They Thought Redwall was Safe! (Is Redwall as Safe as they Say it is? Part 3!)

Started by Ashleg, February 24, 2017, 11:33:13 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 2 Guests are viewing this topic.

LT Sandpaw

   Recoiling in hurt and anger Petu jabbed at Maxy's chest, his tall ears pressed flat against his head. "That's not true!" The rabbit spluttered, "I do care about you. I always have and I always will, but also I care about my best friend whom you nearly slew last night! And I'm not going to leave you alone, or anybeast alone until someone gives me a reason why! I don't want to hear your stupid excuses about accidents, tell me the truth now or-" Petu jerked away staring down at the floor stones as if he'd melt them with the fury of his gaze, cutting himself off before he finished his threat. His emotions conflicted in a thousand ways as he simultaneously longed to claw out Maxy's eyes, while comforting him that Bracklew would live. The truth was, nobeast knew if Brack would even survive the night. He'd been so cold, so still, and his breathing so shallow. Petu made a poorly suppressed a sound that sounded oddly like the combination of a growl and sob.

   Collapsing into a chair beside Maxy he held his forehead in his paws, his lower lip quivering. "I'm sorry." He said at last, not looking Maxy in the eye. "I'm just so angry, and confused. I shouldn't be treating you like this, Brack wouldn't like it..."

~*~*~*~

   "Use the straps." Ranye ordered going around to each corner of the bed to ensure Bracklew wouldn't be able thrash about. The bindings were secured around Bracklew's wrists and ankles and a mouth guard inserted between his teeth. Choosing a small, but sharp bladed knife from her tools Rayne cut away the makeshift bandages, pulling out the blood-soaked kerchief, letting it fall with a faint wet sound to the floor. Fastooth made as to put pressure on the wound but Rayne pushed him away, inserting her claws into the incision, feeling around. She mentally went over the different organs and their corresponding locations inside a young squirrel, similar to a vole, she recalled. She even wrote a chapter in her own book on the intricacies of such treatments with the respective species, and how to know if a vital organ had been damaged or not.

   Rayne claws probed and searched not liking what she was finding. Gut wounds were always nasty, slow, painful deaths caused by the rot and internal damage more than anything else. But Maxy's sword had struck high, sinking deep at an upward angle, towards the stomach and lungs instead of the intestines. Rayne removed her paws, the wrinkled fur coming away surprisingly clean considering what she'd just done.

   "Irons," she instructed curtly, holding out her paw. Waiting until Rapshade had given them to her Rayne adjusted the instrument, holding to delicately by the wooden handle with one paw, while pressing his side with the other. She gave out hurried orders, having Fastooth press on Bracklew's other side while telling Rapshade to hold squirrel's head. Raising the cauterizing irons high she lowered in gently, but deliberately on the open wound. There was a moment of silence, then Bracklew's eyes popped open and he arched his back, straining against his bindings. A muffled scream rising from beneath his gag. Rayne ignored these signs of agony, focusing on her task. The smell of charred fur and singed flesh fresh in her nose. Within seconds it was over, Rayne pulled the irons away and Bracklew slumped in his bed his eyes rolling deliriously. Smearing a strong scented paste over the squirrel's new burn Rayne sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.

   "Not much more we can do now, there were some internal lacerations but not to be done about it. He'll have to heal on his own." She glanced to her left, to where the young shrew was. He was watching them with a look of absolute horror on his face. She grimaced in his direction, before addressing her new assistant. "Rappy, fetch that bag right there. I need my sewing kit to clamp a cut artery."


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Ashleg

Maxy stared back at Petu unblinkingly, his face contorted with anger. "No," he said, rising from his chair, "You shouldn't."
His fur bristled, and he clenched his fists, glancing towards the door with the urge to walk away. "Why, if the Abbot wasn't going to come here I... I wouldn't stomach talking to you, with you coming in and accusing me and jabbing me." He stomped over to a chair that was not beside Petu and sat down, glaring at him, a table between them.
He sniffed. "You're horrible."

--

Rapshade silently passed Rayne the bag.
He felt sick, hearing her talk about it, and seeing and smelling and hearing everything that was going on in here. Yet he didn't show it. He trained his eyes on her, standing slouched and small as he normally did, with his bad leg at an awkward angle.

--

Minutes ticked by in tense silence, Maxy's glare only getting harsher and harsher the longer he sat there.
Luckily for him, Grant arrived by the door.
"Petu? What are you doing here?" The Abbot noticed the vermin-like sneer on Maxy's face with equal shock. "I am going to talk to young Max now, if you wouldn't mind."
I wonder what happened between them. I should have got here sooner.

LT Sandpaw

   His anger flaring like a dying flame doused in oil Petu began to rise from his chair, his teeth clenched. How dare Maxy insinuate he was the victim here? By his own account he struck his brother down, if by accident or not, Maxy was the guilty party. Sure Petu had started out to heavypawed, but he apologized for that hadn't he? And for Max to sit there enraptured in self-pity, and consider Petu's own grief to be accusatory in nature, the nerve of it was astonishing. It took a considerable amount of self-control on Petu's part to keep from standing all the way and telling this to Maxy in full, but the rabbit managed to keep his temper in check, resorting to merely glaring at the table in front of him, tapping his claws on the worn surface.

