The forest chimed softly as the unknown otter made his way to the
abbey dubbed Redwall. The happy noises of spring were unknown to the
stranger, for his hearing was nothing but emptiness. Through his mind, he
made the robin's call and the cardinal's song, but he will never hear those
sounds again.
His small pad and quill were under his arm as he walked on, humming an old tune in his mind. His dark, waterproof fur was sleek and shinny against his black leather belt. His copper eyes glowed with happiness at being in a peaceful place such as this, yet he had a paw on his favorite weapon, a long, thin sword twisted into a spiral. It caught its victims like a viper, cutting into them multiple times. Also like the viper, the traveler depended on sight, smell and touch alone.
He stepped into an open space in the woods, and he saw a weather vane, flittering in the strong winds. With an inaudible whoop of joy, he dashed forward, in the direction of Redwall Abbey. His legs carried him to the gate, of the large and well-known abbey. Timidly, he knocked on the door, testing the vibration to see how loud he had knocked. A squirrel appeared at he top of the wall and called down.
"You there! What's your name?" she called roughly. The traveler remained quiet and didn't even glance up. The squirrel vaulted down and landed behind the otter. Startled at the vibration, the otter whirled around to see the maker of the tremor.
Quickly the otter grabbed his pad and quill and wrote, the squirrel started talking at once.
"When someone calls you, they mean for you to answer. Now, who are you?" the squirrel asked menacingly. The otter looked up at her, quick enough to lip read the word 'who'. He jotted down one more word and gave the pad to the squirrel. The squirrel glanced at the otter, before turning back to the pad.
Forgive me; I am unable to hear anything, as I have lost my hearing a season ago. I cannot speak as well, so please be patient with me. I wish to stay at this abbey, to finally relax. Utopias.
The squirrel, whose name was Triss, nodded sadly, and then began to write on the paper, messier, slower, and miss spelling a few words. After rereading what she had wrote, she murmured.
"This is why I'm not the Recorder." She handed the pad back to Utopias.
I am Triss. Wellcom to RedWall abby.
Utopias smiled and bowed to Triss, his paw still fixed on his coil- like weapon. Triss nodded, then escorted the otter inside by vaulting up the wall and opening the gate. At last, Utopias felt he had made it home. Abbey babes, known as Dibbuns, were running around the courtyard playing. Many older abbey dwellers were sitting near a pound where a pike lazily jumped into the air. An old mouse came out to Triss, followed by a young squirrel maid and a young mole.
"Triss, I see you have found our knocker. Hello, I am Amodeous, the Abbot of Redwall abbey." The mouse said holding out his paw. The otter had his pad out in a second, and showed the page that he had wrote to Triss. Amodeous took out his glasses and squinted at the pad. "Hmmm, I see." He took the pad and scribbled a few small words.
I am Father Amodeous. Welcome to Redwall abbey.
Utopias read the short letter and smiled again, his eyes shinning brightly. Triss took his paw and led him to where the abbey babes played in the shallows. Utopias joined them quickly, splashing about like a youngster. He rolled in the water, allowing the Dibbuns to giggle madly and try to stay on top of him.
Triss collapsed next to a strong burly otter. He glanced at her and smiled wistfully, watching the deaf otter in the water. Triss looked at him, and sighed.
"What is it about this new otter that bugs you Skipper?" the squirrel asked, breaking Skipper's train of thought.
"Nothing bothers me, just who is he? He doesn't talk at all to the Dibbuns." Skipper said coolly, turning to look Triss in the eye. Triss shook her head.
"Had it ever crossed your mind that he couldn't? That he couldn't hear either?" Triss inquired. Skipper looked taken aback.
"An otter being deaf?" he stared at the joyous otter romping in the water. "But.How?" he asked. Triss shrugged sadly.
"I don't know. But I believe that we can help him talk to us. Without his pad." Triss nodded to the quill and pad that were laying forgotten a safe distance from the water. Skipper grinned and slid slowly over to pick the pad up and hide it in his belt. He jumped back over to Triss and sat quietly as if he had done nothing. Triss laughed, catching the attention of the Dibbuns. They squealed and ran over to her.
Triss gasped and turned to look at Skipper with mock fright. Only, he wasn't there, he was up and running from the little Dibbuns feigning terror. Triss joined him quickly, fleeing from the charging babes. Utopias laughed to himself, watching the two running figures being harassed by the little ones. Never had he known such joy. This is where he belonged; this is where he was meant to be.
