Nathaniel woke up the next morning to near silence. The Redwall infirmary was much quieter than the dormitories at Salamandastron, which were always a riot of activity even early in the morning. The lieutenant sat up, stretching and yawning as he blinked sleepily. None of the other hares in his platoon were awake yet, all still snoring blissfully in their beds.

Nathaniel swung his legs out of bed, shivering slightly as his footpaws touched the cold stone. Dressing himself in a plain blue tunic that he reserved for being off-duty, he stretched as he left the infirmary and entered the rest of the Abbey. There were no other Redwallers out and about either; Redwall's bells weren't even ringing.

Still yawning and stretching, Nathaniel made his way into the abbey's Great Hall. He hadn't been around Redwall much the night before; all of the Long Patrol hares had been exhausted from the journey, and had contented themselves the previous night with staying in Cavern Hole with the rest of the Redwallers, where it was warm.

As Nathaniel walked across the hall's length toward the kitchen, he found his eye drawn to the great tapestry that hung lengthwise across the Great Hall's wall. Nathaniel stopped as he looked at the tapestry, his eyes becoming fixed on the armed and armored mouse that stood in the center, among hordes of fleeing vermin.

"I see you've noticed the tapestry," a voice said from next to him. Nathaniel jumped a bit, turning his head to see Friar Bale standing next to him. The mouse raised his paws, smiling shyly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh, it's alright, sah." Nathaniel turned back to the tapestry. "I say, who is that mouse anyway?"

"Oh, that's Martin the Warrior." Bale folded his paws behind his back and smiled. "He helped build this Abbey after he and his friends freed Mossflower from a wildcat." He nodded to a spot on the wall below the tapestry, where a sword sat on two racks. "That's his sword, actually, there on the wall."

Nathaniel cocked his head in puzzlement. "Y'sure, chap? Looks awfully new to be that old."

Bale shrugged. "Whether you believe it or not, that sword's been with our abbey for countless seasons." He motioned his paw towards the kitchen door. "Aside from my assistants and I, it seems you're the first awake, Lieutenant. Are you hungry?"

"Famished!"

The two proceeded into the abbey kitchens, where a small number of Redwallers were already up and about. The smells of baking bread, oatcakes, oatmeal, and hot tea were already filling the room, and Nathaniel swallowed as the smells flooded his nose. "I say, what a smashin' aroma!"

"Glad you like it, Lieutenant," said one of the kitchen helpers, an otter with a noticeably large belly, as he put a tray of oatcakes on a nearby table to cool. "Friar Bale's had us make extra for you and your platoon."

"Be sure to keep stirring that oatmeal, Hayn," Friar Bale reminded the otter as he bustled past. "We don't want it to stick to the pot, remember."

Nathaniel took a pair of oatcakes off of the tray, juggling them back and forth between his paws while he waited for them to cool off. "Is there anything I c'n do t'help, Friar, sah? I don't want t' be a bothah but if y'need an extra pair o' paws…"

"Oh, no Lieutenant, I believe we're fine here." Friar Bale set a plate, a cup of steaming tea, and a good-sized bowl on another table. "Load those up with your breakfast and just relax. You've had a long journey, no need to strain yourself."

Nathaniel shrugged and did so, piling his plate with a few oatcakes, bread, and some oatmeal before balancing everything in his paws as he entered the Great Hall. As he sat down at one of the tables the door to the hall opened again. Yawning sleepily and stretching somewhat, Samuel, Moonspike, Rollo, and Kearn all shuffled into the Great Hall.

"Morning, Lieutenant," Sam said through another yawn. "Did you sleep well?"

"We had a capital rest, thanks," Nathaniel replied, turning to face the young Redwallers. "I think your beds are even better than Salamandastron's!"

"Glad to hear it." Sam looked around the rest of the room. "Is the rest of your platoon not here?"

"No, I'm the first one up. Lads and lasses do need their rest, after we were on forced march for a week." Nathaniel took a bite out of an oatcake, chewing as he looked out of the hall's high windows. "Looks like it'll be another snowy day, wot?"

