A/N

Hello everyone,

Spring has finally sprung in my neck of the woods. So why not celebrate with Cheek: Tale of Spring. This one is going to be a two part tale. I'll try to have the rest up ASAP. For those of you following Fur and Flame, never fret I'm still working on that too. I will have new chapters up as soon as I get them edited. This piece is edited by me, and considering I only got 50% in my grammar course, you can expect a number of errors. (This is why I'm having F&F edited properly.)

If you have a moment please leave a comment. I'd love to know what you think of this story. If anyone would care to suggest or request other Redwall short stories I would love to hear from you.

….

The seasons were changing, the cold cover of winter, was at last being transformed to the cheerful overlay of spring time. Out in the orchards of Redwall Abbey, the fruit trees were forming buds, with the promise of fresh fruit soon to come. With the arrival of the new season, so came new duties.

The entire Stump family was busy at work in the gardens. Following the melting of winter snow, debris and dead vegetation littered the grounds. Each of the burly hedgehog maids welded a rake with sturdy paws clearing the earth for seeding. Their brother Jubilation, or Jube as he preferred to be known, pushed a hefty wheelbarrow over to the growing pile of plant debris.

"We'll soon be ready to plough and seed, so we will." Jabez Stump remarked to his son. Taking up a pitch fork he helped load up the wheelbarrow.

Jube nodded in agreement. "Father Abbot will be pleased no doubt. " Taking the handles he pushed the wheelbarrow off to the far region of the gardens. All around Redwallers rolled up their sleeves to tend the plants that remained through all seasons, and prepare the earth for new seedlings. As Jube approached his destination, another group of workers toiled. Foremole and his crew were delighted to get their digging claws into the ground once more. The first request on the mole crew; was a second compost pit. Right alongside the first, Foremole and his trusty moles fashioned a square shaped trench. It was nearly as deep as one mole and large enough for the group of six to lie down in. Watching the work was Cheek Stag Otter. He had been set the task of assisting the mole crew, and seeing to the compost pile. Foremole climbed out of the newly dug pit, a clothespin placed over his snout.

"Hurr, us 'uns be done ee hole. Now young'uns, ee can start heaving ee composter in this 'ere pit, for the sunshoin to bake. Oi'll go on to t' 'h'abbey t' wash up an' 'elp out where oi is needed, burr oi. Oi Loiks digging ee 'oles but doint loik the smell of composter." Tugging his pinned snout respectfully, he and his crew headed back in the direction of great hall.

With a light sigh , Cheek began shoveling in the plant debris into the new pit, adding some of the older compost along with it to help break things down.

"Why the long face Cheek, upset you have to do a day's honest labour?" The Hedgehog laughed watching last autumns dried and weathered leaves tumble into the fresh dug earth.

"Hardly." Huffed Cheek. "Don't have a problem with working, thankee kindly."

Shaking his head spikes indifferently, Jube continued about his work. Once the wheelbarrow was emptied he turned it around and headed back to pick up more debris. "If you're going to be in a foul mood on this fine spring day, I'd just assume not talk to you." Trudging on he left the otter to till the compost pile alone.

Mattimeo, son of Matthias the Warrior, was helping the Brothers and Sisters of Redwall prepare seedlings to be set in the soil. When Jube came lumbering back with the wheelbarrow, he nudged his friend. "What's got Cheek so down?" The young mouse thought it odd, that the usually jolly otter was in such low spirits.

The hedgehog shrugged his brawny shoulders. " I dunno, been like that three days now. "

Tess the pretty mousemaid, passed Mattimeo a clay pot containing several pea sprouts. "I can tell you two exactly what is wrong with our friend." She said matter-of-factly.

Mattimeo knelt, using a small trowel he dug into the freshly tilled earth. Planting the contents of the clay pot, he patted the earth around the small plant. Beside each plant he pressed some reed stakes Brother Rufus had cut for the young plants to climb. Peering up at Tess, he twitched his whiskers wondering what details she might know that was so unknown to the others. "And, what might that be? Do tell Tess."

Brushing dry soil from her paws, the mousemaid nodded towards the forlorn looking otter. "It is really simple actually. It was only three days ago that Tummscoff left us to travel to the western shores to join up with The Long Patrol. With his cousin gone, Cheek has lost his chief partner in crime. Now, Sister Pansy is bound to blame him for every candied nut that goes astray. "Laughing softly she passed Mattimeo another clay pot. "In all seriousness, I believe he misses his cousin quite a lot. The same can be said for Mr. Basil Stag Hare as well, although neither Cheek nor him is quite willing to show it openly. Try to go easy on our friend I'm sure he'll come around in no time."

Orlando the Badger Lord of the western plain, stood on the western wall top observing his territory. He now lived as a badger of peace, along with his daughter Auma. Each enjoyed the splendor and safety Redwall Abbey could offer. His beloved child had grown to become an astute student under the direction of Constance, Redwall's Badgermother. While he had hung his great axe in the Abbey's great hall, he couldn't help but feel it missing from his paws. The past few evenings, his dreams had been clouded with visions of the far western shores. They had only grown more vivid, with the departure of the young hare. Hearing the pawsteps of Auma, he pushed these thoughts from his mind.

