Insistence ((Broden, open))

[Rook]

Rook held his violin and bow close to his chest as he hurried along the corridors. He was glad his black fur hid the bright red blush creeping into his cheeks. Why, oh, why on earth had he agreed to something so idiotic? Skidding around a corner and nearly losing his balance, he dropped down the stairs two at a time. He managed to avoid falling flat on his face at the bottom of the stairway and quickly turned into Great Hall.

Where to go next? The hyena-like laughter echoing behind him alerted the hare of the terrible twins right on his trail. Mentally cursing his ill luck and his gullibility this morning, Rook headed for Cavern Hole and ducked down behind an overstuffed chair. Cyle and Trace would be the end of him yet. . .

The squirrel twins burst into Great Hall, still laughing their heads off. That hare was way too easy to convince. It almost wasn't fair to him. They each carried a paintbrush dipped in black ink, but most of the ink had been used up already. Oh, that old otter was going to throttle them when he discovered his new mustache and spectacles. This prank was just the first of many scheduled for the rest of the day.

"Rooooooook," Cyle called sweetly into the massive Hall. She giggled, tucking her dry paintbrush into the waist chord around her middle. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! We want to congratulate you on your stunning performance!"

Trace erupted into hoots of laughter, unable to speak for giggling so much. He stuffed his own paintbrush into a back pocket, leaning on his knees as his laughter continued. Wiping his tears of mirth away, he began helping his sister search for the hare, but there was no sign of him in Great Hall. Had he gone into Cavern Hole?

Rook tried to get his breathing under control as he crouched behind the chair. Him, a twenty-four-year-old hare hiding from thirteen-year-old squirrels. This was utterly pathetic. But he didn't want to be blamed for something he hadn't done.

Cyle had said the old otter wanted some music to help him doze off. Rook had obliged, but when the ink-loaded brushes had come out, it was no longer a kind gesture to one of the elder abbey-dwellers. To avoid being convicted by association, the hare had to keep away from the squirrels for as long as possible. He needed to find parchment on which to present his case. He was innocent!

He had actually been finishing his chores (for once) when Cyle and Trace had walked up to him, smiling disarmingly. They described the state of the old otter, and Rook had felt so bad for the elder, and it had all seemed like the twins were really concerned . . . their acting skills were unrivaled. It just wasn't fair! How dare they tempt him with performing on his violin. They knew his weak spots . . . The little brutes.

Peeking around the back of the chair, Rook wondered if the squirrels had picked up on his trail yet. There was no beast at the entrance, so maybe they had left and searched elsewhere? Still holding tightly onto his prized instrument, the hare edged further out of cover, unaware of the two pairs of gleaming eyes watching him from behind.

"ROOK!!" the twins yelled. The hare jumped five feet in the air, his fur standing on end as he whirled around in shock. Retreating back a few paces, Rook fell flat on his scut, dropping his violin and losing his prized wine-colored cap. His tall ears flattened against his skull as the twins burst into giggles again.

A hot blush colored the hare's face once more as he sat there on the hard stone floor, his rump smarting from his fall. He sent the twins a look of utter reproach and started gathering up his instrument, checking it for damage.

"Why, Rooky, you don't look happy at all," Cyle taunted, feigning concern. "Don't you feel good about helping that poor old otter drop off?" Rook glared at her, wishing he could speak as he picked up his cap and situated it smartly between his ears once more. Trace sneered awfully, still chuckling.

"I for one, feel much better after that little act of kindness," he declared imperially. "And I--" His voice caught in his throat as his eyes suddenly glazed over. Cyle's face went blank, and she leaned on her brother, grasping his paw. She fished out a brass compass pendant from beneath her dress, and they both held on tightly to the chain. Rook looked up at their abrupt silence and was surprised to see them on the verge of collapsing. What kind of trickery was this?

The twins had an odd faraway look on their faces as they began to speak in unison. "A lone hedgehog, powerfully built, stands before a tapestry. His limbs are thick with muscle, his spines sharp and tipped with black. Extra spines protrude from his brawny arms and sinewy paws. He is clad in a maroon tunic, brown breeches, and thick boots. His eyes appear as green glass shattered over piercing brown. His fur, a dull tan, is soft and unbroken by scars, save the deep mark along his left arm. His expression is one of confidence and courage, and he carries a glittering silver sword set with a red pommel stone. He is a champion."