"Seems so." Sam turned to look at the windows himself. "I don't think we got any more snow during the night, though." He looked back at Nathaniel. "Once your platoon's awake, you think you'd like to join us out on the lawn?"

"Sounds like a proper idea!" said another voice from the hall's door. Willow had been the speaker, and he entered first followed by the rest of the platoon. "We never get snow over at the mountain, wot! Be a right proper thing t'have a good ol' snowball fight!"

"Oi!" Nathaniel stood up and pointed at the kitchen door. "You lot aren't goin' anywhere until you've eaten, wot! Get some scoff and get it down your gullets, then you can go out and throw snowballs!"

"Yes, sir," the platoon chorused, laughing. Nathaniel chuckled too as he shook his head, while Sam slumped down next to him. The squirrel looked the hare up and down, raising a wry eyebrow. Nathaniel noticed and turned his head. "Somethin' up, mate?"

"You and your hares…aren't like I thought you'd be."

"Oh? And what's that mean?"

Sam shrugged, taking one of Nathan's oatcakes off of his plate and biting into it. "Well, I've always heard that the Long Patrol hares are some of the best warriors around. You and that mountain keep the rest of Mossflower safe from sea vermin and whatnot, but I see you and your platoon and…"

Nathaniel nodded, chuckling. "Aye, we aren't the typical Long Patrol hares." He looked over at Sam. "Tell you the truth, chap, this is our first real mission, wot! Never really been off the beach, don'tcha know."

"Really?" Sam's eyebrows rose and his tail straightened up. "I thought…I thought you were all older!"

"Older?" Quill asked, bouncing onto Nathaniel's other side and tugging the lieutenant in tight with an arm around his neck. "Why, ol' Nate here's the oldest of us all and he's only nineteen seasons, wot!"

"Aye, laddy. Barely out o' our leveret years, most of us are!" Tom shook the table as he plopped down on one of its benches. "Salamandastron 'ares learn t'fight almost as soon 's we can walk!"

"That's…wow." Sam shook his head. "I can't imagine growing up like that." He cast a look up at Martin the Warrior's tapestry, and then the sword beneath it. "We don't know any kind of life like that here at Redwall."

"Not your fault, chap." Quinn said, giving Sam a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Must be nice t'live here, not have any worries beyond what th'next day'll bring."

"Alright, you lot, enough of that talk!" Gracepaw clapped her paws together as she sat down with the rest of the platoon, glaring at the group. "Enough o' that dour talk! It's winter and it's a bright day outside! Eat yer breakfast 'n let's go outside!"

"You heard her, chaps," Nathaniel said, grinning while he turned to the rest of the hares. "Eat up quick 'n let's get out in the sun or Gracey's gonna give us all a good rap across the paws with a spoon!"

Abbot Siran smiled gently as he looked out of the Great Hall's windows down on the lawn. Down there the younger Redwallers had once again flooded out onto the lawn, and a snowball fight was in full swing. The Long Patrol hares had also joined in the fray, and the snowballers had formed two teams. The Redwallers were all hiding among the trees in the orchard, taking cover behind the frozen trunks as they hurled snowballs at the Long Patrol hares. The hares, in turn, had constructed a rough snow fort, which some of them were taking cover behind while the rest ducked and dodged around other snowballs. Even Redwall's otter crew had gone out to join the fun, turning the fight into a three-way battle as everybeast threw snowballs indiscriminately.

The sound of a wooden cane scraping on the floor drew Siran's attention to the Great Hall doorway where a mouse, his eyes peeping blearily out from behind a pair of round-rimmed glasses, was slowly making his way inside. Siran fully turned to face him, spreading his arms. "Ah, Brother Maynard! Finally down from the library?"

"Ah, who's that?" Maynard looked around, then finally managed to spot Siran. "Ah, Father Abbot! Yes, yes, I finally decided that it was time to come down. I hope I'm not too late for lunch?"

