimace, Heinz threw Killian's arm over his shoulder and wrapped his other arm around the sable's side, supporting him as he flopped over in a faint. Gritting his teeth, Heinz half-carried, half-dragged the unfortunate stranger through the front gates.

A passing Abbey-dweller, a dormouse, stopped to stare at him as he attempted to kick the gate closed--goodness forbid some intruder should slip into the Abbey because of his negligence, even now. Spotting the dormouse, Heinz flashed a quick, bedraggled smile and asked, very politely, if the young sir would be so kind as to close the gate and fetch some help? Thank you.

As the dormouse dashed off, hollering at the top of his bewildered young lungs, Heinz did his best to evalute Killian, gathering as much information as he could to tell the infirmary. He gave himself a moment to absorb the fact that, despite puffing up more by the second and having the barest residue crusting the front of his shirt, this sable was almost bizarrely clean. He was well-dressed and well-groomed, with claws that so clean as to never have touched blood. Heinz raised an eyerbow at the simple finery of the sable's clothes--he was debating the possibility that Killian had actually paid for them. Pushing the thought out of his head and deciding to save judgement for later, he focused on what was ailing the untimely traveller.

From what he could tell, the sable was having an allergic reaction, but to what Heinz could only guess. Something he'd eaten? Some ivy in the wood? A bee sting? Shaking his head, the marten let out a quiet breath of relief as several Redwallers came running to his aid.

Passing Killian off into the hands of a strong otter, Heinz trotted alongisde the riverdog, feeling too responsible to let the sable out of his sight. After briefly explaining how he had come across Killian and voicing his concerns of a reaction to the infirmary nurse, Heinz was shuffled to the back of the room, watching as the healers set to work.

[.:Fawn:.]

Killian let out a raspy moan as he came to, a loud roar of shock filling the infirmary as some kind of awful tasting liquid was promptly slid down the back of his throat – the nurse not sparing his dignity over his health (thankfully). With the swelling of his tongue already going down, the bewildered sable jerked up in bed, coughing and looking blearily at all of the faces around him – an otter, that odd-looking but seemingly honorable Marten, the nurse who'd dumped that foul concoction down his throat, and a number of other Redwallers come over to see what all the hullabaloo was about. Out of instinct, the master thief glanced to his injured paw and flinched upon recognition of the unsightly horror, Killian having some trouble accepting the swollen, burning red mass as one of his limbs. ”YOUCH! Easy now my'lady, I appreciate your honest efforts to heal me, but the bee's stinger is still very much stuck in my paw. And every time you press something against it – OUCH!” Though he was being civil (his tone a strange one filled with delirium and drug-induced pep), the nurse was paying him no mind, and without much warning, yanked the bee's stinger right out from the center of his paw. Feeling tears prick 'round the rims of his eyelids, Killian tilted his head back slightly and held his tongue, quickly feigning off the pain as he kept wary eyes on his swollen arm.

Glancing to his feet, Killian let out another moan; they two, like a pair of small balloons, were apparently in a battle to out-swell his arms and upper body. “I feel kinda...faint...” Keeling over once more, the abbey nurse clucked her tongue, “poor dear. Hopefully he'll be out for a while – all the better though, 'is swellin's are bound to be painful, though they'll start comin' down soon enough.” Turning slightly towards the marten in the back of the room, the abbey nurse inquired, “any idea about a name on this fellow? I have to tell Abbot Galileo somethin'.”

[Wildrun]

Heinz winced sympathetically as the sable's babbling was silenced by the nurse before he fainted once more. Shaking his head, he held up his paws and shrugged apologetically and offered the nurse a wan smile.

"I don't know his name, unfortunately, but if I were to hazard a guess, he was making his way to the Abbey anyway before...this...happened."

It wasn't a hard deduction to make--with the exception of St. Ninian's, there was no other location within a half-day's walk offering shelter to a traveller. And, somehow, Heinz highly doubted this well-dressed stranger would care to rest at the run-down, slightly-disreputable remains of the little church.

"What will you tell the Abbot? I hate to sound hypocritical, but someone is going to have to stay to watch the fellow." He didn't bother to raise a paw, already knowing that, as he had introduced the sable to Redwall, the results were his responsibilty.

He was not entirely sure if that was a good thing yet.