And then it was over. Rook stood up in just enough time to catch the young squirrels as they fell forward heavily, their eyelids drooping. Cyle sighed wearily and hugged Rook around the middle. Trace moaned and leaned on the hare's shoulder.

"C'n we go t' bed?" Cyle asked. "M'rilly tired." Trace nodded in agreement, yawning widely. Rook was still reeling from the twins revelation. They had just described--! He had to find his friend! He knew of the twins' abilities as seers, but he'd never actually witnessed them receiving a vision before. He also knew that their visions hadn't been wrong yet. He had to find his friend!

He nodded hastily and gently shooed the squirrels up the stairs in the direction of the dormitories. He made sure they got to their rooms, and then he raced off down the hall. Dropping off his violin in his own room he began to search for his friend Broden. Of all days when he needed a voice and didn't have one . . .

Hurrying outside, Rook cast about for any sign of the big hedgehog. Crossing paths with a lone squirrel, he wrote "Broden" in the air with his fingers. The squirrel shook his head, shrugged, and walked away. Rook cursed silently and moved on, searching the grounds and the ramparts. He had to find that hedgehog! How hard could it be to find the tallest one in Redwall abbey?

Sprinting back inside, he narrowly avoided a collision with another squirrel carrying a tray of food. Leaping back up the stairs, he wondered why he hadn't checked up here before going outside. Coming across a young otter, he once again wrote his friend's name in the air. The otter directed him towards another hallway and Rook nodded his thanks.

Finally, he saw the hedgehog. Letting out a breath of relief, he carefully placed a paw on Broden's spiky arm. Come on, Rook mouthed, getting the big creature's attention with a firm tug. He needed to find some parchment, or maybe Cyle and Trace would relate the vision again. Either way, Broden had to know about it immediately.

[T-Bone]

"Can I leave now?" Broden sighed. He was standing at the door of the infirmary, attempting to turn and promptly exit.

Brother Halifax harrumphed as he grabbed Broden's shoulder and turned him back around. "No, you certainly may not!" declared the mouse. "Unless you intend to retire to your bed immediately, you're not to leave this room, Mr. Spikediggle."

Broden grunted impatiently as the infirmary keeper tried to adjust a loose bandage on the hedgehog's face. "Look, Ah'm fine! Honestly, Brother!" Honestly, he wasn't quite as fine as he claimed. He was furious.

A mere three suns had come and gone since that stupid stoat had showed up at the abbey. And it took but a third of that time to light Broden's short fuse. Rook had been there most of the time, and that had been the only thing keeping Broden from throttling the vermin scum. But when the stoat deliberately tripped a mouse over a petty thing like food, Broden lost it. As it turned out, the stoat was a decent fighter, and the scuffle quickly turned into a brawl. Broden took quite a few blows before ending it with one heavy punch to the stoat's face. At that point, it was pretty good day. But, of course, as fate would have it, Broden tripped down the stairs on his way to the infirmary.

Now, having awakened from an unplanned two-hour nap, all he wanted to do was go escort the vermin out of the abbey, assuming it hadn't already been done for him. But Halifax simply wouldn't have it.

And Broden wouldn't have Halifax not having it.

The burly hedgehog folded his arms. "There's nae need tae worry aboot me, Halifax, Ah've taken much worse falls'n that, an' ye know it!"

Halifax touched his spectacles and shook his head decisively. "You're about as fit to work as a toad is to fly." He pointed to the bed sternly. "Bed."

A smirk stole onto Broden's face. "Yes, it is a bed. But--"

Just then, he felt a tug on his arm. Broden paused and turned to find Rook at the door. The mute hare looked rather urgent. Come on, Rook mouthed. Broden nodded curtly and returned his attention to Brother Halifax. "Aha! Look, see? Ah'm needed! Let me go wi' Rook, please, Mister 'alifax." He spoke more politely, as a might a dibbun trying to earn favor with an elder.

Halifax shook his head emphatically. "You'll do no such thing, Broden. You're in no shape to go anywhere with anyone-- Rook." Halifax looked pointedly at the hare in question. "He's not to leave this room, is that understood?"

Broden tilted his head back in exasperation. "Baaaaaaaah," he gurgled. "Yore such a borin' ol' toad!"

"Excuse me?"