"No, my friend, not at all." Siran walked over and helped guide Maynard to the window. "You've missed breakfast, but I trust that Kearn brought you something before he went outside?"

"Ah, yes, that he did." Maynard adjusted his glasses as he and the Abbot stood beside one another, watching the snowball fight out the window. "He's a good lad."

"That he is." Siran gave a content sigh. "Did anybeast tell you we have Long Patrol hares as guests?"

"Do we now?" Maynard peered closer towards the lawn. "Ah, so we do! I was wondering why so many of our young'uns had long ears all of a sudden."

"All of them are around the same age as Kearn and his friends, interestingly enough." Siran folded his arms into his sleeves. "It's nice, having so many youngsters at Redwall again. I don't believe we've ever had so many, even when I was young."

"It does warm these old bones," Maynard said. "Makes me wish I was younger and could go out and join them."

"Me too, old friend." Siran put a paw to his chin, looking out worriedly as Nathaniel jumped on top of the hare snow fort. Siran's ears pricked up as a loud "Eulaliaaaaaa!" managed to get through the windows right before the hare lieutenant took a flying leap, landing on Skipper Tulgrow and bearing him down to the ground. Otter and hare began to wrestle one another, throwing snow everywhere as the otter crew charged the hare fortifications.

"I do worry for them, though," Siran said as he watched the battle. "I met them all when they arrived, Maynard…they're all so young. If what they're saying is true, and vermin do attack the abbey…"

"You worry that it will destroy them?" Maynard asked, looking up at Siran. "Nobeast is truly prepared for war, my friend. It is what we do within that time of crisis that defines what we truly are. And the Salamandastron hares are nothing if not brave and selfless." He looked down into the yard as Nathaniel was pinned underneath Tulgrow, only for the Skipper to be dogpiled in turn by some of the platoon's hares and a number of otters from his own crew. "For now, let them relax. If the vermin do indeed arrive, it would be better for them to go into battle with fond memories of the happy times they had here, rather than with hearts full of worry." He turned back to Siran. "And besides, aren't Log-a-Log Drifter and his shrews supposed to be arriving for the spring? They would definitely be an enormous help in dealing with these vermin."

"That they are." Siran nodded, his expression calming a great deal now that he remembered. "Thank you, Maynard, for remembering that. I'd almost forgotten in all of this hustle and bustle."

"No trouble at all, my friend." Maynard began to make for the nearest chair. "In any case, these old legs of mine are starting to wear out. What would you say to some tea and scones while we wait for lunch?"

"That sounds very nice, Brother Maynard." Siran walked off towards the kitchens, already calling for Friar Bale.

Nathaniel breathed heavily as he looked up at the cloudless winter sky, his tunic covered in snow. All around him lay the other participants in the snowball fight, with otters, hares, and other young Redwallers that had gotten caught up in the playful fight that had resulted from Nathaniel's attack on Skipper Tulgrow. Tulgrow and Nathaniel lay next to one another, after the dogpile on top of them had finally broken up.

"Well…" Tulgrow sat up, still panting heavily as he grinned down at Nathaniel. "Now that we got that out of th' way…" He extended a paw. "Skipper Tulgrow. Nice t' meetcha, mister…?"

"Nathaniel." Nathaniel sat up and took Tulgrow's paw. "Lieutenant Nathaniel Longlegs Oakear, of the Long Patrol. Nice t'meet you, Skipper, sah."

Skipper stood up, helping Nathaniel to his feet. "I gotta say, I've never met a Long Patrol 'are…but you and yours can throw a mean snowball."

"T'ank ya kindly, sah!" said one of the hares where he lay. "We don't get much practice though, wot!"

"Get up, Lefty, I know for a fact you're not hurt!" Nathaniel said. The hare got up, and was soon followed by the other creatures in the yard, dusting snow off of tunics and habits. Some of the hares and otters began chatting amongst themselves, swapping names and compliments about throws.

"Hoi, dad!" A pair of younger otters around the age of Nathaniel and his platoon waded over through the snow, lifting their paws in greeting to both Nathaniel and Skipper. "You alright?"

