Private Concert ((Coor, open))

[Rook]

All was silence in Redwall abbey. The moon hung high in the sky, partially obscured by thin, gray clouds. The stars were nearly invisible behind the cloud cover. A sparse mist hugged the grounds, and an imperceptible breeze made the drying grasses bend. Everybeast was fast asleep, tucked away in bed on the chilly fall night. Everybeast was dreaming peacefully, excited for the upcoming Autumn Feast. Everybeast was resting easy, spent after a good day at the abbey.

Well, almost everybeast. While the rest of the abbey slept soundly, a dark figure carrying a red bag stole quietly into Cavern Hole. Days filled with constant feast preparations had left only night available to the young black hare. Rook set his bag down on one of the armchairs, doing his best not to bump into anything in the dark. He took out two flint stones and got a fire going in the hearth. Satisfied with the lighting, he returned to his bag, removing the four instruments from within.

Setting them out on the seat of the big chair, the black hare rubbed his paws together, half for warmth, and half in delight. Which one should he practice with first? He mulled over the decision as he walked over to the door of Cavern Hole and made to shut it, just so his playing wouldn't disturb anybeast sleeping. The door didn't latch all the way, but Rook didn't notice, returning to his instruments and selecting his mandolin.

The hare strummed the strings a few times, tuned it, and began to play. He didn't dance very much when playing the mandolin. That was reserved for the violin and flute. But he did sway to the music, back and forth, taking a step this way around the chair, and back that way towards the hearth. The tune wasn't quite as solemn as the ones he preferred to play on the violin, but he liked the plucky chords of the mandolin arranged in a more upbeat melody.

Rook smiled to himself, spinning around on the toes of one foot. He happened to glance up at the door, which by now had swung ajar, and saw the creature standing in the doorway. He froze, one leg suspended a few inches above the floor, ready for a second spin. His fingers caught on the wrong chord, and a flat note ended the song quite abruptly. His ears dropped back as he lowered the mandolin, rubbing the back of his neck as if to say, 'I'm sorry.' He couldn't quite see who it was in the dim lighting, but he sorely hoped it wasn't one of the elders. They got so cranky when their sleep was disturbed.

[Warhound]

The emptiness of the gatehouse had finally begun to affect him. It was broken off from the main building, and that kind of made Coor feel like an outcast, now that he thought about it. Though by no means prepared to move in and be apart of the hustle and bustle of Abbey life, he wouldn't mind bumping into someone he knew or striking up a conversation with whoever happened to be up at this hour... Well, considering how late it was, it looked like the blonde, blue-eyed squirrel was going to have to settle for strolling the empty halls of Redwall Abbey by himself... Maybe he'd stop and visit Martin the Warrior's tapestry? He was as good as any a person to have a conversation with, even if it was a bit one-sided.
Coor smiled in the darkness, slipping inside of the Abbey and locking the main doors after himself (habit really, than any actual concern over the Abbey's safety); his thoughts of Martin the Warrior suddenly reminded him of Broden. Abbey Champion, huh? The Gods know he's been wanting that title for a while. As long as Coor had known the big bristly beast, Broden had spoken of his desire to be Abbey Champion right from the get-go. Coor never challenged him on it, considering two things. One, it wasn't a title he himself felt he wanted or deserved, and two, Broden made a much better choice than anyone he knew. The hedgehog was a bit of a wild-card at times, but his heart (and his fists) were often in the right places, and that's truly what mattered – well, that and Broden's obvious skill with various weaponry.

Ears pricking forward, the squirrel slowed down as he passed by the entrance to Cavern Hole, the sweet, soft sounds of a mandolin wafting out to greet him from that little space beneath the doors. Well he knew that sound anywhere. Rook! Quietly pushing the door open, the squirrel's ears gave another twitch as Rook hit a sudden, uncharacteristically sour note. Whoops, had he startled him? Watching the black hare look at him apologetically, Coor smiled in reassurance.
”Sorry Rook. I didn't meant to startle you.” Closing the door behind himself with a soft 'click', Coor stepped into the light, his spiky fur giving him a somewhat distorted appearance. ”That was a nice song. Are you practicing just to practice, or did you have something planned?”

[Rook]

'Oh, Coor, it's you!' Rook's expression turned from sheepish apology to delighted surprise. He tucked the mandolin under one arm and stepped forward to greet his friend with a warm smile.

”Sorry Rook. I didn't meant to startle you.” Closing the door behind himself with a soft 'click', Coor stepped into the light, his spiky fur giving him a somewhat distorted appearance. ”That was a nice song. Are you practicing just to practice, or did you have something planned?”