"That's exactly what ye are; yore a toad."

"Mister Broden, I--"

"What, Rook? What is it?" the hedgehog demanded of the hare who kept trying to get his attention.

[Rook]

Rook had completely forgotten about Broden's being in the infirmary. The black hare suddenly felt a little rude, having to barge in like this. Brother Halifax was clearly not pleased with the interruption to Broden's healing process. But the twins' vision . . .

"What, Rook? What is it?" the hedgehog demanded of the hare who kept trying to get his attention.

Releasing Broden's arm, Rook quickly tried to think of the best way to explain himself. Before Halifax could get furious with him and the big hedgehog (well, more furious, anyway), the black hare traced the word 'Cyle' in the air, followed by 'Trace'. He then pantomimed like he was swinging a sword, pointing at Broden a few times and then indicating the direction of Great Hall.

His answer was a blank stare. At least from Halifax. Though the hare could detect more than a hint of irritability behind the blank stare. "Mr. Dare, would you kindly allow my patient to get. Back. In. Bed?" the mouse asked, practically commanded, through gritted teeth. Yeesh, how could such a frail-looking old mouse be so intimidating?

Okay, in all fairness, Rook's motions hadn't been very clear. Let's try this again. Rook glanced up at the ceiling, trying to figure out another way. Uh . . . Oh! Paper! With frantic movements, the hare pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper that had managed to remain in the black sash across his chest. Snatching a charcoal stick off the counter nearby, he wrote down his message in loose, hurried scribbles.

'Cyle and Trace were chasing me and had a vision of you in front of the tapestry with a sword and armor. They said you were a champion, Broden.'

He held up the paper for Broden to read, practically bouncing on his hind paws. Come on, hurry up and read it! This is important! Father Rommel should know about this, don't you think? Oh, if only Rook could speak! His thoughts were bubbling over from excitement. Would have have to get the twins out of bed to have them explain the vision again? Come on, Broden!

[T-Bone]

Cyle, Trace, lots of arm flailing, Broden, and more arm flailing. That was all Broden got out of Rook's game of charades.

Fortunately, the hare came to his senses and scribbled something down on a small sheet of paper. Excitedly, the mute showed it to Broden. The hedgehog had to move his head up and down to properly make the words, and-- Oh, enough of that! He placed a firm paw on Rook's shoulder and removed the paper from Rook's grasp with the other paw. His heart stopped.

"Cyle and Trace had a vision of you in front of the tapestry with a sword and armor. They said you were a champion, Broden."

He looked up from the words at Rook, as though to say, "Are you serious?" Broden, dumbfounded, looked at Halifax. ". . . He says the twins had a vision. They said Ah'm a champion. . ." Whether or not Halifax considered this reason enough to let Broden leave, the hedgehog would never know, for he was already pounding down the stairs. By the time it had occurred to him that he didn't know where he was going, he'd reached the tapestry. He stopped and thought about going back to find Rook, but he paused as his eyes found the woven image of Martin the Warrior.

Now, there was a hero. . .

[Rook]

Rook dodged out of the way as Broden exited the infirmary in a rush. Oh, thank goodness! He did understand the urgency of this situation! Halifax, however, spluttered indignantly, making to go after Broden. "Oh, if he messes that bandage," the mouse grumbled. Rook stopped the infirmary keeper with a paw on his arm, smiling disarmingly.

Then the hare too, dashed off after his friend, leaving Halifax standing, dumbfounded and furious, in the sick bay. Rook skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairway into Great Hall, breathing heavily. Seasons, he was doing a lot of running, today. Trying to catch his breath, he kept his distance. Broden was obviously having a moment before the tapestry.

What did Martin say to heroes like Broden? Rook wondered. Obviously, things of great importance, or else the heroes wouldn't be very good heroes. What was Martin telling Broden? Was he even speaking to the big hedgehog? Rook hoped so. Surely Martin recognized a good hero when he saw one. Rook could practically see the shining sword singing in Broden's big paws. What a sight that would be!

Eventually, the hare got his second wind, and he quietly walked up next to his friend. You are a Champion, Broden, Rook wanted to say. You didn't need the twins or me to tell you that. Instead, he smiled confidently, looking up at the armor-clad mouse, and then back at his friend. His tall ears flicked to one side uncertainly, shifting the position of his wine-colored cap. What was Broden thinking?

