(This story contains some risqué subject matter, albeit in a roundabout manner. If that offends you, you may not want to read it. It also contains some minor spoilers for Highwing's "The Crimson Badger.)

"Well, there they go at last," Fepple noted as the latest entourage of Northland shrews to overnight at Redwall filed out through the doors of Great Hall to continue their journey south to lower Mossflower.

"Good riddance, says I," Padrig muttered sourly to his fellow Guosim. "One night's about all I can stand of 'em."

"Aw, c'mon, these fellas t'weren't that bad," said Cord, a somewhat larger and burlier shrew, whilst munching on a pear left over from his breakfast. "Nowhere near so bad as th' ones who were here a fortnight ago, anyway."

"Maybe not," Padrig shrugged, "but they c'n still get on yer nerves somethin' fierce."

Padrig and his two companions were enjoying breakfast by themselves at one of the long tables in the Great Hall of Redwall Abbey, where the shrews of the Guosim had spent the winter months, as had been their custom ever since the time of Matthias. This was their first winter since Urthblood's victory at the Battle of Salamandastron, and now the cold grip upon the lands slowly and grudgingly relaxed to give way to the bloom of spring. It was still too brisk for the Abbey dwellers to partake outdoor meals, and so Great Hall was packed with beasts whenever time came for their large communal breakfasts, lunches or dinners. The three shrews there now, however, had volunteered for lookout duty that night, and so had awakened later than most of their fellows. As such, they took their meal mostly in privacy, only a few other late risers in the Hall doing the same.

"Hafta agree with ya there," Fepple nodded at his friend's assessment of the Northlanders. "Never thought I'd say it, but I acshually found th' stoat an' weasel livin' here more agreeable."

Padrig made a sour face. "Well, I'd not go that far, matey." While he had come to accept that the two vermin residents of Redwall weren't bad creatures, he still had a long way to go before he would think of their kind as beasts to socialize with. "But 'tis a shame that us an' our northern kin mix like oil an' water."

Since midwinter, Urthblood had ordered hundreds of his shrews down from the Northlands for reasons unknown. Many of them had passed by Redwall on their journey, and chosen to spend a night or two there, though never longer than that, as their mission in Mossflower was apparently quite important.

If anybeast had expected the two groups of shrews to get along, they were bound to be surprised. While shrews were famous for arguing with each other, the relations between the Northerners and the Guosim emerged as frosty bordering on outright hostility. The Northlanders carried themselves with an air of superiority over their Mossflower counterparts, as if their training under Urthblood and their campaigns with the Badger Lord made them worthier as beasts. The Guosim for their part scoffed at such arrogance and kept to themselves as much as possible.

"I worry what'll 'appen once they settle down in Mossflower," Cord put in. "With their kinda attitude, who knows what th' mood'll be once we start travellin' those parts again."

"I know Log-a-Log's grateful t' Lord Urthblood fer savin' 'is son from th' searats," said Fepple, "but I worry may'ayps 'ee's allowin' that big red bruiser too much leeway in lettin' 'is shrews set up shop in our lands. 'Fore y' know it, they'll be callin' themselves th' true rulers of the woodlands, not us."

"Not t' mention," said Padrig, "havin' 'em 'round might drive more of our shrews into Snoga's camp - assumin' that snotnosed pipsqueak even survived th' winter out on his own." He wrinkled his snout in distaste at the memory of the vicious little shrew who constantly asserted himself as the true leader of the Guosim. Ever since their tense first encounter with Urthblood the summer before, which had led to bloodshed on both sides thanks to the bellicose rebel shrew's stupidity, Snoga had tried to use the badger's presence in Mossflower and the vermin he kept under arms as proof that Urthblood sought to rule all the lands with an iron fist, and to paint the current Log-a-Log's good relations with Urthblood as a sign of his unfitness to lead the southern shrew tribes. More than a few of the Guosim had sadly come to agree with Snoga and crossed over to his faction.

"Indeed," Fepple nodded. "I might dislike th' Northlanders, but I definitely prefer 'em to Snoga. But th' way they act, they might soon just as well- "

"- t'was the sweetest pie

That ever was,

The sweetest cream

You'd ever had…"

The shrews promptly broke of their conversation and turned with wide eyes upon hearing the youthful voice behind them. Cuffy the dormouse happily skipped by the gathered shrews by the side of the table facing the wall, merrily singing out his tune. Behind the youngbeast came Sister Aurelia, the Abbey's Infirmary Keeper, wearing her usual stern expression.

"Cuffy, I told you to stay put!" the frazzled mousemaid called out after her charge in exasperation.

She would probably have passed right by the three shrews without a second thought, but Padrig stopped her with an upheld paw. "Eh, is that rascal yers, marm?"

Aurelia stopped and gave the trio an apologetic look. "He is my charge, if that's what you were asking. I'm sorry if he bothered you."

"Oh, not at all!" Padrig waved her concerns aside. "We're used t' that kinda commotion in th' Guosim. We were jus' wonderin', um… what was that 'ee were singin'?"