"Just fine," Skipper said. He turned his head back to Nathaniel and gestured in the direction of both otters. "These two ruffians here are m'sons. Elek, Kay, tell th' lieutenant hello."

"'Ello there, mister lieutenant," Kay said. He was taller than his brother, and a pair of gold earrings hung from one ear in contrast to his brother's shark tooth necklace. Both were soaked in snow, their tunics damp along with their fur. "I think I got ya once."

"Hard to tell, chap," Nathaniel replied, giving the otters a lopsided grin. "I took more'n a few to th' face, wot!"

"Hey, all of you!" Bell flapped down from an open abbey window, looking around at all three groups. "Friar Bale sent me to tell you all that he's got soup ready for you, if you want to warm up after this."

"Hotroot soup, Bell?" Skipper asked with an eager smile. Bell rolled his eyes noticeably and gave Skipper a gentle swat in the head with his wing.

"Yes, you crazy riverdog, hotroot soup." Bell flinched at the great cheer the otters sent up, while Nathaniel looked at Skipper askance.

"Hotroot soup? Wuzzat?"

"Only th' best tastin' soup you'll ever eat in yore life, lieutenant!" Elek said as he wrapped an arm around Nathaniel's neck and began hauling him towards the door. "Y'gotta try it, won't be the same beast after!"

"'E's right," Kay added as he pushed on Nathaniel's back. "It'll warm ya up, too!"

"That's somewhat true, I guess," Bell said as he watched the two younger otters take Nathaniel inside the abbey.

"I gotta say, Nate," Skipper said, struggling not to laugh as he watched Nathaniel guzzle an entire tankard of cold mint tea to cool his burning mouth. "Took ya a while to start t' appreciate the flavor, eh?"

"Oh, leave 'im alone, Skipper!" Rollo said from within the folds of his blanket as he ate some of the vegetable soup that Friar Bale had also made. "It's not his fault, your boys tricked him!"

"Well, I think he handled it remarkably well…at first," Abbot Siran said as he refilled Nathaniel's tankard. The hare immediately began to drain it again, while the other Long Patrol hares laughed. He patted Nathaniel on the back as the hare heaved forward, breathing heavily. His cheeks and ears flushed red, he looked up at Skipper and shook his paw at him, a fierce grin on his face.

"Come spring, chap, I'm gonna box ya into next week, wot!"

"Hey now, Nate," one of the other members of the otter crew said. "You want a piece of our Skipper, you're gonna have t' go through us!"

"An' we stand by our offisah, wot!" Quill said, jumping on one of the Great Hall's tables and shaking a fist at the otter crew. "We'll do you for that!"

"You'll what?"

"Enough, all of you!" Siran got between the otters and hares, waving his arms. He shook his head, smiling at the banter. "It might make an interesting event, Salamandastron hares against Redwall otters. We could hold it at the spring feast!"

"Whatever makes ya happy, Father Abbot," Skipper said, folding his arms and smirking at Nathaniel. "I'd be happy t'box this long-eared buffoon."

"Then it's settled." Siran looked from side to side, drawing the pair together. "Now, I want you both to shake paws and put this behind you. Hm?"

Both creatures stared at one another, Nathaniel arching an eyebrow while Skipper rolled his eyes. Both then shook, flashing one another genuine smiles. "Sorry, Nathaniel," Skipper said. "Gotta admit, though…"

"Yes, quite droll." Nathaniel shook his head. "But next time, challenge me t'eat something other than that soup, wot! I'll eat you under the table!"

"You're on." Skipper winked at the hare. The rest of the day, and indeed the winter, passed without incident. Days were filled with fun in the snow, while at night the Long Patrol hares regaled the Redwallers with tales of Salamandastron's badger lords and the adventures of the Long Patrol. Redwallers, in turn, told stories of Martin the Warrior and other abbey heroes. These stories, accompanied by the customary Redwall food and drink, made each night one to remember.