[T-Bone]

Martin the Warrior. To think, a single mouse could make such an impact on the world. Even now, hundreds of seasons later, warriors still looked up to him. Broden, still only an aspiring warrior, held this mouse in the highest regard. What must it have been like? To live a life that would inspire beasts, young and old, for generations to come?...

Broden blinked, noticing Rook for the first time. "Rook," he said. . . Well, that wasn't much of a statement. Maybe something different. "Where are the twins?" Much better.

((Glug. Short.))

[Rook]

"Rook,"he said. . . Well, that wasn't much of a statement. Maybe something different. "Where are the twins?"

Rook flicked an ear back. He knew that was coming. Well, at least the squirrel miscreants wouldn't be too irritable after being woken up. . . Hopefully. The black hare pantomimed being asleep and jerked his thumb in the direction of the dormitories. For the sake of his and the rest of the abbey's sanity, that had better be where they still were.

He beckoned to Broden, not sure if his hedgehog friend knew where the twins slept. Just then, an elder otter came storming down the stairs, black spectacles and mustache painted on his face fur. Rook's ears dropped back. Uh-oh . . .

"Yew, hare!" the elder snapped, jabbing a wrinkled paw into Rook's chest. "Whur them two troublemakers be, eh?" Rook shrugged and lifted his paws in bafflement, smiling a little too widely. The hare quickly skirted the old otter, grabbing Broden's arm and pulling him along.

"I knowed yew was there, Blacky!" the otter called after them. "Yew ain't inna clear jus' yet!" Rook's smile turned into a worried grimace as he picked up his pace. Great, even though the twins had more or less tricked him into it, he was still in trouble. Oh, this was pathetic!

He released Broden's arm only when they reached the second floor hallway. Letting out a silent breath of relief, he tried to relax his I'm-so-completely-guilty grin. Hoping his bright blush wasn't returning, the hare led the way to the twins' room. Why was he doing this again? Oh, right . . . Broden. Had to remember that. Broden was more important than how Rook felt about the twins.

Finally, they reached the right door, and Rook rapped his knuckles gently upon the wood. He received no answer. Oh, seasons take it . . . He turned the knob and walked right in. Cyle and Trace were actually sleeping. That was a surprise to him. He thought they'd be up and about by now, causing more havoc.

But they heard the door open. Cyle opened her eyes a little. "Go 'way," she mumbled. "M'tryin'a sleep . . ." She turned over in her bed, snuggling down into her covers. Trace didn't even oblige the visitors with words. He simply snorted once and buried his face into his pillow. Rook stood undecided, both ears at half mast. Would the twins even remember their vision?

[T-Bone]

"I knowed yew was there, Blacky!" the otter called after them. "Yew ain't inna clear jus' yet!" Rook's smile turned into a worried grimace as he picked up his pace.

Broden tried to keep up with Rook. "Uh, what was that--?" he started to ask. But it was really no use asking Rook anything at this point. He just had to follow the mute and decipher the clues as they went along.

Finally, they reached the right door, and Rook rapped his knuckles gently upon the wood. They heard the door open. Cyle opened her eyes a little. "Go 'way," she mumbled. "M'tryin'a sleep . . ." She turned over in her bed, snuggling down into her covers. Trace didn't even oblige the visitors with words. He simply snorted once and buried his face into his pillow. Rook stood undecided, both ears at half mast.

Broden smirked. He turned to Rook, nudging the hare, and raised his eyebrows, as though to say, "Heheh, I got this.

The burly hedgehog made his way to the bedside and took both squirrels by the scruffs of their necks, hauling them bodily from the beds. "Time tae wake up, ye two," he grunted, attempting to upright the squirrels and set them on their footpaws. "Ahh, stow that complainin'. It's five in the arternoon -- ye cannae be that tired." He accidentally dropped one, so he instead turned to the other. "Tell us aboot the vision ye had. It's very important, aye?"

[Rook]

"Time tae wake up, ye two," he grunted, attempting to upright the squirrels and set them on their footpaws. "Ahh, stow that complainin'. It's five in the arternoon -- ye cannae be that tired." He accidentally dropped one, so he instead turned to the other. "Tell us aboot the vision ye had. It's very important, aye?"

