Flowerpots ((Open))

[Rook]

Tessa Rex Evelyn Boulder was thoroughly enjoying herself. Covered from head to toe in dirt and various grime, the molemaid tunneled through the earth at speeds that rivaled a sprinter. Her big digging claws shoved the soil aside in great heaps as she went, surfacing right smack in the middle of the orchards.

"Boi okey, them be's ee purty floyrs," she gushed, sniffing a fully-bloomed daisy near her nose. Emerging from her tunnel, the young mole sat cross-legged in the gardens, picking some flowers and breathing in their wonderful scent. Many of them were wilting, as per usual of the fall season, but they still smelled wonderful.

"Oo came oop wid ee floyrs, Oi'd loik ter know," she mused, shaking some loose dirt off her head and claws. "Ee be a gurt wunnerful t'inker ter come oop wid purty floyrs, boi okey." Though she wasn't a religious creature, Tess was curious. Who'd first made flowers? They must have been very smart, and very creative. Tess wasn't creative in the least, but she did enjoy things that hugged so close to the ground like she did.

"Noice, purty floyrs," she chimed, patting the soil by the patch of daisies. "Oi do durly loiks ter see ee floyrs, but Oi got ee tunnuls ter dig. Boi, floyrs!" She gave a little wave with her six-fingered digging claw and was about to dive back into her tunnel, when she heard the telltale sound of paw steps coming this way.

Uh-oh, it might be the grounds keeper! He'd throttle her if he saw her in his gardens picking his flowers. But Tess was an honest mole, and she was not one to try and get away with mischief. This time, she hadn't done anything maliciously, but she just wasn't thinking. As per usual. Putting on a nervous smile, the molemaid braced herself for the lecturing of her life.

[nikki]

Sister Moira Deeptrench had shuffled down to the orchards on a request from her mother - the kitchenmole wanted fresh apples for a dessert, and Moira was never one to refuse a request, so the Sister made her way down, squinting at the apple trees to gauge the ripest fruits.

Then the scent of freshly churned soil reached her nose, and Tessa's gruff voice reached her ears.

"Oi do durly loiks ter see ee floyrs, but Oi got ee tunnuls ter dig. Boi, floyrs!"

The younger mole stopped, though, as she heard Moira's approach, and the tan-furred sister had to smile at the maid's shamefaced look.

"Ho, an' ee floyrs be kin to us'n, they be."

She chortled, setting her basket aside to pluck the roots of an already-picked flower from the earth with her strangely thin claws.

"See yon roots make ee likkle tunnels? Ho aye, ee floyrs be they'm own likkle molers unner ee blooms." Everything fitting together and linked like the weave of emroidered thread over soft woven garment, that was the beauty of it. Moira grinned, looking Tessa over.

"An' ee durty likkle maid you'm be, thy claws makin' big tunnels for ee big Tessa-floyr, boi okey! What'n ee be doin' a-diggen ee garden?"

[Rook]

Tessa watched, enthralled, as the older mole explained the kinship shared between flowers and moles. Picking up a daisy she had uprooted, the young molemaid smiled, wrinkling her velvety snout.

"Boi okey, marm," she exclaimed. "Ee be's ee wiser ter know all 'bout ee floyrs, ee be. No wunner Oi loiks ee floyrs. Do ee fink yon molers turn into ee floyrs arter a-livin' ee loif?" Tess had never thought about it this way. It made her appreciate the delicate flowers all the more.

"An' ee durty likkle maid you'm be, thy claws makin' big tunnels for ee big Tessa-floyr, boi okey! What'n ee be doin' a-diggen ee garden?"

Tess smiled sheepishly, rubbing a dirty claw on the back of her neck. "Oi weren't a-troyin' ter dig oop ee garden, marm," she answered honestly. "Oi were a-makin' ee tunnul ter reach ee cellars. Moi gurt fren' Rook bet Oi culdn't make ee tunnul from ee walls to ee cellars."

