O O O

A mound of fresh earth lie in the shadow of an apple tree, the pink of apple blossom petals upon it. A squirrel, of a deep reddish fur and wet eyes, watched the mound of earth. She almost appeared to be waiting for something, or even someone. She dabbed the tears from her face.

"Olivia? What are you doing sitting here in the orchard as the sun departs to its nighttime stage?"

Olivia awoke from her daze and realized where she was, in the orchard of Redwall Abbey and thinking about the past, especially about a face departed.

The question that haunted her came to her mouth once again, "Why did he have to go?"

Molvo, the black squirrel, pulled at his whiskers, "The past is the past, that is all."

"It's so much more than that Molvo, he's my brother. He shouldn't have left me, I wish the Dark Forest would have taken my own soul instead of his. Why?"

"Do not go asking such foolish ponderances. Come now, to dinner, everybeast is asking after your beautiful presence and..."

"My beauty shall be untouched."

"What?"

"I have decided Molvo, in honor of my brother, I shall not take the paw of any male. The love of no heart shall penetrate mine until six seasons pass."

Molvo undid his cloak and wrapped it around the crying maid, "There, there, Olivia. Please come inside. I know your loss is great but do not let your mind be tricked by the pains of grief." The dark squirrel knew very well that practically every male squirrel in Mossflower knew of Olivia's beauty and if she did what she said the hopes of many would be froze. The dark squirrel began to lead her in the direction of the main building of the Abbey.

"No, I am serious Molvo, for six seasons I will not accept the courting of any the Romantics of any beast."

O O O

"I need her, her wonderful beauty and perfection. She is the only one I could ever consider and love fully with all my heart and soul."

This proclamation came in a room of a house in the branches of a massive oak, the residence of a squirrel warrior, known and feared by a noble title: Duke. He paced back and forth in his room, his arms waving about as he spoke to emphasize his phrases, "I need her. Those eyes, that face, that melodic voice, all of her is just...just..."

"I know, perfect," an otter sighed, "You speak of nothing else lately my friend."

"I cannot help such things, she's the loveliest creature I have ever known. Do you understand Valentine?"

The otter stood there tapping his footpaw, his eyes closed.

"Do you under..."

"I wasn't going to respond to your proclamations since if I do so the proclamations continue to grow until there is nothing left to proclaim and your proclamations become the repetitive proclamations of the past in a repeating matter."

Duke, at this point a completely oblivious Romantic, rubbed his chin, "So...you think I should go to her and proclaim my love..."

"Do you hear me Duke?" Valentine yelled into the squirrel's ear, "Get over this love sickness and just...ur..." Something occurred to the otter, like the fact that this argument would drag a long time if he didn't agree, "Yes...go proclaim your love to Olivia."

"Ur..." Duke's eyes dilated at the sudden rush of fear that statement brought on until he burst, "I can't do that! I'll freeze up and make myself out to be a fool of fools."

"I think you're already ending up to be a fool of fools," Valentine muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

O O O

"How could this happen? How could this possibly happen!"

"Please Toby, calm down." The Abbot mouse patted the hare on the back, "If that is Olivia's decision, it is a fine choice and we should respect it. Personally I see no problem with her delaying any engagements in honor of her brother."

"That is not the problem, that problem is not even half of it. We must consider what is best for Olivia. What about her and Andrew?"

A fit of coughing delayed the Abbot's response, an attempt to cover the snickering at the suggestion. Of course, as an Abbot, he couldn't come right out and say the thought that ran through his mind, because it was blunter than what an Abbot should say. His mouth fumble for a better way to say it, "Yes, but Andrew is such a...a..."

"Perfect mate."

"Not exactly the word I had in mind." Simpleton might work the Abbot thought.

Before the hare could ask what word the Abbot had in mind, a squirrel burst into Cavern Hole and promptly flipped over a bench to the floor. The claws of this beast clamped into the table and pulled himself up. Seeing the mouse Abbot and Toby, Andrew placed a goofy grin on his maw. "Hullo there mates, I seem to have had bit too much of the ol' October Ale ya see. Or was it that blackberry cordial? Or the elderberry wine? Maybe all three. And more! Heh," His bushy tail jerked sporadically.

The Abbot repositioned his glasses and experienced another, not so subtle, coughing spell, "Are you intoxicated Andrew?"

"Nope, don't think so," he responded, his words slurred, "I'm not outoxicated either if you must know. I'm not in any of those religious hobbiligosh sects. Ooo, the room is moving like a jelly puddin' on a snorin' mole." Andrew slipped away under the table with a soft thump.

"See," Toby exclaimed, his ears flopping about at the 'proof', "He would be perfect for Olivia."

To hide his true thoughts again, the Abbot coughed event louder. How could she resist that charmer he thought the sarcastic non-Abbot thought.

O O O

"Ahoy dere!" the fox called to a motionless creature draped limply upon a wooden beam floating on the waves. It had been a quiet day for fishing but now it seemed he would be getting the biggest catch he'd gotten for a long time.

He rowed his small fishing boat until it floated beside the figure and he dragged his catch of salt-water logged thing aboard. By closer examination, it appeared to be a squirrel, a very saturated squirrel. He pressed a bag of fresh water to the animal's mouth and the fox picked the seaweed from the squirrel's ears. About this time, when the squirrel's eyes opened, they also widened, and he pushed away from the fox. "Away perilous fox, I am not to be a victim of your evil intentions."

"At de current place, oi doubt ya'd 'ave mut choice matey." After the squirrel had caught its bearings, realize how weak he was, he began to panic. Sighing, the fox continued, "If ya must know squirrel, oi retired frim bein' a pirate long ago and now I'm bury much a neutral on de horizons of der species burrier. Don't get yer tail tied up dere. Name's Antonio, and yers wouldta be..."

A look of incredulous wariness still held the squirrel's expression.

"Really mate, wouldn'ta oi 'ad gutted ya before ya awoke if I was til a scallywaggin' piratee. Anywhoose, ya got aboot notin' of use on yer fer a poor fisherbeast, I woulda left ya afloaten if I was 'eartless. Come ons, wot be yer name."

In some weird way, this convinced the dazed squirrel, "Seb, good sir," the squirrel answered, shaking the grimy presented paw.