Cyle rubbed her eyes, scowling up at the big hedgehog. Trace had fallen back onto his own bed, but his sister yanked on his arm. "M'whut?" he whined. "Why d'ya need'a know 'bout a stupid vision?"

"Sure, s'important, whatever," Cyle murmured, sitting down on the edge of her bed. Folding her arms over her chest, she added, "Don't 'member it, anyway . . ." Trace shook himself, flicking one ear to the side as he tried to recall.

"Were a big hedgehog . . . oh, yeh, yew was innit," the male twin said after a moment.

"You had a big sword," Cyle put in, her memory serving her better than she'd previously stated. "Martin's sword, maybe."

"Wore a cloak, I think," Trace said.

"Stood in front a' the tapestry," Cyle said. Then they shrugged in unison. "That's it," the female finished.

Dizzy from switching his attention back and forth between the squirrels, Rook tried to recall what it was the twins had really said during their vision. Well, all they'd done was describe Broden holding Martin's sword. They hadn't predicted a future battle, nor had they even said when Broden would be named the Champion. The hare nodded in satisfaction. Tired and irritable as they were, the twins hadn't lied.

[T-Bone]

Broden furrowed his brow. So they'd had a vision of him standing in front of the tapestry with a sword and a cloak? That wasn't much, really, but it was something. And they must have, at some point, specifically called Broden "champion," because that was all Rook had told him when trying to get Broden's attention. Too bad there hadn't been more to it; Broden had been hoping Martin the Warrior was involved somehow. I mean, how great would it be if Martin himself named Broden champion?

Ah well, no use crying over spilled milk, or a lack thereof. It was time to focus on the significance of what had been in the vision. He wasn't entirely sure what, exactly, they should do with the information now that they had it. I mean, sure, they were excited about it, but what now? Broden voiced his thoughts out loud. "Y'think we shoould tell Father Rommel?" he asked Rook. Rook was usually the voice of reason, which was kinda funny, now that Broden thought about it...

[Warhound]

"I just bumped into a very angry otter with a mustache in the hallway, you two didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"

The calm, casual voice of Lhiam Coor MacCloud broke the oddly quiet atmosphere, the blonde, spiky-furred squirrel entering the room with some curiosity. Well this was a strange gathering, wasn't it? First off, there was Broden looking puzzled, Rook looking a little dizzy, and both devious squirrel twins looking oddly exhausted. What had happened while he'd been down at the gatehouse? Had Rook and Broden spent their evening chasing those two squirrels from here to the Dark Forest?
Coor didn't ask right away.
Instead, he shifted his gaze from the trouble makers to Rook and Broden, studying their expressions in the dormitory light. "Something's on you're mind, care to let me in this?" From what he'd caught in the door way, they had mentioned something about a tapestry and Father Rommel.
Did this have anything to do with Martin the Warrior?

Coor's bright blue eyes gleamed at the thought. Wouldn't that be interesting? Just what they needed, a message from good ol' Martin! Way to make the end of autumn really special, eh?

[Rook]

"Y'think we shoould tell Father Rommel?" he asked Rook.

The hare's expression turned to a mix of incredulity and mild frustration. One ear rotated back, and he lifted his big paws a little as if to say, 'Uh, yes!' Even if Martin hadn't specifically named Broden the champion, Father Rommel would surely understand how imperative this was. Cyle and Trace's vision track record was pretty solid, from what he'd heard.

Rook was about to leave the room when Coor suddenly blocked the doorway. While the hare was happy to see his friend again, he and Broden need to see the abbot right away. Giving a nod and smile of acknowledgement to Coor, Rook tried to move around him, but he froze in his tracks with the squirrel's first words.

"I just bumped into a very angry otter with a mustache in the hallway, you two didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"

That guilty blush colored Rook's cheeks so brightly it was surely visible even under his dark fur. The twins gave each other wicked, albeit tired, grins and returned to their respective beds. The black hare shot both of them a venomous glare. Before the squirrel miscreants got settled, they snickered at his anger. He was so gullible, it almost wasn't fair! Turning back to Coor, the hare shook his head slowly, his ears dropping back and his red eyes darting aside. He was glad when the squirrel changed the subject.

"Something's on you're mind, care to let me in this?"

Rook nodded, casting about for another sheet of paper. Why didn't Cyle and Trace have any in their room? Curse this muteness. He looked to Broden, eyes pleading a bit, prompting him to explain.