She glanced around, as if afraid the grounds keeper might show up any moment. "If Oi fill in ee tunnul, will ee keeper still be gurtly mad?" she asked in a low murmur. She didn't want to make the grounds keeper mad, but she also didn't want to leave a gaping tunnel open in case somebeast fell into it.

[nikki]

"Boi okey, marm," she exclaimed. "Ee be's ee wiser ter know all 'bout ee floyrs, ee be. No wunner Oi loiks ee floyrs. Do ee fink yon molers turn into ee floyrs arter a-livin' ee loif?" 

"Oi've heered ee tales loike taht," Moira said, tone conspiratorial as she leaned toward the maid. "Oi heered tale o ' ee moleymaid who'm turned into ee floyr a-waitin' for ee gennulman t'come home. Hurr, mayhap ee crawly-floyrs be's her young'uns, all a-tunnelin' loike ee mum."

She nodded as she listened to Tessa's explanation, eyes twinkling.

"Yon harebeest be a-losin' ee bet, missy. Iff'n ee moler sets to make ee tunnel, ee tunnel gets made, it serpintly do!"

Moira laughed heartily, rolling her habit sleeves back.

"He'm might be sore, burr aye, but iffen you'm be's workin' to fix thy mess, p'rhaps ee groundskeeper woan be so gurtly mad. Come noaw, missy, Oi'll helpen ee fix yon tunnel."

[Rook]

"Oi've heered ee tales loike taht," Moira said, tone conspiratorial as she leaned toward the maid. "Oi heered tale o ' ee moleymaid who'm turned into ee floyr a-waitin' for ee gennulman t'come home. Hurr, mayhap ee crawly-floyrs be's her young'uns, all a-tunnelin' loike ee mum."

"Hurr, hurr," Tessa chuckled, tucking the daisy into the old pink ribbon wrapped around her bicep. "Oi'd durly loik ter bee ee floyr arter Oi liver'd moi loif. Wot koind o' ee floyr wudd Oi be, marm?" Would Tessa be a pretty flower after she died? She'd love to become a rose, or maybe a sunflower.

"Yon harebeest be a-losin' ee bet, missy. Iff'n ee moler sets to make ee tunnel, ee tunnel gets made, it serpintly do!"

Tessa laughed again, nodding agreement. "Boi okey, marm, et serpintly do!" she agreed. "Oi were nurly 'arfway, hurr, hurr. Yon floyrs catchered moi oi's." Shaking a little more loam off her coffee-brown fur, the young mole tightened the bandages around her wide hind paws.

"He'm might be sore, burr aye, but iffen you'm be's workin' to fix thy mess, p'rhaps ee groundskeeper woan be so gurtly mad. Come noaw, missy, Oi'll helpen ee fix yon tunnel."

"Oi'm durly grateful to ee, marm," Tess said, pushing a mound of soil back towards the open tunnel. "Yon Rook be's a-waitin' in ee cellars for Oi t' show oop, ee be. Oi b'ain't goin' t' stop moi tunnulin', but Oi doan wont ee keeper sore wid Oi." She nodded to herself as she scooped more dirt back into the gaping hole. "Ee be's ee noice keeper. Oi wunce runned o'er ee keeper an' broke ee floyrpots. Oi were gurtly sorry, marm, an' ee keeper forgiver'd Oi so noice."

It was no secret that Tessa Rex was clumsy. Her nickname, Wrecks Everything, was known around the abbey. She didn't like the name at all, but she really was pretty bad at watching where she was going, sometimes . . .

[nikki]

"You'm be roight luvly likkle floyr, Tessa."

Moira smiled, giving the maid's snout a gentle, affectionate tap before she set to work. The seamstress Sister's thin claws were not as good for earthwork as other moles... but their standards were different from otherbeats, and the rate at which she churned earth back into the tunnel would have impressed a mouse or squirrel.

"Sooner we'uns fill ee tunnel, sooner yon Rook c'n lose ee bet, hurr aye!" She nodded firmly, tamping down dirt.