Rook pantomimed chuckling and shrugged absently. He really didn't know. The attempt to give lyrics to a certain autumn song the other day with the help of Duncan Sternclaw had been interrupted. The black hare had settled for figuring out something on his own. Then again, he wasn't really sure he wanted to perform alone. But tonight was mostly just for fun, since he hadn't had a good music session in awhile.

But why was Coor up and about? Rook raised an eyebrow, tilting his ears to one side and pointing at his friend questioningly. He then pantomimed sleeping and shook his head. 'Couldn't sleep?' The hare hoped Coor felt alright. He knew a quiet walk around the grounds was just the thing for insomnia, but he was also glad to see the blonde squirrel. The past few days had kept him and every beast else busy with preparing for the feast.

[Warhound]

But why was Coor up and about? Rook raised an eyebrow, tilting his ears to one side and pointing at his friend questioningly. He then pantomimed sleeping and shook his head. 'Couldn't sleep?' The hare hoped Coor felt alright. He knew a quiet walk around the grounds was just the thing for insomnia, but he was also glad to see the blonde squirrel. The past few days had kept him and every beast else busy with preparing for the feast.

The spiky-furred squirrel shook his head, getting that feeling again that he should be quiet. Though Coor was normally a quiet, calm creature, being around his mute friend made him fall into a sort of habit of using gestures more than words. At least, he became physically more expressive, perhaps because he was unknowingly mimicking Rook. He wasn't trying to mock or ridicule the black hare, nothing like that. It was a subconscious thing really, and only noticeable to those who did their absolute best to study his every move.
"I felt a little stir crazy, that's all."
Coor didn't want to openly admit that he'd felt a little lonely, out there in the gatehouse on a cool autumnal night -- he was supposed to be indifferent to things like that, lest anybeast start worrying about him, least of all his friends. This wasn't a total lie, fortunately, for the blonde squirrel had been feeling a bit... restless lately. Perhaps it was the warrior's blood in him, or maybe it was the change of the seasons? Whatever was causing it, Coor would very much like for it to stop. It brought back the wanderlust of his earlier years, which was during a time spent with a great deal of brawling and bloody knuckles... They weren't his best years by any stretch of the imagination.
"How are you? Have you heard from your family lately?"
The last time Coor had spoken to Rook about his family, Coor had learned that Rook's parents, Justice and Rachel Dare were going to have more children, but he'd forgotten the exact number. Rook was going to be a big brother, eh? That was certainly something.

[Rook]

"I felt a little stir crazy, that's all."

Rook's smile was halfway a smirk. He didn't quite understand these warrior types. How restless they could get sometimes. Perhaps it was just Rook's laid-back nature, but, even though he was a decent fighter himself, he just couldn't grasp that restlessness syndrome that seemed to plague warriors. Maybe it was because he'd never been in a real fight. Sure, he'd felt the rush of adrenaline when sparring with his friends, but never the genuine thing.

"How are you? Have you heard from your family lately?"

Rook nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. From the folds of his black sash, he took out a folded letter. Opening it, he handed it to Coor, indicating that it was indeed from his parents. The letter read:

Rook, darling, we have some exciting news! When your father and I visit Redwall this spring, we'll be bringing your new baby siblings! Triplets, no less. I simply cannot wait to see you again, dear. The little ones are absolutely thrilled to meet their big brother! (Well, I'm sure they will be, anyway. There's no way they won't love you.) I'm so sorry I cannot write more. Your father is in the middle of closing a rather large deal with some tradesmen. He's constantly arguing with them, and I can't find any peace!

Your affectionate mother,
Rachel Elizabeth Dare

P.S. If you have any suggestions for names, please send them in your reply! I fancy Raven for one of their names, as I'm sure they'll inherit your father's stunning dark fur. Don't you think so?

Rook had almost memorized the note, and he chuckled silently. He hadn't been this excited for something since his parents' first visit to Redwall when he was little. As Coor read the letter, the black hare set his mandolin down, picking up his flute and twirling it idly with the fingers of one paw.

[Warhound]

Smiling as he read, the blonde squirrel's bushy tail swayed a bit behind him -- a happy sign for someone like Coor, blue eyes mimicking the happiness his smile showed. "Congratulations, Rook. Raven's a nice name -- Ember, Onyx, and Shadow are nice names too, if Mrs. Dare is still stuck on names." Handing the letter back to him, Coor honestly was wishing the best of luck to Rook and Rook's parents, hoping for a safe delivery and very happy news come spring time.

