Free Music ((Open))

[Rook]

A warm, soothing melody echoed out across the grounds of the abbey, piercing the cool stillness of the autumn afternoon. The tune was slightly haunting, and yet strangely welcoming at the same time. It at once beckoned and stilled the heart with its flowing notes. Paws sliding smoothly back and forth over the strings of the violin, Lyric "Rook" Dare closed his eyes contentedly as he brought the bow down, up, and across the instrument.

Oh, if only every day could be like this! Nothing to do but play his music as he perched on the high ramparts. A wide smile spread across his dark features as he began tapping his foot slowly to the rhythm. He'd heard this song somewhere before, but he couldn't recall the lyrics. Well, it wasn't like he could sing them, anyway, but lyrics sometimes helped when trying to recall the entire song.

Wasn't it a song about autumn? That would be fitting, wouldn't it? Yes, it was a song about autumn, and the leaves changing color, and the breeze blowing colder. . . Oh, how did it go? Ah, it didn't matter. The melody was beautiful. Perhaps somebeast else might know the words.

Oh, right, he didn't want to be found by another beast just yet. Those chores he hadn't finished weighed in the back of his mind. But he wanted to practice this autumn song for dinner tonight. He'd promised the Dibbuns he would perform for them. Or, rather, they had begged him, and he had obliged. They were so adorable!

Rook finished the song and started it up again, emptying his mind of everything else but the tune. Such bliss music brought to him. He hoped others felt the same way about it. With his red eyes still closed, the hare lost himself in the melody, all around him gone from his thoughts. Why couldn't life be more like this? Sweet, sweet melody, everywhere, always, endlessly.

Getting to his feet, the black hare began twirling and leaping across the walltop, completely unaware of his surroundings, yet managing to stay safely upon the ramparts. He was not aware that another creature might have come up here, and was now standing not a few yards away . . .

[.:Fawn:.]

Duncan Sternclaw watched the dancing black hare with amazement, admiring his fellow Redwaller's speed and obvious enjoyment of the melody he'd been making. The young mole had gone up to the ramparts in order to clear his head, young Duncan having discovered by the higher altitude made it easy for him to relax (as long as he didn't look directly down from the walltops) and deal with any stress he may've accumulated this week. He hadn't anticipated any beast coming up here so early in the morning, but now that Duncan thought about it, it wasn't all that uncommon for beasts to get the same idea as himself.
Take young Rook for example.

"Burr aye, that be'd a wunnerful zong you'm wur playen, zurr." Duncan called respectfully, tugging his snout in a typical mole greeting. It was no secret that Lyric "Rook" Dare was mute, so Duncan did not expect much in response to his compliment, save for a smile or a bow. Duncan would never say he was grateful for the hare's muteness, it was more like he was grateful for the silence the musically gifted hare provided. Lyric seemed like the sort of friend who would be respectful of another beast's wish for quietude, whether he was mute or not -- after all, Rook could always play much louder if he chose to, and Duncan was grateful the musician had been mindful of the early morning peace.

Having finished weeding his grandmother's vegetible patch for her -- though why a germophobic such as herself grew plants in the dirt was beyond his mole comprehension -- his share of morning chores and helping the cellarkeeper to sweep out his cellar, Duncan was more than ready for a little quiet time to himself. This was how he came up to the wall top, an empty, still-warm bowl of what had once been oatmeal with honey and sliced strawberries resting down by his feet.

[Rook]

"Burr aye, that be'd a wunnerful zong you'm wur playen, zurr." Duncan called respectfully, tugging his snout in a typical mole greeting.

Rook was caught completely off-guard by the mole's greeting. The hare nearly stumbled backwards, but he caught himself, spinning around on one hind paw and moving his instrument down by his sides. He stopped a mere foot away from the dark mole, smiling sheepishly as he narrowly avoided a crash.

Holding the violin and bow with one paw, Rook gave a friendly wave with his free paw. This was . . . Duncan, right? One of the younger moles. His name started with a D. Rook tilted his head and dropped one ear, tracing the word "Duncan" in the air with one finger and then pointing to the newcomer. He had to make sure he knew who spoke to him.