"Daughter, what brings you to the ramparts?" His deep voice rumbled, even as he spoke those gentle words.

"The small matter of tilling the remaining gardens, as a matter of fact." The badgermaid carefully gathered up the billowing blue skirts she wore, not wanting to trip on the narrow wall top stairs. "Abbot Alf doesn't wish to trouble you. Several of the Abbey Brother's have offered to help pull and push the plough along, but a pawful of mice do not equal the strength of you father. They've already exhausted themselves doing the smaller gardens. "

Turning his eyes from the western plain the large badger followed his daughter, eager to assist in the agricultural preparation. The hefty badger approached the group of habit garbed mice, trying to shift the large piece of farming equipment.

"Easy there friends," The kindly badger relieved them of their burden. "We shall soon have the crops sown, and planted." Taking hold of the iron plough, Orlando pushed with all his might. The curved blades cut through the soft soil, up turning the earth, making ready for fresh plants. Behind him the Redwall brothers, each with sacks of seeds strapped over their sides, scattered the seeds throughout the fresh soil. Each was grateful for the strength of Orlando, for the labour could be completed all the faster.

Discovering a rather glum looking Cheek the large badger approached, his muscular paws spread wide as though to embrace the young creature. "Well now young Cheek, why the sour face?" Catching the scent of compost, clinging to Cheek's fur Orlando waved a paw about his nose. "Goodness, young 'un. Smells as though you've up and died on us."

The young otter frowned, annoyed at his elder's attempt to cheer him up. "I've been tending to t'compost pile as I was told."

Grinning broadly the mighty badger scooped up the otter as though he were naught but a babe. Tossing him over one shoulder he marches right for the Abbey pond holding his nose comically. "Well then you sir, there is only one thing to do with you."

Cheek wriggled and squirmed in Orlando's arms clearly not in the mood for these games. The Badger was only trying to make the otter laugh. Wading into the shallows of the pond, Orlando continued until the water came to his middle. "Alright Cheek, time for your bath young 'un."

Kicking and growling Cheek protested. "Set me down this instant stripe dog. Down, I say!"

"Down you say? Well alright." Laughing deeply Orlando nearly dropped the thrashing Cheek into the cold pond water. For one brief moment Cheek vanished under the surface of the water. With a mad thrashing of his paws and rudder like tail he soon was upright. Orlando backed away quickly to avoid the waves kicked up by Cheek. Chuckling deeply he returned to the side of the pond watching as the otter swam back to shore grumbling and mumbling.

Sam Squirrel had finished pruning the tall orchard trees with his mother. Seeing what had taken place he hurried over to see the state of his friend. "I guess your clean now, eh Cheek?" He laughed as the otter shook his soaked coat dry. Striding forward, the squirrel tried to cheer up his pal with further comments.

"Oh, come on grumpy rudder, It was only a joke. You needed a bit of a cool down anyway."

Cheek huffed crossly. Narrowing his eyes he peered down at Sam, and before the squirrel could jest further Cheek's fist struck out hard clipping his friend in the jaw. Bowled over Sam clutched his face, wincing in pain. Blinking, he gazed up at his friend in disbelief.

…..

Basil Stag Hare, now graying with age, sat in cavern hole. The aging hare stroked his waxed whiskers, temporarily lost in thought. His eyes gazed past the figure standing before him. Cheek felt very small standing in front of his adoptive father. Trouble always seemed to find Cheek, however Basil was always quick to forgive those minor shortcomings. After all, Basil too had pinched many a scone or broken the odd dish in his younger seasons. Striking out at a friend in anger, that was a far different matter. Cheek bowed his head and gazed at the stone floor. His tail dragged slowly back and forth in nervous habit. The young otter kept hoping one of the hedgehog cellar keepers, or abbey kitchen helpers might wander in and interrupt. Throughout Redwall word quickly spread and nobeast wanted to interrupt Basil.

Huffing loudly the old hare's whiskers twitched. "Well, wot have ye to say for yerself laddie buck?" His tone was that of saddened disappointment rather than anger.

Cheek would have preferred to be yelled at, had Basil shouted at him it would have been far easier to bear.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled lowly, his voice hoarse.

Tilting his head, Basil's right ear perked up. "Sorry sah couldn't quite hear that. "

Rising his head, Cheek stood up straight squaring his shoulders. Gazing directly at the hare he spoke clearly. "I'm sorry Basil, won't happen again."

Basil shook his head. "I should say not. No sense 'apologizing t'me young sir, t'wasn't me you punched in the bally jaw now was it, wot wot." He tapped his small wooden walking stick on the chair leg a moment before continuing. "Why would you do such a thing Cheek, it isn't like you at all?"

