The abbot's door was locked. Tim, a young mouse with grey fur, stood staring at the doorknob. It was forbidden to go into the abbot's room, yet Tim felt the urge to open the door. It was as if someone was calling to him, asking him to come in.

"What are you doing?"

Tim jumped. "Oh, Abbot Markus. You frightened me."

Abbot Markus was an ancient mouse with a hunched back. "My son, you know my study is off limits. Why would you disobey me?"

Tim twisted the sleeve of his light-green habit nervously. "I was just... just... Oh, I'm sorry, Father Abbot."

The Abbot's stern gaze softened. He wrapped his frail arm around Tim's shoulders and led him down the hall. "What am I to do with you? So curious. You know what they say: 'curiosity killed the wildcat.' Hehe."

"I know, Father. It's just, you know, you have not let a soul in your room for many seasons. Probably before I was born. Why?"

Abbot Markus let go of Tim and paused in the hallway. "Some things are not meant for goodbeast to see. Of course, when the time comes, there will be nothing for it. But for now, you need not worry. Nobeast does. Understood?"

Tim saw the seriousness and worry in the abbot's eyes and felt guilty. "Yes, understood."

A soft smile came to Abbot Markus' face. He pushed Tim's shoulder playfully. "Now go report back to your job post."

Tim bowed and headed off to the infirmary. On his way across the courtyard Tim ran into Lewis, Redwall's Champion. The old squirrel wasn't much of a warrior anymore. His sword was replaced by a walking stick. Comfortable clothes took the place of his armor. There was no need for warriors in Mossflower anyway, Lewis had taken care of all evil long before Tim came into the world.

"Ho there, young un," Lewis said, voice creaky with age.

"Hello," Tim said. "How does your knee fare?"

Lewis bent his leg to show off the new flexibility. "Old injuries catch up to you in old age, but that potion you made took the swelling and pain out of it."

Tim blushed, honored to have helped the legendary Champion. "Th- Thank you!"

Lewis chuckled. "I'm the one who should thank you. Oh, and the Sister wants to see you."

"I was just on my way to the infirmary. See you around, Lewis."

Tim finished his walk across the courtyard and entered the infirmary. Sister Enigma, a hedgehog, was washing her hands in a basin. She looked up, her eyes sharp and clear.

"There you are," she said. "I've got something for you to do."

"Is Merla in need of those herbs again?"

Merla was Abbot Markus' older sister. For the past few seasons, parts of her body have been going paralyzed for periods of time. Last season Merla's whole body save her head and neck went stiff, but she has since recovered. It was a strange disease that not even Sister Enigma could figure out.

"No," Enigma said. "Not yet, at least."

A voice came from the back room. "Is he here?"

That voice belonged to Ren, the otter who walked out of the lounge room popping a candied chestnut in his mouth.

Sister Enigma's sharp eyes turned cold. She picked up a stick and waved it under Ren's fat nose.

"Those are for the dibbun patients," she said. "Not your greedy gut."

"I have to scrape my knee to get a treat?" Ren asked. "That sounds like a bad trade off."

Sister Enigma poked his big belly with the stick. "You didn't hear the dibbun part. Grown beast get no treat from me, unless you count tonic and potions as a treat."

Ren stuck out his tongue. "I'll pass, thank you."

"Did you need me?" Tim asked.

"Aye, It's Davey." Ren said, trying not to laugh. "We were fishing when Davey decided to go for a swim. Oh, you should see him. Fishhooks suck in his rudder, blubbering for a medic. I could've got them out, but he demands a professional."

"I'm sending you on a mission," Enigma said. "You need the experience anyway."

Besides Merla, there has not been any serious cases at the infirmary. Dibbuns with splinters and scrapes, old ones with aches and pains. Those where the regular visitors Tim tended to.

"Yes ma'am," Tim said. "Let me gather my things then I will tend to that poor otter."

Tim filled his first aid kit with supplies, then he made a quick trip to the kitchen to pack lunch. Ren followed him and snuck a few peach dumplings in his mouth. The otter got caught reaching for another dumpling and his paw was smacked by a wood spoon.

"Off with you thief," the little shrew cook said. "Those aren't ready yet. The dumplings need to be brushed with honey, dusted with cinnamon, and served in a bowel of cream."

Ren rubbed his stomach. "If only I could stay for lunch."

Tim left the abbey, led by Ren. They walked into the woods, trudging through the ground covered in ferns. It wasn't long before they came to the stream. Two otters were basking in the soft heat of a midsummer's day, fishing lines casted and footpaws propped up on moss. They waved hello.

"Ahoy maties," Tim said with a smile.

"Ahoy," one otter said. "Our friend Davey is in need of professional medical attention."

Ren giggled.

"He's over there," the second otter said. "Sitting on the bank."

Tim and Ren walked over to Davey, who wasn't far from the other two. He had his rudder cooling in the stream.

"You shouldn't do that," Tim said. "The dirty water could cause an infection."

Davey's eyes went wide and he pulled his rudder out of the stream. "No, not an affection! Whatever that is. I don't want to find out. Oh, my poor rudder! It hurts."

"Let me see it."

Davey put his rudder in front of Tim. Sure enough, there were three fishhooks stuck in the powerful tail.

"How is it?" Davey asked. "Will you have to cut it off?"

Tim chuckled and shook his head. "No. I'll pull out the hooks, put a salve on it and bandage it up."

Tim reached toward Davey's tail and a look of horror came over the otter's face. He scrambled backwards away from Tim.

Ren laughed. "He did the same thing to me."

Tim elbowed Ren. "It won't hurt that bad. Just close your eyes and-"

Davey picked up a rock and held it threateningly. The smile left Ren's face. Tim took a step back. Before anybeast had a chance to speak, an arrow thudded in Davey's chest. He swayed for a second, then crumbled to the ground.

Tim and Ren turned to see a rat armed with a knocked bow, pointed directly at them. Behind him where a dozen other rats armed with spears.

"Don't nobeast move," the archer rat said. "Er else ye'll end up like yer friend."


A/N: Thank you for reading the first chapter. I've been writing this story in the lonely hours after work. I know how I want it to turn out, but I haven't got a solid outline. So, we'll see how it goes.

Fun fact: Badgers eat hedgehogs.