Hey, maybe this mole knew the lyrics to the autumn song! Though Rook had rarely, if ever, heard a mole sing, he wasn't entirely sure if Duncan could. But if the mole knew the words, they could find somebeast to sing while Rook played at dinner tonight.

((Kinda short, but having a mute character is new for me. ^^))

[Stryker]

Rook tilted his head and dropped one ear, tracing the word "Duncan" in the air with one finger and then pointing to the newcomer. He had to make sure he knew who spoke to him.

The young mole's face crinkled into a smile, a small nod confirming Duncan to truly be his name. "Aye, oi'm Duncan Sternclaw, and you'm be a muzishoun named Rook." Tapping his footpaw in time to the music, the mole was completely unaccustomed to the song Rook was playing, his ear for music leaving much to be desired.
"Wot's dat zong you'm be zingin', Rook?" Asked the mole quizzically, sitting up as he picked up his empty oatmeal bowl. "Oi doan't think oi hear'd it before." If he did, Duncan honestly didn't remember; his head was filled with mathematical equations, a list of chores and whatever it was his grandmother had asked him to do this morning. Songs weren't really at the top of his list... If Rook had been looking for somebeast to recognize a poem or a riddle, Duncan could easily help with that. Then again...if Rook was somehow reciting poetry and spittin' riddles, that would've been considered far more exciting than any answer to riddles of clever lines of poetry.

[Rook]

"Aye, oi'm Duncan Sternclaw, and you'm be a muzishoun named Rook."

Rook nodded, sighing exaggeratedly and patting his chest with relief to clarify he was glad he'd gotten the name right. He brought his violin up and played a few chords of the autumn song again, glad to see Duncan remembered his vocation. He smiled widely as the mole tapped his foot to the music.

"Wot's dat zong you'm be zingin', Rook?" Asked the mole quizzically, sitting up as he picked up his empty oatmeal bowl. "Oi doan't think oi hear'd it before."

Rook titled his head again, furrowing his brow. He lifted his cap a little and scratched between his ears, displaying his own inability to recall the name of the song. Finally shrugging, he pointed to the trees changing color in the orchards below, tracing a question mark in the air as if to say, 'Autumn?'

Of course, that gesture could easily have been mistaken for 'trees' or even 'abbey', but being a mute didn't exactly give the hare much option for communicating. But he needed to know if Duncan perchance knew the words. He made a motion in the air as if he were writing, and then he played another bit of the song on his violin again. 'Do you know the words?' He hoped to communicate, but maybe Duncan really hadn't heard the song before. From what Rook remembered, the mole was more of a work-oriented creature, enjoying music, but unable to play it, and not spending much time on it.

[Stryker]

Rook titled his head again, furrowing his brow. He lifted his cap a little and scratched between his ears, displaying his own inability to recall the name of the song. Finally shrugging, he pointed to the trees changing color in the orchards below, tracing a question mark in the air as if to say, 'Autumn?'

Face scrunching into a look of deep concentration, Duncan could be seen puttng in quite a bit of effort to figure out what it was Rook was trying to say. Wut's zurr Rook tryin' to say? Oi 'avn't ee faintest oidea! Scratching the velvety fur atop his head, the mole glanced again to the direction Rook had gestured. Let's see here.
Tree?
A song about trees? No, that didn't seem right... Red? Gold? Orange? Maybe it was a song about the Abbey or the orchards?
No, that didn't seem quite right. They had recently come into a new season at Redwall Abbey, so it must be something for the upcoming Autumnal feast. Wait, that was it! Autumnal!

"Arr ye thinkin' of ee Awtum zong, mizzer Rook?" Duncan suggested hopefully, quite confident that his reasoning skills had brought him to the correct answer.

[Rook]

"Arr ye thinkin' of ee Awtum zong, mizzer Rook?"

Rook nodded emphatically, bouncing slightly on his thick hind feet. He pointed at the trees again and then played more chords of the song. This mole was quite clever! It usually took the hare a few tries to get other beasts to understand what he meant. Now to ask Duncan about the lyrics!

