From the records of Sister Hope, recorder of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower Country.
What a wonderful spring this is! Never have I experienced such a calm and peaceful spring. The skies seemed to be painted especially this season the birdsong is almost deafening, and the Abbey lawn looks like a painting with all those wildflowers. The breeze is gentle and the boughs of the trees brush again each other, adding soft rustles to the laughter and song. The weather is perfect, and I would rather be out on the lawn joining the dibbuns and young ones in their frolic than to be stuck in the Abbey building among dusty old scrolls and volumes. Alas, duty calls, and here I take up quill in paw to write.
As mentioned, it is a glorious spring, and we have (probably) unprecedented number of festivities this season. The Spring's naming feast is in three days, and Abbot Clarke's Jubilee feast a week after that.
Down in the cellars, our cellarhog Roffe and a few others are sampling the ales, wines and cordials. I do love a good drink of ice-cold strawberry cordial. The Great Hall is full of creatures putting up decorations and preparing the place for the feast. Even some of the dibbuns have left off their play to gather flowers to beautify the hall. From the window I see the little volemaid Rissa with an entire bouquet of multicoloured flowers stuck behind one ear. She looks a little like a flowerpot, I must say! I'm truly glad that even the young ones have a part to play in this, though they can be silly and exasperating at times.
The Abbey kitchens will have their hands full making all those tarts, scones, cakes, salads, breads, fruits, cheese, pies… I can hardly contain my excitement and my watering mouth. I hear that there is going to be a great cake for Abbot Clarke's Jubilee Feast the next week. Friar Corelli will certainly need help; him and the young mouse Reeger certainly cannot cope with all the food they are tasked to make. I may consider lending my help after I have finished with my writing.The young mouse Reeger used to be a playful young thing. Although it is obvious to all Redwallers that he has a talent for cooking, I cannot help wondering whether he will remain committed to his new role as kitchen helper. Reeger was the Abbey troublemaker; him and that squirrel-whatshisname-Dannvy. I have a feeling that though both of them were always getting punished for their troublemaking, Reeger was the instigator. At least I now can see Dannvy growing up and taking responsibility, but there is still a spark of life, of mischief in our Reeger. Here I digress to relate something I saw in the abbey grounds the other day.
About two days ago I was doing my usual job of recording Abbey happenings when I looked out of the window and saw a dibbun crying in the Abbey grounds. It was Rissa, the little volemaid. She had apparently tripped over a stone in the grounds and her knee was quite badly scraped, from what I could see. She was sobbing for dear life and I was about to put down my pen and go down to assist the poor child when a squirrel ran up to her. Dannvy, it turned out, had heard her sobbing and had especially ran over just to comfort and help her. He also carried her all the way up to infirmary for Sister Cascadia.
That squirrel has a heart and a sense of responsibility that I cannot easily pen in words. I have a gut feeling that he will grow to be a great character.
Here I end my writing. Perhaps I shall go to the Abbey kitchens to help. Or I might visit the cellars for a sip, or I could help in the decorations. There is never the lack of things to do in preparation of Redwall's famed feasts.
Sister Hope(Recorder of Redwall Abbey)
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The first rays of dawn pierced through the thick canopy of the Northern Woods, revealing a small wooden hut in the forest. The hut was made out twigs and branches, poorly built, but yet sufficient to shelter the small family of three who took refuge there. The sunlight was still soft, the wood not quite awake with the sounds of birds, crickets and other manner of creatures when the door on the hut creaked open and a squirrel strolled out. Her fur was a dark red and stood out against her green-and-brown surroundings. Yawning, she stretched and inhaled the fresh morning air.
It was fifteen seasons from the wreck of the Stormbrew, fifteen seasons since Floania had ran with her two babes. No longer an infant, Mistrose, or Misty, as she was often called, had become a small, skinny yet strong squirrel maid. Her brother, Cavan, had grown also, now tall and strong from the hard work of living in the forest.
Misty stood at the door of her home. Her mother and brother were still snoozing in the hut. Never mind, let them sleep. She told herself. Misty rarely woke this early, and was amazed by the silence having been used to the sounds of the woods. Although her family were rats and she, a squirrel, Floania had always treated her like one of her own. She rarely showed favouritism; and even if she did, it was always in her favour.
Misty was completely content with her current life: wake, eat, forage for food, eat, sleep, though now and then she did wonder who she was and her history. She knew nothing of her past except a recurring dream…
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Misty was in a basket, dark, hidden away somewhere. The basket was opened, a face loomed out at her, a squirrel. A squirrel who said "I'll come back for you later" but never did. Something had been looped around her neck, the basket was closed again. Next thing she saw a different face. Floania's.
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Cavan rolled over in his sleep and onto the wooden floor of the hut. Suddenly jolted out of his sleep, he grunted, annoyed, before climbing back clumsily onto his bed. No it was no use, he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Sighing, he laid back and looked to the bed next to his. His mother, Floania was snoring peacefully. Turning to his other side, he notice that the bed was empty. That's strange. Misty doesn't usually get up so early. His sister was a lazy one, refused to get out of bed every morning. He had fond memories on jumping on her and thumping her to get her out. Cavan smiled a little. That was when they were but dibbuns, everything had been fun and play then. Now they were tasked with the heavy responsibility of finding food and firewood to sustain the small family. Every morning the two young creatures foraged for berries and roots, fished in the stream running to the coast, and chopped firewood for a cooking fire. It was hard work, but it brought the two siblings together. Cavan thought back to his first meeting with Misty.
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Cavan had awoke one morning and found his mother missing from his side. He had been scared; it was a different surrounding, a different environment. Then his mother had appeared and carried him. But there had been another babe in his mother's arm that morning. A squirrel. He remembered feeling jealous and had attempted to scratch and bite the other babe. Then his mother, carrying both babes, had ran into the forest, ran to where they now stayed.
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Cavan grinned in remembrance of his childhood. Both had grown fighting, wrestling, squabbling, seeking attention from Floania. They had competed in everything possible. Running, swimming, slinging, throwing sticks, skimming stones on the water. Once they even had an eating contest which about wiped out their food supply for nearly a week. Hah. They sure had good times. But now was different, they had no time to relive their childhood. He shooks and head and laughed.
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Okay. What do you think so far? I got the idea of the Spring's naming feast from Jade TeaLeaf. I'm sorry but I couldn't think of any ideas for a feast. Thanks and I hope you don't mind that I didn't get permission first./
I'm sorry this has taken awhile, but well, I'm pretty busy.(:
PLEASE review!!
Thanks!