Further ((OPEN))

[Promatera]

As Dandelion admired her doll, she could hear the sound of a chain. Looking up she noticed Cross holding a large golden ring in his webbed paw.

"This was my father's," he said. "I . . . watched him die. But I believe my mother still lives."

As he placed a paw on her arm, she looked him straight in the eyes. Through his sorrow Dandelion could see Cross' compassion. She had never before related to any beast other than her parents and was moved by his sympathy.

"I am truly sorry for your loss."

"As am I," she responded with her honey brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight. "I truly hope you find your mother," she added with the roughness in her language softening. As he moved his paw away, Dandelion's curiosity in the otter had grown. What else did the two have in common?

A short silence passed between the two with the river rushing alongside them. "So what brought you to the river?" she asked looking at him once more.

[Cross]

"I truly hope you find your mother," she added with the roughness in her language softening.

Cross didn't reply. Inside, he genuinely hoped he would never see his mother again. She would hate him for what had happened. But he tried not to dwell on it, and simply nodded his thanks for the sentiment.

"So what brought you to the river?" she asked looking at him once more.

The otter finished off another pawful of minnows. He returned his gaze to hers, thinking for a moment. She had pretty brown eyes. They reminded him of some beast he once knew. "I have been traveling for . . . a long time," he replied. "And my only destination is further north. It was chance I came to this river the day you did."

[Promatera]

The sea otter grabbed a handful of minnows, swallowed them and returned his attention to Dandelion.

"I have been traveling for . . . a long time," he replied. "And my only destination is further north. It was chance I came to this river the day you did."

Truly a wanderer. Dandelion wondered what could have caused Cross to just roam the country? She placed her doll back inside her bag and picked another pawful of berries. Though her curiosity remained towards Cross, it seemed like he had some difficulty in answering.

"I see," she responded, "well once we reach Redwall, perhaps we can both settle down for a while." Though Dandelion loved the adventure of travelling, it was beginning to grow tiresome to her. Reaching Redwall was her primary goal, but she never expected to be traveling for so long.

[Cross]

"I see," she responded, "well once we reach Redwall, perhaps we can both settle down for a while."

Cross dropped his gaze. He hadn't stayed in one place for over a year. Though he hated running away, it was his life now. He couldn't stop running. His past might catch up with him. And there was no way he'd be able to face it.

"Perhaps," he said quietly. He would stop at this Redwall place for a few days, of course, but not much longer. Settling down wasn't an option for him anymore.

[Promatera]

"Perhaps," he said quietly.

Dandelion nodded. Cross may not want to stay in one place for long, but she didn't mind, especially if her father's tales were true. As Cross looked away, Dandelion laid back and observed the clouds overhead.

"Do you enjoy watching the clouds?" she asked still gazing overhead.

((OOC: Ugh short! Gotta work on that!))

[Cross]

Cross was inwardly grateful the mouse did not press the issue. He finished off his lunch in the few moments of comfortable silence that passed. He then tied the bandana around one well-muscled arm for safekeeping.

"Do you enjoy watching the clouds?" she asked still gazing overhead.

Cross looked up at the fluffy white ethereal things floating high overhead. Did he like watching the clouds? He had never really done it before. He was always busy traveling and foraging during the daytime. He preferred the vastness of the night sky. Against the endless black canvas of the night, his past seemed so small and unimportant, which made him almost feel like he could let it go.

Clouds moved far too much for him to enjoy them. His life was about moving, anyway, so if the inhabitants of the sky matched his pace, he couldn't relax in them. They made him feel more rushed. Depending on where they were in the sky, he would feel left behind, chased, or hurrying to some imagined finish line to beat them.

"Not particularly," he replied, dropping his gaze once more. He fiddled with the chain and ring around his neck, bracing himself on one arm. "I like the stars better."

[Promatera]

"Not particularly," he replied, dropping his gaze once more. He fiddled with the chain and ring around his neck, bracing himself on one arm. "I like the stars better."

