Right, in case you just picked a random story and have no clue what this is, here's a longer summary:

Pretend for a moment that just after Matthias, champion of Redwall, cut down the Joseph Bell to crush Cluny the Scourge beneath, there was a gap in time. Suddenly, inexplicably, all the animals, all the hordebeasts, all the mice of Redwall simply disappeared. Here we are, several centuries later.

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The raven circles in the air above the forest, swooping gracefully over the treetops, blue-black feathers gleaming in the pale sunlight.

It glides slowly downwards, finally breaking through the trees and into a clearing. The bird alights upon a small block of red sandstone and cocks its glossy head, black eyes glittering inquisitively at the scene ahead.

The highest point, higher even than the surrounding trees, is the tip of a bell tower. The red material is worn and cracked in places, yet still it stands. The bell that should have hung there, visible in the window at the top, is no longer there. Its resting place is at the bottom of the tower, far below, where it lies split in two for all eternity.

Far from the tower is a long, crumpled pile of sandstone, the remains of the wall, the wall that was built to protect the buildings within. The great wooden gate lies rotting on the road, the sandstone arch where it belongs in ruins, next to the small, collapsed structure that once was the gatehouse.

The main building was large, of majestic shape and design. Now it is nothing but a skeleton of its former self, the many windows dark and empty, the shingles of the roof falling off in some places. Ivy clings close to the walls, wrapping the structure in its loving embrace, green strands twined around corners and through cracks.

Once there were windows of colored glass, below the eaves of the roof. Now shattered, shards of the rainbow scattered in the emerald-green, untended grass.

The group of trees and grass in the middle of the grounds was once an orchard. Long ago the plants were meek and carefully kept. Now the saplings grow tall and strong, bearing fruit that is never picked, but falls roting to the ground. The prized strawberries grow wild, tangled vines wrapping around the bases of the trees.

There used to be a pond to the left of the orchard, sparkling blue in the clear spring sunlight. Now it is dull, green and gloomy, choked by the waterweeds that grow thick around its edge. No fish swim there - there is only a skeleton, the skeleton of a grayling, resting on the pebbled bottom forevermore.

The raven glides slowly towards the roof of the main building, pecks experimentally at the creepers of ivy, stares in fascination at the colored glass. Then, without a second thought, it takes flight and sets off into the cloudless sky.

Leaving Redwall Abbey behind it.

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Review!! I don't know how many people actually read Redwall stuff, but hey, I can dream, can't I?