"How are you feeling about being a big brother?" This question Coor wanted an honest answer to. Dare was a friendly, upbeat hare, and to Coor, it felt like he never had any worries over anything... Even if he was technically lacking in the vocal department. Rook was NOT someone to get down and out about it. The blonde squirrel had never lost anything of that nature; his loses were severe but outside of his actual body (unless his heart counted, then that had taken quite a few beatings over the years)... And he apparently didn't have the courage, or the strength to be as upbeat about life as Rook was. He wasn't sad, not at all, he was just reserved now, but he treated everyone with kindness and consideration -- wanting to keep safe those few who had entered his life and changed it for the better. Coor was difficult to relate to, and even harder to understand when he didn't like discussing his past, but at least they could see he meant well.
Regarding youngsters, however... Coor was in uncharted territory, you could say.

[Rook]

"Congratulations, Rook. Raven's a nice name -- Ember, Onyx, and Shadow are nice names too, if Mrs. Dare is still stuck on names."

Rook accepted the letter back, folding it up and returning it to his sash. He nodded agreement to the names. He'd thought of similar ones, like Shade, Ebony, and Ash. He planned to ask around the abbey and compile a nice list for his mother. The black hare brought the flute to his lips, but he stopped with Coor's next words.

"How are you feeling about being a big brother?"

Rook grinned readily, clearly elated. His entire person seemed to perk up, from the tip of his scut to the tops of his ears. But then his smile suddenly held just a hint of hesitation, and he rubbed the back of his neck, red eyes darting to the side. He was thrilled, in all honesty. But one nagging worry continued to bother him.

Looking back up at Coor, he mouthed, 'What if they don't like me?' His ears swiveled back as his shoulders bunched up into a shrug. He knew it was silly to be worrying so much, but he couldn't help it. Being a big brother was a completely new experience for Rook. He loved children with all his heart, but these babes were going to be his own family.

[Warhound]

But then his smile suddenly held just a hint of hesitation, and he rubbed the back of his neck, red eyes darting to the side. He was thrilled, in all honesty. But one nagging worry continued to bother him. Looking back up at Coor, he mouthed, 'What if they don't like me?' His ears swiveled back as his shoulders bunched up into a shrug.

The squirrel chuckled. Not like him? As if that should even be a real concern! Coor smiled, reaching over to give Rook a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry. It's a requirement that family like one another, whether they have a good reason to or not." The tall hare's eyes sparkled with a bit of humor. "You won't have that problem, Rook. Beasts like you, whether you like it or not. Your family's going to love you."
It was the truth. Rook was very good with children, and he obviously didn't need to say a word for them to understand and like him for how he was. Coor found children to be the most accepting of creatures' faults, in fact, some of them weren't even aware the creatures they liked HAD any faults. They were so innocent, so sweet... It's what Coor loved about them, but for creatures like himself, he just couldn't seem to get entirely used to them.
That was something he was just going to have to get through later.

[Rook]

"Don't worry. It's a requirement that family like one another, whether they have a good reason to or not."

Rook raised an eyebrow. Good reason or not? Shockingly, that didn't necessarily make him feel any better. Even if they thought he was a horrible old codger, they'd be forced to like him, anyway. Oh, yes, wonderful.

"You won't have that problem, Rook. Beasts like you, whether you like it or not. Your family's going to love you."

Well, that was better. Rook's smile matched the humor in Coor's eyes. The hare knew other beasts liked him, but he couldn't help but worry . . . New experiences sometimes made him a little apprehensive. But he had to admit he was far more excited than worried. Rook's shoulders relaxed a little, and he twirled the flute again, pretending to chuckle sheepishly.

'Thanks,' he mouthed, perking up again. Then he tilted an ear towards the door of Cavern Hole. He'd heard a noise. Beckoning to Coor, Rook walked up to the entrance and noticed a small figure moving through Great Hall. It was so dark that the hare was unable to tell who it was at first, but then he recognized the five-year-old otter cub Koa Shorehound.

[Warhound]

'Thanks,' he mouthed, perking up again. Then he tilted an ear towards the door of Cavern Hole. He'd heard a noise. Beckoning to Coor, Rook walked up to the entrance and noticed a small figure moving through Great Hall. It was so dark that the hare was unable to tell who it was at first, but then he recognized the five-year-old otter cub Koa Shorehound.