"Ee groundskeeper knowed you'm doan mean et, Tessa." She stroked the maid's head soothingly. "Any sensubul beest cud see you'm a gurt noice moleymaid, never mean ee harm. Ho, and you'm fillin ee tunnel quickloike, ee c'n 'preciate et gurtly, p'rhaps ask ee noice moleymaid fur help once thy bet is won."

Moira straighted, dusting her claws.

"Noaw - thy clothes're in ee roight state, missy! You'm be cummin to Oi later, aye?"

[Rook]

"Noaw - thy clothes're in ee roight state, missy! You'm be cummin to Oi later, aye?"

Tessa finished filling the tunnel and glanced down at her ripped, ruined clothing. She giggled. "Hurr, hurr, et be's ee soin a' moi diggen, et be's, marm," she said with more than a hint of pride. "Oi wurr ee ol' garmunt so Oi doan make moi 'abit dirty, burr, aye."

She plucked at the front of her once-white shirt in thought. "Tho' Oi'd not be at ee loss iff'n Oi got ee patches somewurrs," she mused. There were some unsightly holes in both her breeches and her shirt. Perhaps for modesty's sake she should get some of them sewn up. She knew of Miora's skills as a seamstress, so it would probably be in her best interests to take the older molemaid up on the offer.

"Wudd ee fix moi garment iff'n Oi took ee to ee cellars, marm?" Tess asked. "Oi doan wont t' miss moi bet wid Rook, an' Oi cudd foind ee some luverly drinks, Oi cudd."

[nikki]

"Oi wurr ee ol' garmunt so Oi doan make moi 'abit dirty, burr, aye."

"You'm be a wise likkle moler, ee do." Moira nodded once, pleased at Tess' foresight in the matter as she gently pulled a ragged thread from the garment with one careful digging claw.

At the mention of patches she walked around Tessa in a circle, considering.

"Oi spect Oi can find ee patches for et. Bits left'd do ee, aye, p'rhaps with floyr patterns. tunnul like ee floyr an' look like ee floyr, ee'd be a foine sight fur all ee Abbey, boi okey!" She nodded again, chuckling.

"Ee cellar'd be a roight noice place, missy. Oi'll meet ee there'bouts, an' take ee drink iffen ee loiks moi company."

[Rook]

"Ee cellar'd be a roight noice place, missy. Oi'll meet ee there'bouts, an' take ee drink iffen ee loiks moi company."

Tessa beamed. "Boi okey, marm, ee be's ee noice moleymaid, ee be's," she gushed, excited at the prospect of flowers embroidered on her digging shirt. "Oi'll meet ee in yon cellars 'fore ee cudd say 'diggen', burr, hurr, aye."

((Slight time-skip))

Tessa emerged, covered in loam, into a dark cavernous room. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the slightly brighter lighting. She finally realized that she had in fact made it to the cellars. It must be one of the farthest spots from the entrance, though, as she had planned. The stonework for the floors didn't extend all the way beneath the cellars (she was pretty sure they had been expanded at some point), so she had had to come up in the back reaches.

Hoisting herself out of her tunnel, she shook off as much dirt and grime as would come and made her way to the front part of the cellars. Rook the hare awaited her, perched on a barrel as wide as he was tall, softly playing his violin. Tessa strode proudly into view, and giggled mole-style when she saw the look of incredulity on his face.

"Ee lost ee bet, zurr," she laughed as the hare dropped down beside her. The mute creature pantomimed a chuckle and patted her on the back in congratulations. He then gestured to the barrels and kegs surrounding them. She had won the right to enjoy a private concert from Rook, while sipping her favorite drink, of course. "Oi'd loik ee strawburry fizz, zurr."

Rook bowed exaggeratedly, setting his violin down on an upturned keg and scurrying off to fetch the drink. Tessa took a seat on a larger barrel and accepted the cool, fizzy drink when the hare returned and offered it to her. The two friends shared a smile, and then Rook got ready to play. But he stopped as he heard a noise. Tess heard it, too, and the noise got louder, turning into the telltale sound of paw steps on the stairs to the cellars.

