Post by Lyrielle on Dec 3, 2011 23:04:23 GMT -5
"Shhhh! I think someone's coming!"
Snow had started to fall inside of the peaceful Mossflower Wood. Though it was light and not really sticking to the ground (it usually melted within the hour), it did well to entice the dibbuns of Redwall Abbey and a few young adults as well, everyone awaiting (though some more eager than others) the first big snowfall of Winter. While it had done well to rev up the Abbey babes, it was also building excitement, like the flakes building up around the base of a towering pine tree, inside of a few youngsters who did not have the pleasure of calling Redwall Abbey their home.
It was no great loss to Puck and his crew (as far as they knew, anyway), after all who wanted to give up sleeping out under the stars, never having to take baths and staying out as late as you wanted just so they could have their ears scrubbed pink, their tails tanned for misbehaving and way more adults than either babe knew what to do with? They certainly didn't.
And so it was with great glee that Puck, an armful of hard, sharp pinecones for ammunition, was firing at any non suspecting trespassers, raining the dark oddly-shaped missiles down at anyone foolish enough to walk by. What followed was usually a good bout of raucous giggling, and some of the babes were so enthusiastic they nearly fell out of the tree! but Lir and Puck's good reaction times, not to mention Boon having the good sense to tie a safety harness onto each of the little ones, managed to avoid any real danger.
The mischievous gleam emitted from Tom Malvolio Goodfellow's impish green eyes stood out against the dark bark of the pine tree he was sitting in, one arm pulled back as though to launch a pinecone at his target the second some poor beast showed up. His long, tufted red ears quivered with anticipation.
"One..." he counted wickedly, "Two...THREE!"
All at once, Puck and the Lost Boys began pelting pinecones at an unsuspecting creature, not bothering to check who or what it was, their only objective to cause mischief and occasional bits of grief when the opportunity presented itself.
Snow had started to fall inside of the peaceful Mossflower Wood. Though it was light and not really sticking to the ground (it usually melted within the hour), it did well to entice the dibbuns of Redwall Abbey and a few young adults as well, everyone awaiting (though some more eager than others) the first big snowfall of Winter. While it had done well to rev up the Abbey babes, it was also building excitement, like the flakes building up around the base of a towering pine tree, inside of a few youngsters who did not have the pleasure of calling Redwall Abbey their home.
It was no great loss to Puck and his crew (as far as they knew, anyway), after all who wanted to give up sleeping out under the stars, never having to take baths and staying out as late as you wanted just so they could have their ears scrubbed pink, their tails tanned for misbehaving and way more adults than either babe knew what to do with? They certainly didn't.
And so it was with great glee that Puck, an armful of hard, sharp pinecones for ammunition, was firing at any non suspecting trespassers, raining the dark oddly-shaped missiles down at anyone foolish enough to walk by. What followed was usually a good bout of raucous giggling, and some of the babes were so enthusiastic they nearly fell out of the tree! but Lir and Puck's good reaction times, not to mention Boon having the good sense to tie a safety harness onto each of the little ones, managed to avoid any real danger.
The mischievous gleam emitted from Tom Malvolio Goodfellow's impish green eyes stood out against the dark bark of the pine tree he was sitting in, one arm pulled back as though to launch a pinecone at his target the second some poor beast showed up. His long, tufted red ears quivered with anticipation.
"One..." he counted wickedly, "Two...THREE!"
All at once, Puck and the Lost Boys began pelting pinecones at an unsuspecting creature, not bothering to check who or what it was, their only objective to cause mischief and occasional bits of grief when the opportunity presented itself.