Cheek lowered his head again. "They were all picking on me, I wasn't in the mood."

Sighing heavily Basil ceased his tapping, laying the stick across his lap. "If that was the case, you tell the chaps' t'boil their heads, not go about punching good creatures. I raised you to be a gentlebeast not a bally scoundrel. "When the otter said nothing he reached out with his walking stick tipping Cheeks chin up till their eyes met. "Isn't like my Cheek to be in a foul mood. Go on then, wot have you to report. Tell this old foggy all about it wot."

"It's nothing." Cheek said quickly.

"You've caused a lot of commotion for just nothing. Speak your mind young otter; let us get to the bottom of all this mess. "Withdrawing his stick, he sat back giving Cheek space to speak.

Clearing his throat several times Cheek began nervously. "It's… Well… It's Tummscoff. When he decided to join up with the Long Patrol, you were overjoyed. You helped Mr. Churchmouse copy those old maps from the Abbey archive and everything. But, when I wanted to go with him, you told me my place was here. "

"Cheek, Tummscoff comes from a long line of fighting hares. 'tis in his blood to patrol and fight vermin. Salamandastron isn't the place for a jolly otter lad such as y'self. I miss the young scallywag as much as you, but you young sir belong at Redwall among peaceful creatures."

"I want adventure, Basil. " Cheek said longingly. "When you first found me, I was living all alone in the woodlands. I hardly think another little adventure though Mossflower would do me any harm. 'sides I've already fought vermin."

"Yes, as a young rip you did see some action. Don't forget my lad, when we fought against Slagar and Malkariss we had a number of good comrades with us. We would have been in a great deal of trouble had it not been for the jolly ole Guosim, and Sparra warriors. That's not including Orlando or the warriors of Redwall; you were hardly fighting in single combat laddie buck. "

Cheek sighed heavily. "If I were a hare you would've let me go in a heartbeat. "

Basil's ears drooped some, hurt by the quick statement. "Now now Cheek, y'know that isn't true."

"Isn't it? I've listened all winter to the stories of bygone battles. You always approved of the way Tummscoff's eyes lit up. You taught the both of us, how to hide in the woodlands, how to bob and weave. Yet you let Tummscoff go, and I have to stay back. "

"That's because you're my son Cheek, and I'm not about to let anything happen to you. " Both creatures paused gazing towards each other a moment. Shaking his graying head Basil raised a paw. "I suppose every bird has to jolly well fly the nest sooner or later wot? If you're so set on adventure, this is wot I propose; Skipper of Otters and his crew are at their spring fishing camp along River Moss. No more than a day's march away I should think. At first light tomorrow, head out there, and tell the good Skipper that Basil Stag Hare sent you. Might do you a touch of good to spend time with other otters your own age, eh wot. Spend a few weeks with that lot, it will build character, and give you a bit of flippin' adventures. Afterwards, you nip back to Redwall and we can discuss what you might like t'do long term. Now, how does that scheme sound t'you?"

"Top notch Basil." The young otter beamed. "I'll start packing." Cheek turned, about to scamper off when Basil stopped him.

"Steady in the ranks young Cheek, there is still the matter of the crack y'gave to young Sam Squirrel."

Cheek's whiskers drooped. "Oh, right. What do you want me to do?"

Basil scratched his chin trying to think of appropriate punishment. "A proper apology is in order I should say. A written one should suffice, be sure to let the chap know how jolly sorry you are for the mishap. Next y'ought to take on the rest of his chores, let the squirrel chap relax while you do all his duties. See Sister Pansy, perhaps she has some pans t'scrub. That's the sort of disciplinary action these Redwall types like t'assign young rips isn't it? "Squinting one eye, the aged hare thought on the punishment. It didn't seem to be quite enough, so he quickly added. "No second helpings, and no dessert following supper. "

Cheek didn't mind the thought of extra chores or apologizing, he was truly sorry for striking Sam. However, no second helpings of Abbey food, and no dessert. His heart sank, especially when he knew Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse were preparing a special berry crumble to celebrate the planting of the gardens. "Bit much don't you think Basil?" Cheek pouted some.

"Hardly, in my day you'd be landed on a fizzer for such actions. Off y'go young sir. I hope you've learned a bally lesson from all this wot. "

Bowing his head Cheek left to start the tasks assigned to him. On the way he passed Matthias the Warrior. The mouse stepped aside winking at the young otter, before strolling from the kitchens to cavern hole. "You didn't beat him too hard I see." He smiled at his old friend. "

Standing slowly the old hare leaned on his walking stick. "Would have chopped off his rudder, but the poor chap might topple over. An' he's funny looking enough as is."

"No, a rudderless otter would be a sad sight." Matthias had heard some of the conversation so he asked. "Are you certain about letting him go?"

Fixing his waxed whiskers Basil nodded slowly. "If I keep him here much longer, the young buck will just grow to resent me. Sometimes I forget what it was like to be that age, full of blood an' vinegar, looking for adventure around every turn. This will be good for Cheek."