Random epilogue for possible story, please R+R, tell me whether or not to
continue...Hopefully not too clichéd...
~
It was the only story that opened with a scream.
It was the story the badgers never told, the tattered parchment scroll that lay forgotten in the shelves of the gatehouse. Its pages had long since worn to near dust, the spidery writing crafted delicately upon them faded with time. No beast had ever got beyond its first ripped pages, for this was no bedtime story. This was a tale of a forgotten time, and a world beyond the walls of Redwall Abbey.
So when Methusalah went hunting in the thick dust, he did not know what he was holding when he pulled out the leather bound scroll. He held it in one hand, studying it carefully through his half moon spectacles. His eyes were old even then, and in the half-light of the gatehouse he could barely even make out the title. Finally, with a heartfelt sigh, he pushed open the gatehouse door.
'Constance, could you read something for me?'
It was harvest season, and the big badger was covered in raspberry juice and apple pips. She walked over to the old mouse, her bulk making her seem clumsy, and yet her face was smiling.
'Yes, Methuselah?'
'I found this at the bottom of the shelf!' he said cheerfully, waving the tome around until it spiralled with dust. Constance sneezed loudly.
'Bless me! What have you got here, then, old mouse? It's not another record of three summer's raspberry picking, is it? Or another of those endless books on the care of bees?'
Methusalah sniffed in disapproval, and the badger grinned.
'Come on, then, let's check this out.'
'Ah, Constance!' came a loud voice from the lawn. 'I was wondering, could you...?'
Abbot Mortimer tailed off as he regarded the parchment.
'Got some more reading material for us, Methusalah? Come on, then, let's hear it!'
The Gatekeeper gave a disgruntled sigh as Constance tenderly opened the book. It creaked hopefully, and Methusalah lovingly dusted the page with a damp handkerchief. Brushing a fly from her fur, Constance put her nose to the page and began to read...
~
It was the only story that opened with a scream.
It was the story the badgers never told, the tattered parchment scroll that lay forgotten in the shelves of the gatehouse. Its pages had long since worn to near dust, the spidery writing crafted delicately upon them faded with time. No beast had ever got beyond its first ripped pages, for this was no bedtime story. This was a tale of a forgotten time, and a world beyond the walls of Redwall Abbey.
So when Methusalah went hunting in the thick dust, he did not know what he was holding when he pulled out the leather bound scroll. He held it in one hand, studying it carefully through his half moon spectacles. His eyes were old even then, and in the half-light of the gatehouse he could barely even make out the title. Finally, with a heartfelt sigh, he pushed open the gatehouse door.
'Constance, could you read something for me?'
It was harvest season, and the big badger was covered in raspberry juice and apple pips. She walked over to the old mouse, her bulk making her seem clumsy, and yet her face was smiling.
'Yes, Methuselah?'
'I found this at the bottom of the shelf!' he said cheerfully, waving the tome around until it spiralled with dust. Constance sneezed loudly.
'Bless me! What have you got here, then, old mouse? It's not another record of three summer's raspberry picking, is it? Or another of those endless books on the care of bees?'
Methusalah sniffed in disapproval, and the badger grinned.
'Come on, then, let's check this out.'
'Ah, Constance!' came a loud voice from the lawn. 'I was wondering, could you...?'
Abbot Mortimer tailed off as he regarded the parchment.
'Got some more reading material for us, Methusalah? Come on, then, let's hear it!'
The Gatekeeper gave a disgruntled sigh as Constance tenderly opened the book. It creaked hopefully, and Methusalah lovingly dusted the page with a damp handkerchief. Brushing a fly from her fur, Constance put her nose to the page and began to read...