Dandelion looked towards Cross and nodded; thinking for a moment about the stars. It was quite amazing to see the stars at night, shining down on them from miles away. However, the bright blue sky was hard to beat in her mind. When clouds marked the sky it was as if looking upon a new masterpiece created for all to admire. Dandelion returned her gaze to the sky above and her mind drifted to what Redwall may look like. She wondered if it would be as grand as her father had said it would be.

"So what else have you heard of Redwall?" she asked breaking the short silence between the two.

[Cross]

"So what else have you heard of Redwall?" she asked breaking the short silence between the two.

Cross thought for a moment as the blacksmith's stories came back to him. They were marvelous tales, and the otter wondered why he had forgotten them so easily. Now that he remembered, he became even more eager to visit the place, and vaguely wondered how close they were to Redwall.

"I hear they have the best food anywhere," he said. "And they never refuse entry to a lost traveler." Unless they had good reason to, he added in his thoughts. If they knew what Cross had done, they'd never let him in. "The walls of the place are red as the sunset, and the twin bells, Matthias and Methuselah, can be heard for miles around." He remembered how animated the blacksmith had become when describing Redwall. It brought the smallest smile to the otter's face.

[Promatera]

There was silence for a moment until Cross replied.

"I hear they have the best food anywhere,"he said. "And they never refuse entry to a lost traveler." "The walls of the place are red as the sunset, and the twin bells, Matthias and Methuselah, can be heard for miles around."

"'Tis a shame I missed them," she sighed, "though it sounds as though my father was right about the abbey."

Her father's stories floated through her mind as she lay relaxing. Dandelion could remember her father telling her not only of the food, but the kinds beasts there as well. Having only been used to rogues, this would be quite amazing. Though Cross seemed to be a kind enough creature. She just wondered why he seemed to keep so much to himself. Then again she did too.

"Well we won't get to Redwall any faster just by laying here," she spoke lifting herself off the floor and dusting off her robe. "It is time we move on," she continued picking up her large weapon.

[Cross]

"Well we won't get to Redwall any faster just by laying here," she spoke lifting herself off the floor and dusting off her robe. "It is time we move on," she continued picking up her large weapon.

Cross followed suit, standing quickly and taking up his javelin. He wholeheartedly agreed with her. Sitting would never get them anywhere. Moving on was what he did for a living, though he didn't get paid for it.

They walked along the stream for some time and soon found that it curved decidedly north, so they continued to follow it. It would be a welcome and convenient source of water along their way, and a way to stay cool if the day got any warmer.

Which it did in time. The sun bore down on them with a maddened ferocity. Cross cursed the dark marking on his back as sweat began to run down his muscular frame. He finally had to jump in the water. Jamming his javelin into the ground next to a nearby tree, he hurried to the water's edge and dove right in, the current quickly cooling off his overheated body. He resurfaced and turned to shore, beckoning to Dandelion with one arm.

((Stole your idea and gave a title to my post. -giggles- ))

[Promatera]

Together the two continued to follow the river North, but the cool sea breeze had vanished, leaving the two blasted with the summer heat. Dandelion trudged ahead, determined to make as much progress as possible, but it seemed that Cross had another idea in mind.

SPLASH

Dandelion turned to see Cross jump straight into the water. Water shot out towards her and a light spray reached her face, cooling it almost instantly. Cross reemerged from the water and beckoned Dandelion to join. She smiled, approached the bank slowly, and dipped her foot paws in. The coolness of the water soothed her worn foot paws. She was tempted to go in further, but she could not get her robe wet. It was all she had to wear.

"I'll stay along the bank," she replied swinging her foot paws lazily in the river, "go ahead and cool off!" Turning away from the otter, Dandelion wet her paws and washed her face. Instantly the water brought relief and cooled her down.

Placing her spear aside, Dandelion observed the surrounding bank. She wanted to make sure no beast would ambush them.

[Cross]

"I'llstay along the bank," she replied swinging her foot paws lazily in the river, "go ahead and cool off!" Turning away from the otter, Dandelion wet her paws and washed her face.

