Getting into their minds!

[Tulian Solum]

Just a little thing I thought I would do, and maybe some others want to join in aswell?

Basically the idea is that you take some part of your characters past, and then go into more detail about what they thought about it, heres an example for good old Tul's slow bob toward land that I actually wrote for my Survey of Americian Literature teacher if you belive it. Because Tul reminded me of the Correspondant from the story The Open Boat by Stephen Crane, and she wanted me to explain more of why I thought that.

Journal Entry #2; (The first was before he got on another ship, about what's happened to him on the land since landing on the shore and finding the port again)

A lot of the crew have been asking me about what happened before. Apparently the little story of my unintended barrel ride got around. But its nearly impossible to talk about what it was like, especially with the...accent barrier that gives me more then a few looks. (ex, What do you need Captain = 'Wa ta nee' Cap'n?', when Tul speaks.). Its much easier to write it out where that isn't such a problem, of course now most wont be able to read it anyway..their loss.

Anyway, yes, I did ride that barrel for two days at least, and yes, it was a horrible experience. Its hard to describe what that really felt like, it was certainly more then just; Oh no.

Lets start with the physical side of it. The sea, as much as I love her for not sending a storm at me when I was in it, is not a nice place to be with no ship. For starters its very, very cold. And when your 'boat' isn't exactly stable, your forced to choose, between the stress of trying to balance on that tiny thing or lower your body into that. Luckily the pain didn't last long because I soon lost the feeling in my legs and tail after a few hours of bobbing. Theres the second part. Now I don't know about the others on the crew but you have to have a pretty good set of sea legs to make it on a ship, but I dare, I DARE you to try and make it on just a tiny dingy for any significant amount of time when your not feeling 100% to begin with. To do my best to hold all that down I just had to shut my eyes and hope, pray that the sea would be more kind then the crew and give me some calm waters.

Imagine that for a second. Imagine just blackness, and the only sound being the quiet slosh of the water against wood. The only feeling you have any more being your slowly weakening grip on that wood, not to mention the steady up and down of yourself bobbing on the sea swells....Yeah, not so jolly...And that's was just half of it.

Remember that I used to be held in high regards with that crew before they tossed me out. Imagine that everyone you ever knew suddenly turned on you for a grievance that wasn't your fault. How do you think that felt? That alone would be enough to make you wish for the sea to claim you. But no...I actually have to thank the crew for giving me a reason to keep hanging on through the black.

That bastard who threw me off offered me a challenge, and if I really knew my maps I would be able to reach land, and as you can read..if you can, I'm still here. Its a shame that accursed ship was nearing scuppers with her rations and their all probably dead now. I would love to see the look on his face...

But back to the sea. Two days is a loooong time when your that close to death. And even with my resolve to show that weasel who was the clever cog in the crew I was maybe a few hours from just giving up. The sea had been so good to that I would just let her claim me. Soon I would be back on a crew anyway, on the crew of the Lost. Able to sail till the end of time with creatures that would never judge me for mistakes that weren't mine. But the land finally came into view, and I tried one last time to make it, kicking out with the weights attached to me that were not my legs to reach land. I passed out after just reaching land, but I made sure to look back at the sea and thank her one last time...and promise that in the end I would let her have me, It would only be fair, and Its never a good idea to anger the sea gods.

Ill finish off now, Captain Stryker wants a route plotted out, and the candle in here has nearly burned down...Guess I had more to say then I thought.

T.Solum - Navigator.

[Django]

Awesome idea, Tul! ^^ I had fun with this. Do expect more, haha.

Few memories are clearer in my mind than when I met Broden, and when I met Coor. 

I was only a few years old when Broden and his parents came to Redwall. I remember distinctly how . . . extremely spiky the little hedgehog family was. I knew hedgehogs were spiky, but these hogs were particularly so. Broden's spines were not quite as sharp as his parents' yet, but when he tackled me that day during a game of tag, I was sure he'd left some of his spines behind in my hide. 

Even so, we got along fine. He seemed confused that I wasn't able to speak to him during our initial conversations. "Hey, can'tcha talk, Blacky?" I never took it personally. But I did feel a little self-conscious when my friend Tessa had to explain that I had no voice. 