The ottercub had suffered through yet another nightmare; however, unlike the last one, he hadn't woken up yelling (just crying, really. Which wasn't so bad), but he had still been spooked enough to take to wandering the halls, searching for the comfort of an adult or beast who knew him. Coor's eyebrows rose, not used to seeing dibbuns wandering the halls at night -- his first thought was that it was a really really short robber, before logic kicked in and slapped him silly for even suggesting such a silly thing.
"Well Rook, you're good with dibbuns. Maybe you should go talk to him?" Despite keeping his voice low, Koa still heard them, and turned, setting his lamp-like bright brown eyes upon the squirrel and hare pair -- Coor's spiky outline combined with Rook's solid black fur and red eyes painted them in a far more frightening picture than they had intended. Backing away, frightened, Koa settled for ducking behind the nearest bannister, hugging his rudder to his chest with his back pressed against the cool stone. He wasn't normally a loud otter, and perhaps that was why 'screaming for help' didn't even cross his mind.
What did cross his mind, however, were questions that seemed very reasonable from a six-year-old's perspective.
Why are their monsters in Redwall Abbey? and Why does everything try to eat me?

[Rook]

"Well Rook, you're good with dibbuns. Maybe you should go talk to him?"

Rook gave his squirrel friend a confused look, one ear dropping to half mast. Gee, I'd love to, Coor, but there's a small problem, there. But he simply shook his head and turned back to the little otter. His thoughts were now on why the poor thing was wandering the grounds this late. Tucking his flute into his sash for the moment, the hare slowly walked up to Koa, crouching down when he got near the otter cub.

Offering a warm smile and drooping his ears back, Rook held out a big paw to Koa. He hoped the lad was alright. Maybe he'd had a nightmare. Well, music was the best thing for nightmares, in Rook's mind. Taking his flute out, he played a few soft notes, his smile never leaving his face, nor his eyes.

[Warhound]

Whoops.
Alright, so he'd been a bit...slow on the uptake for a few minutes, but he honestly hadn't meant any harm. He of all people shouldn't forget that Rook couldn't talk -- and it wasn't that he DID forget, he'd just forgotten to phrase it in a way that sounded less...offensive. He was going to use the excuse that it was the middle of the night. Watching Rook walk over to where Koa was hiding, the spiky squirrel leaned against the door frame, arms folded over his chest as he looked on intently. Koa Shorehound, on the other hand, nearly jumped out of his skin when the big scary red-eyed demon wandered over to him -- smiled, and began to play a flute.
Demons weren't musically talented, were they? Demons were more talented in the art of devouring frightened ottercubs, right? So that meant this was no demon. Pulling his paws away from his eyes, Koa got a good look at Rook, and instantly heaved a sigh. Returning Rook's smile, the otter made as though to crawl over to Rook, when a sudden bristly creature appeared above him -- Coor leaning over the bannister to see if Rook's playing was working.
"Is everything okay over here?"

"YAARGH!"

Squeaking with alarm, Koa scrambled from the banister and ended up knocking right into Rook and nearly stunning himself from the impact. Coor winced. Again, reason #31 why he wasn't good with dibbuns. They tended to RUN when they saw him.
"Sorry Koa, didn't mean to frighten you. It's Coor. Did you... Have a nightmare?" The squirrel gave Rook a look as if to say 'and NOW do you see why I don't talk to babes?'

[Rook]

"Is everything okay over here?"

Rook jumped, unaware that Coor had come up behind him. Koa let out a yell of surprise and rammed into the hare's chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Gently looping his arm around the frightened otter, Rook shot a mild glare up at Coor. The spiky squirrel seemed to have realized his mistake.

"Sorry Koa, didn't mean to frighten you. It's Coor. Did you... Have a nightmare?" The squirrel gave Rook a look as if to say 'and NOW do you see why I don't talk to babes?'

Rook rubbed the front of his ribcage and gave Coor a look as if to say, 'And HOW did you forget this was why you don't talk to babes?' The hare let out a silent sigh and stowed his flute back into his sash. He got to his knees beside Koa, catching the frightened lad's eye and offering another smile. He certainly hoped the babe was alright. Maybe it had just been a nightmare. But Rook knew nightmares were especially traumatic to little ones like Koa.

In fact, Rook realized Koa hadn't been his normally jovial self recently. Was it the change in seasons? Or was it merely a recurring bad dream? Sometimes it took a few days for the feeling of a nightmare to wear off. For a child, it could take even longer. The thing about nightmares was they tended to hang around a lot longer than good dreams. Perhaps Rook could give Koa something else to dream about. Maybe the lad would like to hear more music when he'd settled down.