Cross nodded in response, shrugging to himself as the mousemaid turned away. What was it with other creatures and getting their clothes wet? It wasn't as if the garments wouldn't dry off. But he supposed the uncomfortableness of walking around for several minutes in dripping, damp, clingy clothing was just too unbearable for some. Not to mention the fact that Dandelion might not have other clothes to wear.

Diving below the surface again, the otter shot through the water like an arrow, crossing to the other side of the stream and back again, making a few rounds for some added exercise. On his third pass, he spotted something with his good eye and stopped, swimming to the bottom of the stream.

Something sparkling was half-buried in the shifting stream bed. Shoving away the dirt with his paws, the otter discovered a beautiful shell. It was half of what was once a large oyster, which must have drifted up the stream's current from the sea. The inside was a shining pearlescent violet, the sparkling that had caught his eye. Scooping up the shell, he resurfaced, returning to the shore. Still halfway submerged, Cross gazed at the shell in the full sunlight. It was dazzling. He hadn't seen such a shell in years. It reminded him of home.

"Dandelion," he called softly, holding up the shell for her to see. Maybe she would want it. If she had a small knife, he could carve a hole into one end of the shell and thread it onto some twine to make a necklace.

[Promatera]

Confident there were no vermin about, Dandelion returned her gaze to Cross who was darting back and forth between the banks of the river. Suddenly the otter stopped his swimming exercise and sank further in the water. Dandelion watched curiously wondering what had caught Cross's attention.

Then in a flash the otter returned to the surface holding something in his paws.

"Dandelion," he called softly, holding up the shell for her to see.

"Beautiful," she murmured as the shell reflected the dazzling light of the sun. She had never before seen on oyster shell so the experience was very exciting for her. "Could you bring it closer?" she asked wanting to get a better look at the shell. She was glad there were no vermin around. This shell definitely looked valuable.

[Cross]

"Beautiful . . . Could you bring it closer?" she asked wanting to get a better look at the shell.

Cross pulled himself out of the water, bringing the shell over to the mouse. It was indeed beautiful. But the memories it brought back were painful. He had once searched for shells like these with his siblings, years ago. How long had it been? He had no sense of time anymore, not since he was little more than a kit. As he held out the shell to Dandelion, an image, a memory, formed in his mind. A tiny webbed paw reaching out to his as he offered a conch.

As quickly as it had come, the image was gone, leaving Cross with a familiar emptiness. So often those pleasant memories would come back to him, only to fade like a summer breeze. His eye focused in on the shell again. The pearlescent side reflected both his and Dandelion's faces in an opalescence of blurred colors. No, his past couldn't catch up with him now. In this moment, he was sharing a beautiful discovery with a companion. It need not be ruined by his sorrows.

[King Benon]

Pagglestick was making good progress on his mission. His Gouraf Shrew brethren had left him in charge of a very important assignment. He and his flotilla were headed for Redwall abbey to spend the autumn and the winter behind the walls and among the friendly beasts at Redwall when their traditional migration was interrupted. A corsair vessel was spotted rowing upstream and the Guoraf could not allow the vermin to bring trouble to anybeast in their jurisdiction. Paggle, in his enormous floating farm was too slow to take part in the high speed pursuit and instead his job was to take himself, and those shrews too young or old to fight, to Redwall and return with help. After the vermin corsairs were vanquished, the Gouraf would return to Redwall to spend the waning year.

An ancient shrew-wife had just put down all the shrewbabes for a nap with the aid of Paggs' special strawberry and marjoram root cordial. A sweet fizzy drink that aids digestion, eases the rheumatism, and cures insomnia. Paggle surveyed the operations on his vessel with a weather eye, his crew of old Guoraf beasts were poling the craft down the stream with ease, and with the experience of the mole and his trusty paddle any current could be overcome.

Paggle sat at the stern of the vessel, his trusty paddle dipped into the water behind him, directing the craft to its destination. He enjoyed his time on the stream, the soft gurgle of the water, the cool breeze made by their swift progress upstream, the soft hum of old shrew-wives and veteran Guoraf shrews gossiping and arguing amongst the plants growing in neat rows aboard the floating farm barge. Paggle was at peace with himself, he shut his tiny mole eyes, let out a sigh of contentment. He had almost gotten used to the serenity of the moment, a short respite amid the urgency of his mission, when he heard a faint splash up around the bend. Immediately his instinct kicked in and he began bellowing orders to his aged crew, gesticulating with his hefty digging claws.

