Meanwhile... [OPEN]

[Wildrun]

((For any other poor soul not involved with the plot or who just wants some extra excitment on the side. :3 ))

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The brilliantly blue sky was dotted with cotton-puff clouds, and a pleasant breeze whistled it's way through the treetops of Mossflower Wood. The leaves dacned merrily, painting a dappled pattern across the grass far below. A trio of birds zipped through the air, casting shadows on the ground that vanished from sight as fast as they did. The trunk of the massive tree towered above the other denizens of the Wood, and it seemed that everything near it was prey to the relaxing peace that reigned in it's cool shadow.

Heinz Schreibner reclined against one of the enormous roots that protruded like a spiderweb around the base of Brockhall. The marten had decided not to creep through the door that was carved into the base of the tree a few yards away from him--he had found the quiet he was seeking, and he felt no need to intrude on whoever called this tree home (if indeed anybeast did).

The marten cracked another nut open, prying at it with his knife until finally it yielded. He chewed it contemplatively, staring through the canopy of leaves above him and watching the sky. He was expecting a messenger soon, a sparrow who brought him news. If anything was happening nearby, Heinz always heard about it.

A twig snapped, the small cracking sound seeming far off in the relative stillness of the day. Heinz's head snapped around, staring in the direction he thought the sound had come from. He was expecting a sparrow, and hadn't realized any other beast might be roaming nearby. What he also did not know was whether this visitor was as friendly as the bird.

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((I'm pretty p.o'd at myself for not returning in time to join the plot(s). I don't want to randomly jump in and disrupt things, but not posting is killing me. So, if anyone wants to join my little mini-adventure, please do. :3))

[symphony]

It was one of those undeniably beautiful days, the kind that sport perfect blue skies with the occasional puffy white cloud, a rare comfortable temperature, and just the right amount of breeze. Knowing days like these would get to be few and far between as the seasons progressed, Lyre of Southsward enjoyed it immensely. His original plan had been to go to the Abbey of Redwall – he’d happened upon it a day earlier but hadn’t been interested in locking himself behind those formidable blood-colored walls at the time. Nonetheless the countless tales he’d heard about the vittles produced there had eventually succeeded in turning his feet around late the night before. Upon waking to such a lovely day, however, the wayward hare changed his mind yet again and simply set about strolling through the forest, snacking on a few oatcakes.

Mossflower wood, though alive with the sounds of a forest teeming with life, did not produce another creature within Lyre’s immediate vicinity for some time. It didn’t bother him in the least, of course, but he found he’d expected to find more creatures out and about on a day like this. Interesting that he hadn’t run into or been hailed by another beast so far… speak of the devil, he thought abruptly, coming to a stop several paces from an impressive oak. Being almost behind it, the hare might have missed the other creature entirely if his long, black-tipped ears hadn’t caught the sound of a nut being cracked. Moving slowly and quietly, Lyre backed off and began circling around, trying to get a bearing on whomever this new creature was. Such caution had saved his hide more times than he could count.

A marten. The hare crouched behind a screen of some conveniently placed bushes, slowly easing his pack off his shoulders. He hadn’t seen many martens in his lifetime; this one looked to be alone, dressed in clothes too big for him and unconcerned with his surroundings. Apart from the knife in his paw, he didn’t appear to be armed... suddenly, one of Lyre’s shoulder straps slipped from his paw, and though he moved quickly to keep from dumping his gear into the bush, he could not stop a corner from hitting the forest floor. A twig resting beside his footpaw met its end with a resounding crack; Lyre froze and held his breath. Seeing the marten’s head snap around in his direction, he knew he was caught – or would be soon enough. Forest undergrowth is difficult at best to run through.

Well, well… he was alone. And Lyre’s stave was longer than the stranger’s knife. And when had he not been able to outrun a surprised pursuer? Not recently, at least. Seeing as he’d more or less revealed himself already, there was no point in hiding now. Besides, it was too lovely a day to not exchange hellos with the locals. With this decision made, Lyre hefted his bag onto his shoulders again and stood, carefully sidestepping his spying place to saunter toward the marten. He pasted an easy-going half smile on his face and called out lightly, "Af'ernoon, mate. Lovely day, innit?"

[Vikenti Whitedeath]

It was a good day to have nothing to do. The sunshine shone green through the leaves of trees above. A cool breeze blew among the ancient tree trucks. Lysistra and her gang had a few good days of robbing, and now that they were all rich, or so it seemed to them, they had split up for a day or two to spend their new found wealth. Lysistra didn't really care what they did as long as they were fighting fit when they got back.

Lysistra herself was going for a walk in the woods. It was nice to get away from the fast paced life of a bandit every once and a while. She just hoped she didn't come across anybeast who knew her as a thief. Lysistra stopped at looked up at giant tree which rose up ahead. It was quite an impressive sight.

Pushing her way through some high bushes, Lysistra came upon Heinz and Lyre. Instinctively, her paw went for her sword. But, seeing that neither of them looked as if they were combat ready, she managed to stop herself. "Well, um, hello guys," Lysistra said somewhat nervously, "I was just passing through."