This is the transcription of posts from ten different contestants in an offsite forum. One by one, they'll be eliminated until only the winner remains. Your vote counts! Please join us by clicking "Midnight Mossflower II" from our user page.

Chapter 7. A Meeting Chanced in Solitude

by Kapler

"Who's there, besides foul weather?"

"One minded like the weather, most unquietly."
~ From The Tragedy of King Lear

"Is it just you? Any family or friends?"

"Just me." Some of the questions had caused him pause, but Kapler didn't even have to think about that one.

"Hm, that makes it easier to find you a spot." The recorder scratched something down on parchment and consulted a thick book. Flipping through several pages, he stopped and smiled. "Looks like Doctor Song's room isn't filled up yet. I'll stick you in there." Leaning back in his chair, he cupped his paws and shouted outside. "Bounder!"

A harried-looking mouse appeared at the doorway. "Yes, Brother Quincy?"

"Would you take Kapler here to Doctor Song's room? He'll be staying there."

"Sure, okay. Come on, mate."

Kapler slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped after. "Thank you, Quincy, sir."

The hare smiled warm enough to melt the frost still clinging to Kapler's fur. "That's what I'm here for. Welcome to Redwall."

Following after Bounder, Kapler trudged through the snow towards the main abbey building. Stamping their cold footpaws on the steps, they pulled open the large double doors. Warm air tumbled out, eager to explore the outside world.

"Inside, quick. Don't let all the heat out." Slamming the door behind him, Bounder motioned around him with a sincere lack of enthusiasm. "Welcome to Redwall."

"Thanks." Kapler nodded and stared at the mass of occupants, silently contemplating how much uncared for stuff must be strewn about this place. He took his bag off his shoulder and hugged it to his chest, not wanting to chance losing it.

"Stay close to me." Bounder began pushing through the crowd, Kapler scrambling to follow after.

""Scuse us, matey! Comin' through."

Distracted by a tapestry on the wall, Kapler was pulled out of the way by his guide. A pair of otters barreled past, muscles surging under their clothing. carrying what looked like a sleeping cat.

Kapler watched the two shouting otters disappear around the corner. "Busy day?"

"You have no idea."

As Bounder led Kapler through the Abbey, they passed by creatures of all sorts, both woodlanders and vermin. The hallways were crowded with bodies and chatter, a buzz that grated against Kapler's ears. After traversing several hallways and staircases, the pair arrived at a closed door.

"Here's where you'll be staying. There's a cot inside. I'm sure Doctor Song will welcome you right quick. If the ol' hedgehog remembers to come back, anyways." Bounder laughed at what must have been a private joke and scurried down the hall.

With not many other options, Kapler opened the door and entered the room. Inside, another mouse was crouched down, tending to something. "Hello?"

Turning around, the mouse smiled. "Oh, hello. Are you the other one staying with Doctor Song?"

"Er, yeah. I'm Kapler."

"Twoflower. I'm a healer."

Moving closer to peer around Twoflower, Kapler saw the cat from earlier stripped of his clothes and sprawled on a cot. He looked well-fed but sickly. "Who's that?"

"Not sure. We found him unconscious outside the front gate."

"What's wrong with his fur? Some kind of disease?" Kapler backed away several steps. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to be rooming with this cat. If it was some kind of sickness, close quarters with him was the last thing he wanted.

"Not sure, actually." Noticing Kapler's anxious face, Twoflower smiled. "Don't worry. Doesn't look like mange. Or any kind of disease."

Kapler stared at the unconscious cat, his mottled skin like upturned sod, thin fur sprouting tenaciously here and there. "Are you…are you sure? I mean, I've seen pictures of cats and they didn't look like him."

Twoflower ran a gentle paw across the cat's scabbed skin. "I think he's a different kind of cat."

There are different kinds of cats? Kapler swallowed. Isn't one kind enough?

A knock at the door and a green-habited squirrel pushed into the room. "Hey Twoflower! Sister Laura's dibbuns aren't feeling well again. She's wondering if you can take a look."

"Probably chewing on candlesticks again." Twoflower pulled several blankets over the cat, carefully arranging them up around his chin. "All right, I'm on my way."

She was going to leave him alone with this cat? "Uh, so, you'll come back after that? I mean, what if he dies or wakes up or something?"

"He's just exhausted." The mouse gathered her things and slipped them into her bag. Stopping by the door, she looked at Kapler. "Come find a brother or sister when he wakes up. We need to find out who he is."

"But, what if…"

And then she was gone.

With a slow, almost comically so, spin on his heel, Kapler stared at the only other occupant in the room.

The cat thrashed under the blankets, a tussling mound of fur and fabric that ended with the disgraced blanket on the floor. With fluttering eyelids and a purring rumble in his throat, he settled back into stillness.