I and everybeast else had trouble keeping up with him whenever his mother let him near sweets, but I admit I had to smile when his eyes grew wide as his dinner plate and he said with awe, "I can see eternity . . ." Most enjoyable feast I've attended yet.

We didn't oft seek each other out those first years. He was occupied with his training and friends outside the abbey. And then, when he left to 'save the world' as he called it, I admit I honestly didn't miss him. Sure, he was a nice hedgehog, but we weren't close friends then. He was gone for a long time, and life went on at Redwall just as it always had. When the news came of his return, though, it spread like wildfire.

"Broden's home!" abbey-dwellers rejoiced. I am almost ashamed to say that I found myself thinking, 'Who's Broden?' But when they asked me to perform a song or two at his homecoming feast, I didn't hesitate. Of course I recognized him once I saw him again. How could I forget that overly-spiky mountain of a hog? I don't believe I'd ever played better than how I played that night. 

After the feast, I came up to offer my two bits in all the congratulating he was receiving, and he seemed to recognize me, too. I felt guilty for not recalling his name, but I decided we could start afresh. Of course, he'd forgotten my muteness, so when I didn't answer his introduction with my own name, he once again asked me, "Hey, can ye nae speak, Blacky?" Once he was told, however, he almost seemed embarrassed, but he just laughed it off. I had to smile. Our friendship really began after that night.

From then on, Broden came to respect my muteness. Of course, there were times when he forgot. "Speak up, Rook!!" But again, I never took any of it personally. I'd simply write my words in all capital letters to make sure he 'heard' me. Needless to say, we got along famously. And it was nice to have a friend who didn't try to keep things solemn around me because of my handicap. Everybeast else seemed to avoid jokes about my muteness like the plague. Not Broden. And strangely, his playful jabs at my silence were therapeutic in a way. I felt he simply didn't care about it and was determined to be my friend in spite of it. 

And then Coor came along. I was unsure what to think of him at first. He was a quiet sort to say the least. He'd experienced tragic deaths in his family, ample reason for his withdrawn personality, yet I felt he'd no need to seek solitude so often as he did. I quickly figured out that he would never fit in with the peace-loving beasts of Redwall, but I enjoyed the occasional break from the bustling abbey, as well. So I'd seek him out during those times, if only to have somebeast to play music to. 

I didn't learn his story from him. If that had been the case, I still wouldn't know it. Coor is far too reserved for such a thing as sharing his past. But out of respect for him, neither I nor Broden ever brought it up. (I have the feeling Coor preferred my company the most since I am physically unable to talk about his past, but that is an unconfirmed suspicion.) 

Eventually, and quite slowly, Coor began to heal. His daily sparring sessions with Broden allowed him to exercise his strength, something which he is extremely strict about. My songs--though I am still unsure if this--brought an air of tranquility to the times when he and I were alone. 

He, like Broden, forgot about my muteness at times. "Speak plainly, Rook." I'd grown accustomed to it, so I simply shrugged it off. But when Coor would forget, he would simply become silent as the grave. It didn't take long for me to put two and two together to realize this shutting down was to him like blushing was to others. It was how he responded to an awkward situation. I found it amusing and would simply begin to play another song, a warm smile on my face to let him know I had no hard feelings towards him. 

There were times, however, when his constant seriousness admittedly put me off. I was used to Broden's lighthearted and oft unpredictable ways. Coor, though a squirrel of obvious wit and cleverness, rarely showed his lighter side. But this was offset by his growing loyalty to the friendship forming among us three. I indeed felt honored to see his dedication to both Broden and me. It was humbling to think such a creature as Coor would consider me a friend.

In fact, I feel both Broden and Coor have lived lifetimes already, and mine is only beginning. I'm no warrior, as they are, nor have I ever saved a life or put myself at risk for the sake of another. Broden and Coor are heroes, and I am a resident of Redwall. They turn to me as the 'voice of reason' in difficult circumstances, but I feel I am hardly qualified to offer any kind of reasoning to them. 

Speak of the devils, I believe that's them now, brawling on the lawns. I should go referee the fight in case things get out of paw. I believe that elder otter is still in the infirmary from being run over by them last week.

Signing off,
Lyric 'Rook' Dare