"Oh, that?" Aurelia looked after Cuffy, who had by now met up and started innocently jostling with some of his playmates. "It's a little tune the children have picked up from the Northland shrews. It's called 'Sweet Cream Pie'."

The eyes of the Guosim went wide. "They have that song in th' North too?" Cord asked in amazement.

"Oh, you know of it?"

"Sure do – it's a popular ditty we sometimes sing durin' our late night jamborees. But, um… may I ask why ye're lettin' yer liddle ones sing it?"

Aurelia gave him a puzzled look. "Why wouldn't I? Unless your version is significantly different, you know that it's just a silly little verse about a mousemaid in love with a dashing warrior, but she's too shy to approach him and unsure if she's worthy of his heart. Then one day she comes up with the idea of baking a sweet cream pie for him and it tastes so good that the two instantly fall in love and spend the rest of their seasons together. Where's the harm in that?"

The shrews looked at each other, unsure how to explain the matter to Aurelia, torn between treating the matter seriously or simply bursting out in laughter. Finally, Padrig returned his gaze to her, unable to keep a subdued grin from the corners of his mouth.

"Um, I hates t' break it to ye, but… that's not what th' song's about…"

Aurelia's blank expression showed that she clearly had no idea what Padrig was talking about. "What else could it be about? I don't see anything in it that would be unsuitable for tender ears."

"Well, it's kinda… bawdy. I mean, don't ye recognize the undertones to it…?"

"No, I really don't…" The mouse just shook her head while eyeing the shrew suspiciously. Padrig supposed he ought not be surprised; Aurelia was known for being quite prim and proper, despite her relatively young seasons, and… unworldly enough in certain areas that the true meaning of the song might very well have escaped her. But he felt obligated to enlighten her about it.

He wagged his clawtip for her to come closer and bend down so he could whisper in her ear, which was probably safest given that there were still enough beasts in Great Hall to overhear them. "Well, y' see, it's actshually about…"

As he continued his hushed explanation, Aurelia's face and ears grew redder and redder, until Padrig's friends couldn't keep from giggling at her shocked countenance. When he finished, she raised herself back with a look of disbelief on her face.

"Is… is that what it's…?"

"'Fraid, so, marm."

"But… no, it can't be, can it…?"

"Well, ain't it obvious?" Padrig didn't even try to hide his grin now, while Cord and Fepple had progressed to openly sniggering. "Why else would she be presentin' the pie to 'im on 'er knees…?"

"Isn't that just because she wants to make the occasion special?" Aurelia asked apprehensively.

"Oh, she certainly wants t' do that," he chuckled. "But why is it then that she seems t' be th' one who 'eats' th' pie rather than 'im?"

"I… did think that a little strange," Aurelia admitted shakily, before pulling herself together in a stern look. "But aren't you just letting your own dirty little imaginations run free now? I think you may be seeing meanings that aren't there in the song, and you interpret it to-"

She was interrupted by Cuffy running past her again, having resumed his previous ear-catching tune.

"A slice so nice an' large she got,

Its cream so rich an' sweet,

Th' warrior moanin' in delight

O'er her well-baked treat…"

Aurelia and the shrews just stared after the young dormouse for a moment. Then the three Guosim lay bent forward over the table, laughing uproariously as tears started to roll down their cheeks. If they'd managed to keep their talk with the mouse healer discreet before, now everybeast in Great Hall turned their eyes toward the guffawing beasts. Even Cuffy stopped singing and toddled back in curiosity to where Aurelia stood by beside them, her face beet-root red in anger and humiliation.

Looking down at the young beast as he stared at the laughing shrews, she led him away by his shoulder. "Come. This is no suitable company for a child."

"What wurr 'ey laughin' 'bout," Cuffy asked, the sound of the shrews' howlin in the background.

"Very bad shrew humor," the fuming mousemaid responded.

She contemplated for a moment whether to tell the children to stop singing the song, but decided against it. That would probably just cause resentment, not to mention a lot of awkward questions. Best to let it be an innocent little love song of a mousemaid and a warrior sharing some sweet cream pie for now. If they were ever going to learn elsewise, let them do so in their own time.

Though she couldn't help but think: "Is that attitude the reason I didn't understand it?"

Well, I finally did what I had wanted to do for some time and wrote a short story based on Wing's work. Can you believe I originally planned One Leg To Stand On to be a single chapter?

So this is a little farcical number, because Lord knows I like to include naughty humor in my Redwall stories. The main inspiration was Highwing's own Chains of Love, or at least the uncensored verions (when are you ever gonna post it here, Ol' Featherbag?!) and the Led Zeppelin song "Custard Pie". It's not my best work, but I hope it'll entertain you.

I was originally unsure whether to have Maura or Aurelia informed about the real meaning of the song, until Wing pointed out that the badgermom would probably be experienced enough to understand it by herself. Since I wanted it to take place within the timeframe of TUS, I'm afraid that I had to set it only a few months before the tragic events of the Nameday feast. I hope you won't hate me for it.

Thanks again to Wing once more for being a great help with editing!