"Hurr hurr, Oi 'eard ee splarsh oopstream, dooble toime naow moi ole taturs! Shift thoiselves, step ee loively naow you'm shrewers, somebody moight bees in trooble!"

Despite their age and protests of rheumatizm, his elderly crew jumped smartly to task, propelling the craft with a burst of speed upstream and around the northbound bend. He saw two beasts at the side of the stream, a young sea otter and an equally young bright yellow mouse looking closely at something. He hailed the two young beasts, who sat to port.

"Hurr hurr, ahoy thur, zurr ploinktail an' mizzy yella mouse! Loverly arternoon a be on ee water, how do ee foind thoiselves?!"

He directed his craft toward the bank occupied by the two creatures, as the triple prow of the craft ground into the bank side, he cast a rope towards the two, calling, " 'Old fastly ee roop, Oim a commin ashore!"

With a nimbleness borne from a life on the water, Pagglestick Streamdiggurn launched himself into the waist deep stream. He felt his flotation vest give him a little extra buoyancy as he trudged toward the surprised looking pair. He chortled to himself as he imagined what they were seeing: a velvety mole bedecked in Guoraf kilt and headband with an eye patch and monocle and a flotation vest, carrying a logboat paddle, it would have been a comical sight. He approached the pair and made an elegant bow, sweeping his paddle low and tapping the side of his snout, a sign of respect among moles.

[Promatera]

The shell was beautiful indeed. Its brilliant luster reminded Dandelion of a star. It was so bright in fact that it blinded her for a moment. Rubbing her eyes she looked downstream where, to her surprise, she noticed a giant barge was floating towards them. Dandelion's jaw dropped, but she promptly shut it. She had never seen anything like this before. First a shell and now a strange vessel coming towards them. What next?

Not sure how to react she asked Cross, "Is this unusual at all in Mossflower?" Picking up her halberd she held it close, just in case the other beasts were foes.

"Hurr hurr, ahoy thur, zurr ploinktail an' mizzy yella mouse! Loverly arternoon a be on ee water, how do ee foind thoiselves?!"

"W-what did he say?" Dandelion asked, confused by the heavy mole dialect.

" 'Old fastly ee roop, Oim a commin ashore!"

Now the beast was coming ashore? Dandelion had never met a mole before, so seeing a mole at the front of the craft was quite alien to her. His colorful attire did not help much either. As the mole brought the barge close to shore he leapt into the water and floated because of a sort of vest he tied around himself. As the mole approached them he bowed rather low and tapped his snout.

Stunned Dandelion paused a moment before realizing the mole was introducing himself. Curtsying she replied, "Pleasure to meet you Mr...?"

[Cross]

Cross turned at the sound of the barge. He tilted his head slightly in surprise to see a mole hailing them from the deck. Cross had met a mole or two before, but he thought they normally kept to dry land. The otter tucked the shell away in his waist sash and tugged his javelin out of the ground.

Not sure how to react she asked Cross, "Is this unusual at all in Mossflower?" Picking up her halberd she held it close, just in case the other beasts were foes.

"I am not sure," he replied, equally confused.

"Hurr hurr, ahoy thur, zurr ploinktail an' mizzy yella mouse! Loverly arternoon a be on ee water, how do ee foind thoiselves?!"

"W-what did he say?" Dandelion asked, confused by the heavy mole dialect.

"He called me Sir Planktail and you Missy Yellow Mouse," Cross answered in a low tone. He had learned to understand mole dialect on his journey, but even he had trouble deciphering this mole's words. "And he asked us how our day is. More or less."

As Dandelion assessed the newcomer, Cross examined the barge beyond the mole. Elderly crew, mostly shrews. They posed little threat at the moment. The big otter returned his one good eye to the mole just in time to catch a rope flung from the deck. Without depth perception, the catch was made a bit clumsily, but the otter managed to hold onto the thick cord.