"Coom in, 'ooever ee be!" Tess called. "Ee doan wont t' miss ee moozic frum Rook!"

[nikki]

"Coom in, 'ooever ee be!" Tess called. "Ee doan wont t' miss ee moozic frum Rook!"

"Ho aye, it'ud be ee gurt trajerdy, indeed it would!"

Moira shuffled into view, clad in a fresh habit and arms loaded with scraps of cloth from which Tessa could choose what she liked best for patches. Striping, spotted scraps, leaves, and even - as promised - pretty floral patterns peeked out from the pile; the seamstress set them down and gave Tessa a quick, friendly smile of greeting before tugging her snout to Rook, beaming.

"Oi wager ee losten yon bet, zurr, 'tis no good betten 'gainst moleymaids on tunnuls, hurr! But you'm never be losen at ee moozic, you'm serpintly doan!"

She beamed at the hare musician as she helped herself to a bit of dandelion cordial and then sat beside her pile of potential patches, eagerly awaiting the beginning of the performance. It was sure to be a treat, after all; Rook was a talented bowbeast, so to speak, and a tune from him was nothing to pass up lightly.

[Rook]

"Oi wager ee losten yon bet, zurr, 'tis no good betten 'gainst moleymaids on tunnuls, hurr! But you'm never be losen at ee moozic, you'm serpintly doan!"

Rook smiled sheepishly, shrugging in happy acquiescence. Tessa greeted the sister with a wave of her six-fingered digging claw. "Ee be's ee luverly moozic player, burr aye," she agreed. Marveling at all the pretty patterns of cloth, the young mole picked up a red and orange floral printed scrap. "Boi okey, marm, ee may be's needin' all ee partches to fix moi diggen garments, burr, aye."

Rook pantomimed laughing again at her comment. And the he began to play. It was a lively yet lilting tune. It beckoned smiles and somberness at the same time. Rook was good at playing melodies like that. In fact, they were his favorite. They made him want to dance. And dance he did.

Twirling, hopping, jigging, and sliding to the music, the young hare managed to avoid colliding with any of his surroundings. It was a talent he had worked long and hard at, but one he thoroughly enjoyed performing.

[nikki]

"Boi okey, marm, ee may be's needin' all ee partches to fix moi diggen garments, burr, aye."

"We'll use oop all we need, missy, an' you'll be a roight likkle garden, hurr hurr!"

She chortled at that as she got comfortable, bright black eyes gazing expectantly up at Rook. Moira was calm and still as she listened to the performance, only moving once the hare began dancing in earnest. Even then the mole seamstress did not move from her spot, merely tapping digging claws gently against the floor. Her drink sat beside her, forgotten as she paid rapt attention to the hare.

It was like a spell, and one she was loathe to break with words, unnecessary movement, or even breathing too harshly.

[Rook]

Rook finished his performance with a flying twirl, landing perfectly balanced atop a short barrel. With a flourish, he bowed low, a roguish smile playing around his silent lips. Tessa clapped long and loud, her velvety snout wrinkled in a delighted smile.

"Boi okey, zurr Rook," she gushed. "Ee neber a dull moment wif ee 'round, burr aye." Rook removed his wine-colored cap and held it to his heart, tilting his ears back as he smiled in gratitude to his mole friend. Hopping down from the keg, he set his violin on the small table near the scraps of cloth.

He glanced at Tess and noted the state of her clothing. Giving a light bob of his head in understanding, the hare clasped his paws behind his back, interested to see how Sister Miora would handle patching up Tess's old garments.

"Oi do durly loiks this'un, marm," the younger mole said, picking up a scrap printed all over with sunflowers. "Cudd ee put this'un on ee front o' moi shirt?"

[nikki]

"Boi okey, zurr Rook," she gushed. "Ee neber a dull moment wif ee 'round, burr aye."

"Boi okey et ain't" Moira echoed the other mole, nodding vigorously as she clapped for Rook, the bonespurs on her paws making a curious sound in the cellar's echoes. Her attention drifted to Tessa then, and the Sister smiled as she watched the industrious tomboy picking through the scraps.