He again made the motion of writing in the air before him, tilting his head quizzically. He then indicated the trees and played part of the song. If Duncan did not know the words, then Rook would need to ask around a bit more. But then again, the hare didn't want any of the elders to know he'd been slacking off on his chores . . . again. So maybe he should just stay up here with Duncan and 'chat' for awhile.

Perching on the ramparts, the hare awaited an answer, his fingers itching to rehearse the song again. He might need to repeat his 'question' again, in case the mole hadn't caught the gist of what he meant. Oh, the curse of not having a voice . . .

((I like Duncan. He's fun. He should meet Tessa Rex sometime.))

[.:Fawn:.]

He again made the motion of writing in the air before him, tilting his head quizzically. He then indicated the trees and played part of the song. If Duncan did not know the words, then Rook would need to ask around a bit more. But then again, the hare didn't want any of the elders to know he'd been slacking off on his chores . . . again. So maybe he should just stay up here with Duncan and 'chat' for awhile.

It was quite fortunate Duncan was a clever little beast for a mole, otherwise he might not've understood Rook's pantomimes at all. "You'm bee lookin' fer the lyriks?" asked Duncan, rubbing his nose. "They be zumthin' about ee leafers changin', oi'm sure of eet zurr." The mole thought better when he was up and moving, and began to pace along the walltop, clearly intent on helping Rook to remember the lyrics -- and if he couldn't, perhaps he'd find someone who could?
"Could ee play et agin, Rook?" A smile wormed it's way onto the mole's kindly face, "Oi think oi'd a'member better wiff sum muzik playin'."

It was true that Duncan wasn't a big fan of music, but the young black hare in front of him had a real talent for music -- so much talent that even a musically challenged creature like Duncan Sternclaw could come to appreciate it. Oi wunner if et be hard tryin to play on ee violin, it certainly didn't seem like it, Duncan noticed, for Rook played it as if it were an extension of his body, not a thing made of wood and wire that he could set down when he got tired of it. That violin was every bit a part of Rook as the maple staff or woodcrafting was a part of Duncan. Sure, they were cut from two different cloths, but their passions were of the same magnitude.

[Rook]

"You'm bee lookin' fer the lyriks?" asked Duncan, rubbing his nose. "They be zumthin' about ee leafers changin', oi'm sure of eet zurr."

Rook nodded in agreement, clearly overjoyed to have found this mole who seemed to understand his pantomime quite accurately. Not even his close friends understood him this well. Normally, he would have to repeat his motions, or even write down his intentions, for somebeast to get it. Duncan was obviously a sharp chap.

"Could ee play et agin, Rook?" A smile wormed it's way onto the mole's kindly face, "Oi think oi'd a'member better wiff sum muzik playin'."

The hare pretended to laugh silently as he picked up the violin, placing it under his chin. Sitting up straighter on his perch, he set the bow on the strings and readily obliged the request. Once again the haunting, welcoming melody pierced the silence as Duncan continued pacing in thought. Rook was doing his fair share of trying to remember, as well.

But the lyrics continued to evade him. Even as he played, he simply could not recall what words had been sung the first time he'd heard this song. Well, if he never remembered, even with Duncan's help, it was still a wonderful song to play for dinner tonight.

((Here's the song I imagine him playing, but just the violin part, obviously: www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7KloKvnmA8&feature=youtube_gdata_player ))

[Stryker]

The hare pretended to laugh silently as he picked up the violin, placing it under his chin. Sitting up straighter on his perch, he set the bow on the strings and readily obliged the request.

When the beautiful, eerie cry of the violin sounded, young Duncan paused his pacing to listen, his head tilted as he drank in the enchanting sound. Ee plays better'n anybeast oi ever seen, admired the mole, his dark eyes twinkling as he watched Rook carry on the tune. For a few moments, Duncan wondered what it was like to be able to have such musical talent -- to be able to speak to creatures through an instrument or a song of your own making... Duncan had never really been interested in music before -- which was probably why, in spite of all this, he couldn't remember the lyrics to the Autumn Song -- but he was feeling quite inspired by the mute young hare.
Inspired enough to propose an idea.
"Oi lurvs the zound ee violin be makin', Rook," gushed Duncan, clapping his paws in polite appreciation as the song ended. "But oi can't a'member ee lyriks...Maybee we shud make up our own?"