Cross said nothing as the mole bowed and Dandelion tried to communicate. The newcomer was a rather amusing sight, but Cross didn't laugh. With so many unfamiliar creatures present, his face dropped all emotion, a habit formed from long journeying alone. He would let the mole do most of the talking. After all, he had approached them.

[King Benon]

Stunned Dandelion paused a moment before realizing the mole was introducing himself. Curtsying she replied, "Pleasure to meet you Mr...?"

Paggle chuckled at the surprised mouse, he always was a shock to the senses for those unprepared to meet him. Her surprised formality embarrassed him, being unused to such proceedings aboard the Guoraf flotilla, he shuffled his footpaws "Hurr hurr, nay marm, oi'm not ee mizztur er eklees oi 'as not never been afore. Oi'm Pagglestick Streamdiggurn, cooker fer ee Guriller Oonyun uh Roovin' an' Foightin Shrewers, an' campting ov ee gurt ship behoind oi! Oi 'eard ee splashings an' brung moiselv ta investergate, 'oping nobeast would be drownding in ee stream. Oi never catchered you'm's names, boi okey, wot bees they?"

He peered at his inquisitors through his monocle, his beady little mole eyes squinting, he examined the javelin wielding otter with only one good eye and the bright yellow mouse, clutching her massive halberd. They had the look of travelers about them, especially since they had no shelter hereabouts.

((OOC: I can clear up any vague/incomprehensible molespeak for you if you need me to, I realize I'm probably taking some liberties and it might be difficult to follow))

[Promatera]

Dandelion was relieved to hear that Cross could understand the mole. Having grown up away from most other beasts, mole dialect was very new to her. However, with the arrival of the moles, Cross seemed to fall silent. It seemed like Dandelion would be the spokesbeast for the two. Though it didn't seem like it would be too hard a task as the mole seemed quite jovial. Chuckling and shuffling his feet he answered Dandelion's inquiry.

"Hurr hurr, nay marm, oi'm not ee mizztur er eklees oi 'as not never been afore. Oi'm Pagglestick Streamdiggurn, cooker fer ee Guriller Oonyun uh Roovin' an' Foightin Shrewers, an' campting ov ee gurt ship behoind oi! Oi 'eard ee splashings an' brung moiselv ta investergate, 'oping nobeast would be drownding in ee stream. Oi never catchered you'm's names, boi okey, wot bees they?"

Dandelion had not understood everything the mole had said, but she understood enough to realize the mole wanted to know their names. A reasonable request and the mole had give his name.

"My name is Dandelion and the otter here is my friend Cross," she responded. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Pagglestick Streamdiggurn." She smiled. The mole's behavior and name was quite amusing to her and her curiosity in the creature was growing. How did moles come to own a barge of this size and where were they headed? Perhaps they were also headed to Redwall?

"We are both travelers headed for Redwall Abbey," she added looking at the barge. "What is your destination?" she asked turning back to the friendly mole.

((OOC: Don't worry about the molespeak. You're doing a great job of it and I can figure it out! XD))

[Cross]

"Oi'm Pagglestick Streamdiggurn, cooker fer ee Guriller Oonyun uh Roovin' an' Foightin Shrewers . . . Oi never catchered you'm's names, boi okey, wot bees they?"

"My name is Dandelion and the otter here is my friend Cross," she responded.

Cross nodded politely at the mole, the otter's face still an emotionless mask. He still carried the rope in his sinewy paws, unsure of what to do with it, having never been around such strange watercraft as the mole's barge. But he said nothing as Dandelion continued, her interest obviously piqued by this new character.

It mattered little to Cross whether this Pagglestick and his elderly crew were headed to Redwall. If they were, wonderful for them. And if they knew a shorter route out that way, it would benefit the otter and mouse to ask directions. But perhaps the mole would offer them a ride, if he was at all headed to the abbey.

If that happened, Cross would not protest, but he would remain mute for most of the journey. He didn't much care for large groups of strangers, especially not when he was traveling. It was nice when it was just him and Dandelion. But, again, he would not refuse a ride from this rather comical mole.