[T-Bone]

The hare's expression turned to a mix of incredulity and mild frustration. One ear rotated back, and he lifted his big paws a little as if to say, 'Uh, yes!'

Broden opened his mouth to respond, but then Lhiam showed up. Oh, good! Broden had been meaning to talk to that squirrel. Lhiam owed Broden a rematch after their last fight, which had been so rudely interrupted by Sister Filbrum. Granted, one of the dibbuns had clambered up onto the roof of the belltower for no apparent reason and found himself unable to get down, but certainly she could have resolved the matter without breaking up Lhiam and Broden's boxing match? ...Come to think of it, she had a point.

"I just bumped into a very angry otter with a mustache in the hallway, you two didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"

Broden turned to Rook. What was that about, anyway? Oh, never mind that! There was a vision to relay to the abbot, and it was very important.

Apparently, Lhiam caught on to the weight of the matter.

"Something's on you're mind, care to let me in this?"

Rook looked at Broden, who explained, "Aye, the twins here had a vision. Somethin' aboot me an' a sword an' a tapestry -- Rook says they said Ah'm a 'champion.' " He tried to keep his demeanor as casual as possible, but it really wasn't working. He was fidgeting with excitement. "But Martin wasnae actually innet, but still. Sae, we're gonna go tell Father Rommel, er, right?" He glanced at Rook. Yeah, stupid question. Back to Lhiam. "Aye, we are. We are goin' tae tell... Rommel." He nodded to himself. Obviously, he wasn't thinking as clearly as he should. Probably had something to do with the blows to the head...

[Warhound]

Rook looked at Broden, who explained, "Aye, the twins here had a vision. Somethin' aboot me an' a sword an' a tapestry -- Rook says they said Ah'm a 'champion.' " He tried to keep his demeanor as casual as possible, but it really wasn't working. He was fidgeting with excitement. "But Martin wasnae actually innet, but still. Sae, we're gonna go tell Father Rommel, er, right?" He glanced at Rook. Yeah, stupid question. Back to Lhiam. "Aye, we are. We are goin' tae tell... Rommel."

Well now! That was a little more like it!
Coor could see the excitement in the brawny hedgehog's eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a little excited for him. 'Redwall Champion' was never a title he had sought after, so he could whole-heartedly support and feel happy for his friend. "Ahh..." The blonde squirrel nodded in agreement when Broden mentioned Father Rommel. Speaking with the Abbot was probably a good idea -- but honestly, Coor wasn't sure what sort of suggestion the kindly abbot could offer them.
"Why don't you ask Martin himself?"
It seemed like a crazy thing to say, but when you lived at Redwall, it wasn't long before you discovered that where a particular warrior mouse was involved, anything was possible. Glancing to the twins, Coor was a bit curious about their...abilities. For creatures who spent their time at Redwall getting people to do anything but trust them, it was unusual for them to 'speak the truth', even if they did so in a...trance-like manner.
Huh.
He'd have a few questions for those too later... Right now, they needed to see if there was any truth to their visions.

[Rook]

"Why don't you ask Martin himself?"

Rook turned to Coor, his face a cross between confusion and curiosity. Ask Martin? The hare knew the warrior mouse often showed up in dreams, visions, and the like, but only when he was supposed to, and not a moment sooner. Would he appear to Broden soon? The twins' vision could be a foreshadowing of something much bigger. But Father Rommel still needed to know.

"Hey," a voice called sharply. Cyle was halfway beneath the covers, her eyes heavy-lidded and her brow furrowed. "D'you three mind going t'ask Martin somewheres else?" Rook beckoned to his friends and led them out into the hallway, shutting the door to the twins' room. The squirrels had told them everything, and they obviously weren't in the mood to say anything more.

Once in the hall, the black and tan hare looked to Lhiam and Broden in turn. He folded his arms loosely and tilted his ears as if to say, 'Well, what next?' Personally, he thought they should let Father Rommel know first, and then they could seek out a means by which to ask Martin. But Broden was the focus here, so it was probably his decision.

((I feel like I don't do enough with Rook in my posts, but I think it's just because he can't speak. Not enough dialogue for me, heh. Also, y'all let me know when I should bring Rommel in.))

[T-Bone]

"Why don't you ask Martin himself?"

Broden offered a little side-nod. There was an idea. But what were they supposed to be asking, anyway?