It was a bold idea, but a potentially difficult one if they were lacking in the lyric-making department. Duncan could honestly say he'd never attempted something like this in his entire life, but he didn't want Rook to be at a loss because he couldn't remember the Autumn Song lyrics... Besides, wouldn't it be more fun to make their own version of the Autumn Song? They could call it something else -- like the Autumn Festival Song! Duncan was sure if they could put their heads together, it wouldn't be too tough of a challenge.

[Rook]

"Oi lurvs the zound ee violin be makin', Rook," gushed Duncan, clapping his paws in polite appreciation as the song ended. "But oi can't a'member ee lyriks...Maybee we shud make up our own?"

Rook's ensuing smile could have wrapped twice around his face. He nodded so hard his ears rocked back and forth and he nearly lost his prized cap. He played a few stray chords on his instrument to display his obvious excitement. Though he was better at composing instrumental pieces, he wrote song lyrics from time to time.

The hare then perked up as if remembering something. He set down his violin and held up a paw, reaching into a small red bag resting on the rampart walkway. He pulled out a sheet of parchment and a writing utensil. Using his left leg as a desk as he crossed it halfway over his right, he wrote 'Autumn Song' in clear script at the top of the page.

He then handed the parchment and writing utensil to Duncan and picked up his instrument again. Grinning widely, he played the first part of the song for a little inspiration. He took the bow off the violin and tilted his head. 'Any ideas?' he mouthed.

[Stryker]

He then handed the parchment and writing utensil to Duncan and picked up his instrument again. Grinning widely, he played the first part of the song for a little inspiration. He took the bow off the violin and tilted his head. 'Any ideas?' he mouthed.

Duncan wracked his brain, hard. The mole, despite being a bit shy when using his voice for anything other than speaking, started to hum, trying to think of some good lyrical words he could put down on parchment for Rook. "Burr aye, me thinks et shud start wiv zomethin' about ee leafers changin'?

Oh ee breezes blow o'er yon hilltops, turnin' ee leafs to gold'n'red,
Zummer's had et's final hour, makin' way fur colorful grand ol' Awtum instead,"

The mole abruptly blushed, embarrassed to say those words aloud in such a fashion -- he also didn't fancy himself much of a singer. "Zorry young Rook, oi'm just a'thinkin' aloud," he added, totally abashed.

[Rook]

"Burr aye, me thinks et shud start wiv zomethin' about ee leafers changin'?
Oh ee breezes blow o'er yon hilltops, turnin' ee leafs to gold'n'red,
Zummer's had et's final hour, makin' way fur colorful grand ol' Awtum instead,"

Rook nodded, playing the first part of the song again as the mole sang. It was perfect! Of course, somebeast with a less pronounced accent might sound a little better singing it, but Duncan was doing splendidly! The hare frantically pantomimed writing, pointing to the parchment. 'Write that down!'

When the mole didn't comply right away (no doubt from surprise at the hare's sudden excitement), Rook snatched the parchment away and wrote it down himself, adding in the keys and chords above the corresponding words so he'd remember when he began to play. He then looked up and smiled sheepishly at Duncan. 'Sorry,' he mouthed.

[Stryker]

The hare frantically pantomimed writing, pointing to the parchment. 'Write that down!'

When the mole didn't comply right away (no doubt from surprise at the hare's sudden excitement), Rook snatched the parchment away and wrote it down himself, adding in the keys and chords above the corresponding words so he'd remember when he began to play. He then looked up and smiled sheepishly at Duncan. 'Sorry,' he mouthed.