"Oi do durly loiks this'un, marm," the younger mole said, picking up a scrap printed all over with sunflowers. "Cudd ee put this'un on ee front o' moi shirt?"

"Aye missy, an' a foine sunnyfloyr yoo'll be, ho aye!"

The seamstress she her spectacles atop her snout then, inspecting the scraps.

"Yon daisy fur ee back? An' foine likke rosers... we'll make ee sleeve of et iff'n yoo loike."

She kept working and planning, occasionally pausing to measure the holes and tears in the garment with an expert touch.

[Rook]

"Yon daisy fur ee back? An' foine likke rosers... we'll make ee sleeve of et iff'n yoo loike."

Tessa thought for a moment about the sleeves, and then she shook her head. "Nay, marm," she replied. "Oi'd on'y rip ee sleeves oop." Rook nodded agreement, studying the sunflower print for a moment. He knew of Sister Miora's talents as a seamstress, as Tessa did. In fact, he was thinking about asking her to mend that habit he owned (somewhere in the back of his closet) so he could wear it on special occasions.

Suddenly, Tessa blushed, and she looked from her hare friend to the older molemaid. She leaned in close to Miora. "Marm," she murmured so Rook couldn't hear. "Do ee need Oi t'take moi garment off? Oi'd need t'foind moi 'abit if ee do."

[nikki]

"Oi'd on'y rip ee sleeves oop."

"Aye, that's so." Moira nodded slowly. "Those'uns wud be first t'go."

"Do ee need Oi t'take moi garment off? Oi'd need t'foind moi 'abit if ee do."

"Aye, missy." The sister smiled, nodding, as she continued her measuring work. "Oi doan want t'stick ee with moi needles, t'wudden do."

She straightened, smiling at the molemaid.

"We'uns can meet later fur et, so you c'n find thy 'abit an' hand thy diggen clothes over. Oi'll not spoil ee dirt, missy."

The evidence of her digs seemed to be important to Tessa after all.

[Rook]

"Aye, missy." The sister smiled, nodding, as she continued her measuring work. "Oi doan want t'stick ee with moi needles, t'wudden do."

Tessa nodded, chortling lightly. "Oi'd loik naught a needle in Oi, marm," she replied. Though she knew the seamstress mole was an expert at her work, it would definitely be easier for Miora if Tessa was not in the clothes she was patching up.

"We'uns can meet later fur et, so you c'n find thy 'abit an' hand thy diggen clothes over. Oi'll not spoil ee dirt, missy."

Tessa's smile could have gone twice around her velvety snout. "Boi okey, Oi thankee, marm," she gushed, glad that Miora recognized how important those dirt stains were to her. Rook pantomimed chuckling, picking up his instrument and giving a cordial bow to the females.

He then exited the cellars, but Tessa stopped him. "Rookers, whurr ee be's goin'?" The hare pointed to Great Hall and pretended to wield his violin bow like a sword. That was his sign for Broden. He and Tessa had developed a system of signs he could use for certain things or creatures. The molemaid nodded in understanding. "Okey, Rookers, Oi'll see ee later!"

"Now, Mizz Miora," she said. "Oi c'n foind moi 'abit an' get moi diggen garments to ee soon. Thankee agin fore fixen 'em oop!"

((Mm, sorry, Nikki. If you wanna end here, that's fine with me.))

[nikki]

"Now, Mizz Miora," she said. "Oi c'n foind moi 'abit an' get moi diggen garments to ee soon. Thankee agin fore fixen 'em oop!"

Moira chuckled, bowing.

"Tis moi pleasure, mizzy - now you'm run along an' Oi'll meet thee for ee gurmints later, eh?"

The mole beamed, starting to shuffle her way out of the cellar. This would be a fun little project - Tessa could be transformed into a right proper littl flower for the next time she turned up in the gardens!

Moira was, after all, quite certain that there would be a next time.

((Sorry! |D I didn't even see that you'd posted! But yes, tis indeed a good stopping place.))