"Hey," a voice called sharply. Cyle was halfway beneath the covers, her eyes heavy-lidded and her brow furrowed. "D'you three mind going t'ask Martin somewheres else?" Rook beckoned to his friends and led them out into the hallway, shutting the door to the twins' room.

Once in the hall, the black and tan hare looked to Lhiam and Broden in turn. He folded his arms loosely and tilted his ears as if to say, 'Well, what next?'

"Uhh. . ." Broden scratched his headspikes. Rook and Coor were watching him, as though they expected him to declare something intelligent and proceed to gallop heroically into the sunset. It was still noon! Gosh.

"All right, well, Ah s'pose we coould try askin' Martin 'imself first. . ." he offered.

~~~~~

He knew it was just a woven piece of fabric, but the likeness of Martin was nevertheless intimidating.

Broden stood, facing the tapestry nervously. Martin stared back at him boldly. Why did real heroes have to be so. . . better than Broden? He didn't feel worthy enough to ask Martin anything; he'd just got in a fight and fallen down the stairs, for goodness' sake! Plus that, beasts just didn't ask Martin questions directly. It was unheard of! Broden would much rather talk to Father Rommel, or just leave the talking to Rook. But he wasn't about to back down in front of his closest friends. Instead, he tried to act casual.

Folding his arms and tilting his head back a bit, Broden managed to spit out the question. "So, uh. . . Martin, sir, uh. . ." What should he ask, anyway? ". . . Coould ye be a little more specific? Lak, what the heck'm Ah s'posed tae do?" Yeah, that was a good start.

[Warhound]

Coor tilted his head to the side, watching Broden try to strike up an awkward conversation with Redwall's founder -- the blonde squirrel resisting the urge to smile a little. Sometimes Martin tended to visit beasts while they slept, right? The squirrel warrior curled his paw into a fist, examining his knuckles in thought. He could always knock Broden out if that would help anything.
All for the sake of friendship and truth, right?
Then again, trying to punch a hedgehog in the head was like trying to punch a coconut with nails sticking out of it.
Alright so Father Rommel was probably a better idea.
"Martin visits beasts in their sleep, right? Best talk to Father Rommel first, take a long nap and hope for the best."

Coor knew that would be a little tough for him; Broden wasn't the kind of beast to laze about all day hoping to catch a quick nap -- the burly hedgehog had to be up and doing things. He couldn't just sit and twiddle his thumbs until Martin decided to bless him with his presence. The squirrel scratched one ear, studying his friend. Glancing to the side, Coor caught the black hare's gaze. "What do you think, Rook?"

It was always wise to ask Rook's opinion when they were at a loss over something. The black hare was a sensible creature, and hadn't let them down thus far.

[Rook]

Folding his arms and tilting his head back a bit, Broden managed to spit out the question. "So, uh. . . Martin, sir, uh. . ." What should he ask, anyway? ". . . Coould ye be a little more specific? Lak, what the heck'm Ah s'posed tae do?"

Rook smacked a paw to his forehead. What was Broden supposed to do? Well, a good start would be ending his conversation with a wall hanging. Closing his eyes, the black hare let out a silent sigh, rubbing his eyelids. There had to be a better way to go about doing this . . .

"Martin visits beasts in their sleep, right? Best talk to Father Rommel first, take a long nap and hope for the best."

That made more sense than talking to a tapestry. But Rook wasn't too sure about the 'take a long nap' part. Broden couldn't sit still long enough to read a book, let alone nap. Besides, one couldn't just fall asleep and expect Martin the Warrior to show up. Martin was the kind of creature who did things on his own terms, or during an extreme crisis. An unnerving thought suddenly crossed his mind. If Broden was to be the new Champion, as the twins had predicted, did that mean something terrible was going to happen soon?

Before the hare could dwell on that lovely train of thought any more, Coor caught his eye. "What do you think, Rook?"

Thanks, Coor. Rook looked over at Broden, and then at the tapestry, eyes thoughtful. Why did he have to be the 'voice of reason'? Well it was probably fair, considering he'd dragged Broden to Great Hall, the twins' room, and back again, all because of the vision. Looking back at Coor, Rook traced the name 'Rommel' in the air, nodding once. Their best bet was the abbot. Even if Rommel didn't have any suggestions, he'd have some wisdom to impart. Right?