More than a little surprised Rook found that good enough to write down, Duncan wasn't at all upset when he snatched the paper away and wrote down the cords -- he'd originally thought the hare was revoking him of his job of picking song lyrics. Pleasantly surprised, Duncan smiled a little shyly to himself, nodding to Rook as if to say 'no harm done'. "Mayhaps we shud get rid off 'colorful' oi'm thinking ee 'grand ol' awtum' sounds noice enuff." Scootching over on the walltop so that he was closer to Rook, Duncan was able to see the notes and chords he'd written down. It was like a whole other language!
Bemused, the young mole tilted his head a bit, warm black eyes studying the parchment intently. "Burr aye, zur Rook, how you'm be knowin' 'ow to make all them curly wurly markin's?" Asked the mole, completely mystified. Duncan scratched his head with a digging claw -- he might've seen this before, when he'd been in Abbey School and learning about some feast song or something...but goodness, for the life of him he couldn't remember what any of it meant!

[Rook]

Pleasantly surprised, Duncan smiled a little shyly to himself, nodding to Rook as if to say 'no harm done'. "Mayhaps we shud get rid off 'colorful' oi'm thinking ee 'grand ol' awtum' sounds noice enuff."

Rook considered for a moment, and then nodded in agreement, scratching off the word 'colorful' and adjusting the keys as needed. He tapped his chin, trying to come up with the next lines. A thought struck him, and he scribbled down these few verses:

As bright as the hearth's fire, Autumn bursts into the scene,
Chasing the hot days away, and promising festival dreams.

The hare raised an eyebrow at what he'd written. He wasn't a grand songwriter, either, at least not with lyrics. He could compose instrumentals all day long, but words failed him somehow. As he tried to figure out the keys that would fit each word, Duncan spoke.

"Burr aye, zur Rook, how you'm be knowin' 'ow to make all them curly wurly markin's?" Asked the mole, completely mystified.

Rook smiled, turning to Duncan. He wanted to learn music? Pointing to one of the keys he'd written, he scribbled the letter G next to it. He then handed the parchment to Duncan and picked up the violin again, playing a solid G key to demonstrate. Using the bow as a pointer, he indicated a higher key, tracing the letter A in the air and playing the chord on his violin.

It was hard to teach music when one couldn't speak. There was so much to understand! But the hare guessed Duncan was just interested in it as a study itself, not necessarily because he wanted to learn how to play an instrument. Although, if he did, Rook would definitely have to enlist some speaking help. But he might be able to show the mole some basic keys.

((I . . . don't know the first thing about music. XD I had to look up a musical scale to get the keys right.))

[Stryker]

He tapped his chin, trying to come up with the next lines. A thought struck him, and he scribbled down these few verses:

As bright as the hearth's fire, Autumn bursts into the scene,
Chasing the hot days away, and promising festival dreams.

Studying the parchment closely, Duncan read it twice before responding, his dark eyes impressed. "You'm be a gurt zong writer zurr, oi likes that part vury much." Nodding in aggreement with his own words, Duncan's attention went to the animated black hare as Rook tried to explain the mystery of musical notes to him.
Watching closely, Duncan blurted out a question once he found an opening; "Burr aye, do 'ee muzikal noters go all the way up ter Z?" If that was the case, then merciful heavens, Rook must've learned a LOT of notes! Glancing to the parchment, Duncan read all that they had written so far, and his forehead wrinkled in concentration. "Shud we be wurkin' on 'ee chorus or sumthin'?"

((XD lol, I played Trumpet for a few years, but I couldn't write music if I tried.))

[Rook]

"You'm be a gurt zong writer zurr, oi likes that part vury much."

Really? Rook glanced at the parchment in the mole's paws. Huh, it must sound nicer than it looks in writing. Well, anything would sound nice when put to the tune of the Autumn song.

"Burr aye, do 'ee muzikal noters go all the way up ter Z?"

Rook pantomimed laughing, shaking his head. He indicated the C key and then moved his violin bow over to a B key and moved it back and forth between the two. 'Not to Z,' he mouthed with a smile. Though it was funny the mole should mention it. He'd thought the same thing when first learning music.

"Shud we be wurkin' on 'ee chorus or sumthin'?"

Rook looked at the parchment again and nodded. He played the next part of the song for the mole to hear. As he played, he tried to think of more lines for a possible chorus.

((Sorry it's short. My brain is fried from trying to write an essay earlier.))

[Stryker]

Rook pantomimed laughing, shaking his head. He indicated the C key and then moved his violin bow over to a B key and moved it back and forth between the two. 'Not to Z,' he mouthed with a smile.