Swallowing again, Kapler dropped his bag on his cot and began exploring the room. It was filled to bursting with every random object imaginable. Springs and metal rods balanced precariously, squeezed between books stacked on bowls resting on shelves built into the walls.

After a careful survey of everything, the vole finally decided. A neatly-folded stack of clothing lay on a small end table next to the slumbering cat. On top of those clothes sat a small flask, sparkling in the ambient light. He slinked to the phial but froze when the sleeping figure stirred. Back to sleep, back to sleep. When the cat again settled down, Kapler's breath stuttered out with a skipping hop. His paws were beginning to shake and his ears to twitch. He hoped this Russel Song fellow was keeping himself very busy somewhere.

Muscles tensed, he slowly, slowly reached towards the vial. It glistened smugly, inches away. I shouldn't do this. I just got here. He was almost touching it now. Don't want to get kicked out. His pawtips slid along the smooth glass. It was cool to the touch. Never survive in the snow. Shouldn't do it. Just leave it, Kap. No one's here. Just leave…

Relief crashed down, a deluge of satisfaction washing away his stress as he stared at the small bottle clutched in his paw. It was heavy, comfortably heavy – a dear friend he had just met. He swirled the reddish-brown liquid, mesmerized by its gyrations.

Aren't you a beauty! Tucking his prize into a pocket of his coat, Kapler stretched. When he looked at the cat again, Kapler found himself being examined with a predatory stare. It was like being probed with nettles.

"Um, hello." Kapler smiled, taking care that his smile didn't waver. He had heard somewhere that cats went after weaker creatures. Once he showed he was intimidated, it was all over. His nose twitched.

"Where am I?" The words were curt and clean, laundered and hung out to dry in the chill air.

Kapler resisted the urge to lick his suddenly dry lips. Strong front strong front strong front. "Redwall. You're at Redwall."

"Redwall…Good. Why don't I have clothes on?"

"They found you at the front gate and brought you up here. One of their healers looked you over to make sure you're okay. I'm Kapler, by the way. Got here same time as you." Kapler hoped his words hadn't run together too much.

Benedict picked up the pile of clothes next to his cot, giving it a cursory glance. "Benedict Saltarelli."

"Oh, those clothes are yours?"

Benedict eyed Kapler, something unsettling in his look. "Why?"

"No, no reason. I'll turn around."

While Benedict dressed, Kapler studied a crowded shelf. Its dusty contents screamed to be picked up. A familiar itch started, an irritation that seeped through his limbs like yeast through dough. Kapler glanced quickly at his odd acquaintance.

Benedict was nearly dressed but looked distracted, searching for something in his pockets. He paid no attention to the vole.

A yowl filled the air, vibrating heavily in Kapler's ears. Pounding paws were followed by pounding pressure as he was spun around and slammed against the wall.

Looking much more dignified with clothes, Benedict glared at Kapler. Deadly cat with deadly claws. "Where's my tincture?"

Kapler scrabbled for purchase, claws scratching ineffectually at Benedict's arm. It was like fighting a log. "T-tincture?" As his windpipe slowly deflated, it was harder and harder to think. "Hedge'og took it?"

The pressure increased as the manic cat loomed closer, noses almost touching. The thick scent that rolled off his tongue was cloying, nauseating. "What hedgehog?"

Kapler waved his paws, trying to indicate the room at large. "His place."

The floor embraced Kapler as Benedict swirled away. Curling into a ball, the vole coughed and wheezed. As he calmed, frenetic pawsteps and angry mutterings caused Kapler to look up. He glowered through bleary eyes as his assailant paced around the room, opening cupboards and peering at shelves.

Now that he could actually think, it wasn't hard to figure out what Benedict was searching for. If those were his clothes, it must have been his drink on top. The bottle in Kapler's pocket weighed down heavily, a leaden lump that threatened his conscience.

Crawling to his cot, he slumped down and hugged his bag to his chest, keeping careful watch on the cat. Guilt nagged at him, and he did his best to pay it no mind. The thought of what Benedict would do if he discovered Kapler really had taken his tincture…Nope. No way am I giving it back now.

Benedict appeared in front of Kapler "What's in the bag?"

Kapler couldn't help it; he shuddered. "Not your tincture. I told you I didn't take it."

"Open it."

Kapler jerked away, ears flattened in fear. "No!"

"I am Benedict Saltarelli! You will do as I say."

Anger began to replace fear. He didn't care who this cat was! "I didn't take your tincture. Don't care if you believe me, but you're not looking through my stuff." Kapler matched Benedict's gaze with one hopefully as intense.

It must have worked; a moment later, Benedict clawed at the air and stalked angrily to his cot. Before Kapler could so much as start breathing again, in burst a hedgehog looking much too optimistic for the situation.

"Hello, lads!"