1

A three-year-old Barabell fidgeted impatiently as Agatha ran a brush through her fur. She looked down at her bushy tail. Agatha had stood on it to keep the vixen from trying to run off. Grooming was never a thing Barabell liked, and today was no exception. But it was a must; tonight was the Abbot's Golden Jubilee at Redwall Abbey. All of Mossflower was invited, so Barabell had to look her best.

"Ow!" the vixen yelped. "Mum! That hurt!"

"I'm sorry, Barabell," replied the hedgehog maiden. "But I must do something about your fur. It's always so untamed and shaggy. It takes a lot of force to straighten it out, you know."

"Why can't I just go to the Jubilee the way I am?" asked Barabell.

"It's undignified, my child. Now, take a deep breath for me. This might hurt a wee bit…"

"Ouch!"

"…Sorry…"

Barabell huffed, annoyed.

"Why do we have to be dignified?" she asked.

"Redwall is a dignified place," explained Agatha. "They are generous mice who have allowed us in the forest to join them in a magnificent feast. They shall give us entertainment and joy. We owe it to them by being presentable and dignified as well. There. Now you look like a young foxmaiden."

Agatha pulled her foot from Barabell's tail. Eagerly, Barabell prepared to rush off, but her tail was suddenly gripped by the hedgehog's forepaw. The vixen looked back at her adopted mother with a look of confusion. Agatha wagged the brush in her paw.

"Not so fast, my dear. Your tail is next."

"Oh, come on, Mum!"

Agatha chuckled.

"Here," she began. "While I'm grooming your tail, I'll give you something to occupy yourself with."

Agatha got up from her chair, and walked to a trunk in a lonely little corner of her home. She rummaged around in the trunk before pulling out a piece of bark and a charcoal pencil. She gave these items to the young vixen.

"Draw something, Barabell," the hedgehog suggested as she sat back in her chair.

Barabell picked up the charcoal, and tapped her chin in thought. What to draw? The vixen wasn't sure. Her pale yellow eyes looked around, but nothing in Agatha's home really stuck out. But then, Barabell got an idea.

"Mum?" she started. "What does the "Aboot" look like?"

"The Abbot, you mean?" corrected Agatha. "Well, he's a mouse, for starters."

"Can you tell me about how he looks?"

"Of course. Abbot Nicholas is a grey mouse, with the longest whiskers I've ever seen. He's quite handsome, really. In his prime, he was a muscular mouse, and he worked as a sort of muscleman when the Badgermother wasn't around. Those muscles are gone now, but he's still quite large. Oh, and he also wears his brown Abbot's habit."

As Agatha spoke, Barabell put her drawing skills to the test by trying to draw the Abbot. The young fox bit her lip as she sketched. She had never seen the Abbot, and had only seen mice a few times. But she used her imagination to help her.


"Oh! Barabell! What a nice drawing!"

The vixen had shown her adopted mother her drawing after grooming was complete. Barabell had drawn the Abbot big, like Agatha said he was (parts of him were cut off by the edges of the paper because of how big Barabell had drawn him). His whiskers were wobbly, and his habit looked more like a dress. Overall, it had the air of a dibbun's drawing.

"Thank you, Mum," said Barabell sheepishly. "Do you really like it?"

"I do, my dear," replied the hedgehog. "Oh, I have an idea. Why don't you give the Abbot this drawing at his Jubilee? Others will be bringing him gifts. This will also be a great gift."

Barabell's eyes brightened, and she wagged her bushy tail.

"Ok, Mum," she said. "I'll do it. I bet he's gonna like it, too."

Agatha nodded.

"Can we go now, Mum? I want to give the "Aboot" my drawing now."

"Not quite yet, my dear," Agatha replied. "It's not evening yet. But we can use this time to get dressed. I can't wait to see you in your Jubilee outfit. I made it myself."

With an excited hop in her step, Agatha pulled the outfit in question from that lonely little trunk in that lonely little corner. She held it up proudly. It was a little, light blue dress made of cotton, along with a matching ribbon for Barabell's tail. Barabell looked at it and flinched in disgust. She didn't want to wear something so…so…feminine…

"Do I have to wear that?" the vixen whined.

Agatha gave Barabell a stern look.

"Of course you do, Barabell," replied. "Now, come over here, and let's put this on you."

As the young fox slowly walked towards her foster mother, she continued to complain.

"But all the boys will laugh at me!"

"Nonsense. Those boys will be nice, or my name isn't Agatha Prickle."

Barabell reluctantly slipped the dress over her head, while Agatha tied the ribbon around her tail. When the outfit was on, Barabell looked at herself. She certainly looked like a civilized creature. It felt odd…Agatha, on the other hand, was pleased.

"Oh, my dear, Barabell," she cooed. "You look so pretty."

"…Thanks, Mum…"

Barabell crossed her arms and flattened her ears against her skull. This would be a long and awkward night…