"Shud 'ee chorus be zumthin' zimple'n'easy so 'ee likkle ones can a'member 'ee lyrics?" Trying to think of who all would be at the autumn festival coming up, Duncan was doing his best to have all of Redwall's inhabitants, even the babes and youngsters. Besides, truth be told, with an easy chorus to remember, even some of the older folk at the Abbey would probably prefer it to a more poetic one.
"Oi'm thinkin' o zumthin' that repeats ee line or two? Wot ur zum easy words 'ee likkle ones wud loike zayin'?"
Scratching his head again with one digging claw, Duncan looked at Rook as if expecting the musically talented hare to have all the answers. "Burr aye, perhaps we best be arskin' sumbeast who wud know?"
A few creatures came to mind, who understood dibbuns more than anybody else; one was December, the cheerful mousewife who always wore a smile on her face, the second was Aruna Galedeep, wife of Thorsten Galedeep and a school-teacher in Abbey School, surely she'd know a thing or two. The others that came to mind were caretakers, and possibly even brother Halifax at the infirmary or Mother Abbess/Father Abbot.

[Rook]

"Shud 'ee chorus be zumthin' zimple'n'easy so 'ee likkle ones can a'member 'ee lyrics?"

Rook nodded again. He liked catchy lyrics, too. Even if he couldn't always remember songs (not to mention the fact that he couldn't sing), if the chorus was memorable enough, he could usually think of the melody for the rest of the song, at least.

"Oi'm thinkin' o zumthin' that repeats ee line or two? Wot ur zum easy words 'ee likkle ones wud loike zayin'?"

Rook tapped his chin with the bow in thought. Something little ones would like saying . . . He took the parchment and scribbled a few lines. He then crossed those out and wrote something else, one of his ears dropping back in concentration.

'With colors of sunset, great Autumn comes in,
With colors of sunset, leaves dance in the wind
Summer has past and winter is due,
With colors of sunset, Autumn, we welcome you!'

He then passed the parchment back to Duncan, biting his lip in apprehension. The mole's next words made him think twice about the little chorus he'd just written.

"Burr aye, perhaps we best be arskin' sumbeast who wud know?"

Rook nodded yet again, rubbing the back of his neck as if embarrassed by what he'd written. He thought of the same creatures Duncan did, even though neither of them said the names aloud.

-----

Scurrying along the path below the two aspiring songwriters, December carried a large canvas over her head. The wood-frame-mounted piece was as long as she was tall, and just a bit wider than her plump little frame. The painted part was not visible from above, and from the ramparts it almost looked like a big white rectangle was moving along the path.

Rook noticed this and nudged Duncan, standing up from his perch on the ramparts and leaned out over the edge of the walkway along the walls. The hare played a note or two on his violin to get the little mouse's attention. December moved the canvas back and looked up at the noise, offering one of her ever-present smiles.

"G'mornin', boys," she greeted, still holding the canvas over her head. "Playin' music, today, are we? I do love music. Would you mind if I listened? I need someplace for this painting to dry proper, and I can't think of anyplace safer for it than the walltop."

[Stryker]

"G'mornin', boys," she greeted, still holding the canvas over her head. "Playin' music, today, are we? I do love music. Would you mind if I listened? I need someplace for this painting to dry proper, and I can't think of anyplace safer for it than the walltop."

Duncan smiled immediately. She was just the mouse he wanted to see! "Guud mornin' mizzus Krell, Rook'n'oi be ee compozin' ee zongs fur ee Awtum feast." He glanced at Rook, giving the black hare a wink. "Oi'm shur ee Rook here will play 'ee a noice zong, if we had sum help wiff 'ee lyrikers. Oi'm not a vury guud zong-maker, burr aye."

Stepping forward to help the little mousewife with her canvas, the young mole tugged his snout politely, already scanning for a good sunny spot on the walltop where her paints could dry nicely. "Anybeast 'ere be thursty? Oi can bring us sum noice strawburry cordjul while we wait for yore paintings to dry."

(( >.o painfully short, I'm sorry! ))