His small pad and quill were under his arm as he walked on, humming an old tune in his mind. His dark, waterproof fur was sleek and shinny against his black leather belt. His copper eyes glowed with happiness at being in a peaceful place such as this, yet he had a paw on his favorite weapon, a long, thin sword twisted into a spiral. It caught its victims like a viper, cutting into them multiple times. Also like the viper, the traveler depended on sight, smell and touch alone.
He stepped into an open space in the woods, and he saw a weather vane, flittering in the strong winds. With an inaudible whoop of joy, he dashed forward, in the direction of Redwall Abbey. His legs carried him to the gate, of the large and well-known abbey. Timidly, he knocked on the door, testing the vibration to see how loud he had knocked. A squirrel appeared at he top of the wall and called down.
"You there! What's your name?" she called roughly. The traveler remained quiet and didn't even glance up. The squirrel vaulted down and landed behind the otter. Startled at the vibration, the otter whirled around to see the maker of the tremor.
Quickly the otter grabbed his pad and quill and wrote, the squirrel started talking at once.
"When someone calls you, they mean for you to answer. Now, who are you?" the squirrel asked menacingly. The otter looked up at her, quick enough to lip read the word 'who'. He jotted down one more word and gave the pad to the squirrel. The squirrel glanced at the otter, before turning back to the pad.
Forgive me; I am unable to hear anything, as I have lost my hearing a season ago. I cannot speak as well, so please be patient with me. I wish to stay at this abbey, to finally relax. Utopias.
The squirrel, whose name was Triss, nodded sadly, and then began to write on the paper, messier, slower, and miss spelling a few words. After rereading what she had wrote, she murmured.
"This is why I'm not the Recorder." She handed the pad back to Utopias.
I am Triss. Wellcom to RedWall abby.
Utopias smiled and bowed to Triss, his paw still fixed on his coil- like weapon. Triss nodded, then escorted the otter inside by vaulting up the wall and opening the gate. At last, Utopias felt he had made it home. Abbey babes, known as Dibbuns, were running around the courtyard playing. Many older abbey dwellers were sitting near a pound where a pike lazily jumped into the air. An old mouse came out to Triss, followed by a young squirrel maid and a young mole.
"Triss, I see you have found our knocker. Hello, I am Amodeous, the Abbot of Redwall abbey." The mouse said holding out his paw. The otter had his pad out in a second, and showed the page that he had wrote to Triss. Amodeous took out his glasses and squinted at the pad. "Hmmm, I see." He took the pad and scribbled a few small words.
I am Father Amodeous. Welcome to Redwall abbey.
Utopias read the short letter and smiled again, his eyes shinning brightly. Triss took his paw and led him to where the abbey babes played in the shallows. Utopias joined them quickly, splashing about like a youngster. He rolled in the water, allowing the Dibbuns to giggle madly and try to stay on top of him.
Triss collapsed next to a strong burly otter. He glanced at her and smiled wistfully, watching the deaf otter in the water. Triss looked at him, and sighed.
"What is it about this new otter that bugs you Skipper?" the squirrel asked, breaking Skipper's train of thought.
"Nothing bothers me, just who is he? He doesn't talk at all to the Dibbuns." Skipper said coolly, turning to look Triss in the eye. Triss shook her head.
"Had it ever crossed your mind that he couldn't? That he couldn't hear either?" Triss inquired. Skipper looked taken aback.
"An otter being deaf?" he stared at the joyous otter romping in the water. "But.How?" he asked. Triss shrugged sadly.
"I don't know. But I believe that we can help him talk to us. Without his pad." Triss nodded to the quill and pad that were laying forgotten a safe distance from the water. Skipper grinned and slid slowly over to pick the pad up and hide it in his belt. He jumped back over to Triss and sat quietly as if he had done nothing. Triss laughed, catching the attention of the Dibbuns. They squealed and ran over to her.
Triss gasped and turned to look at Skipper with mock fright. Only, he wasn't there, he was up and running from the little Dibbuns feigning terror. Triss joined him quickly, fleeing from the charging babes. Utopias laughed to himself, watching the two running figures being harassed by the little ones. Never had he known such joy. This is where he belonged; this is where he was meant to be.