   It was awhile later before Grant arrived, drawing Petu's sour gaze. The young rabbit stood in a rush, nearly sending his chair falling over backwards as he stormed from the Hall. "Oh aye, well perhaps you'll fare better than me Abbot. But right now Maxy's too busy wallowing in his own guilt that he can't explain to me properly what happened to my best friend. And whether someone needs to be evicted of from the Abbey or not. You remember my earlier concerns Grant?" Giving the mouse a curt nod Petu strode from the room, slamming the large door behind him leaving Grant and Maxy alone to talk.


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Ashleg

Grant stared at the door in shock.
Then he turned back to Maxy, and his eyebrows lowered.
"Tell me what happened during the attack. Why in all the seasons would you stab your own brother? Was somebeast else involved? Do not be afraid."

Maxy glared at him, though he didn't really want to. It was his leftover anger towards Petu coming out on the Abbot. "He was trying to murder Fastooth," he snapped, rubbing away a tear. "I charged him, I tried to knock him back-- but he moved towards me instead of away and my sword went in. That's it! There's no conspiracy like you all are whispering about, no nothing."

The Abbot chewed his claw. Why would Bracklew want to murder Fastooth?
Maxy sounded too confident for it to all be a lie. "Are you telling me the whole story? The true story?"

The squirrel's blue eyes met with the Abbot's brown ones. "There's nothing else to it. That's what happened, and now everybeast thinks I'm mental, just like Rappy. I'm going to explode."

"My son, you are nothing like Rappy."

"Well, is that so? I certainly don't belong here with this ugly lot. They're so eager to kill the rats, but when I try to save my friend and have an accident I'm an evil, horrible creature that needs to go. I've had it, Father Abbot. Stumbly would understand."

LT Sandpaw


   Shutting his eyes Fastooth leaned over the balcony rail, trying to evict the memories of what he'd just witnessed from his mind and calm his churning stomach. Somehow, the process of saving lives was more grotesque than that of taking them. An odd realization for the seasoned killer. He'd deserted the Abbey infirmary after Rayne moved from digging about in the squirrel's guts and melting him closed to sewing a literal vein shut. The smell had been too much to bear, and seeing as he was only getting in the way in the busy sick bay Fastooth made his departure, slipping out without anybeast noticing and finding himself on a second floor balcony, staring over the peaceful morning grounds. He scraped idly at the blood caked around his paws, wincing on occasion when furs were pulled away. He needed to wash. Glancing around Fastooth's eyes sighted in on the Abbey pond, deserted for the time being. Turning the rat descended from the balcony and onto the stairs, padding silently across the sandstone halls.

   He reached intersection leading to the main doors and the Great Hall and was about to continue on his way when the doors burst open. Fastooth froze, his dark fur melding into the shadows. Petu stalked from the chamber in high dudgeon, his ears tall and pink, fused with blood. He closed the doors behind him and strode away, not even noticing the rat standing only a few paces behind. It was easy to tell Petu was frustrated over something, and Fastooth remembered his earlier, whispered conversation with the leader mouse, over him not being trustworthy. The rabbit didn't like him, and the feeling was mutual. Growling, Fastooth crept closer to the Great Hall doors, a familiar voice rising from within, muffled but clear. Quieting he pressed his large ear against the woodwork, eavesdropping on the conversation between Maxy and Grant.


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Ashleg

The Abbot rose and went to open the door.
When he did, he let out a yelp of shock and hopped backwards so Fastooth wouldn't fall on him.
"What do you think you're doing, hmm?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Maxy got up and ran over. "Fastooth? Great. Now you can back me up."

LT Sandpaw

 "Gah, what-are-ye doin'?" Fastooth windmilled his arms, regaining his balance by snatching hold of the jamb. Gathering himself the rat dusted off his jerkin, eyeing both Grant and Maxy warily. He'd only been privy to the latter half of the conversation, and would have to choose his words carefully. "Was I? Aye, that's right I'm here to back me matey up. He didn' do nuthin' wrong I tells ye, not malicious like I tell ye. When battle kicks off an' creatures are at each other's throats left n' right an' its dark, it gets more confusin' then a wedding betwixt a crow n' trout in a tunnel." Fastooth groaned inwardly, that didn't make any sense whatsoever, he supposed that might actually carry his point across in that regard at least. "Our squirrel mate up in the infirmary got all red eye'd, an' he saw me an' th' battle madness came o'er him, like nothin' I'd ever seen. He must thought I was th' enemy an' he near killed me. Maxy tried to help, but, well he's not th' most skilled with a blade, no offense meant likkle matey." Fastooth shrugged, accentuated with a twist of his shoulders. "Accidents happen on th' battlefield, I've seen it a hundred times before."

          Reaching over the big rat ruffled Maxy's ears. "Ain't no reason to be ashamed, we'll jus' work on yer blade handlin'. That mouse healer, she's done assured me that she's th' best medic this side o' th' Moss. If anybeast could patch that warrior up it'd be her."


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Ashleg

Maxy went red with anger when Fastooth insulted his swordmanship. I've proven myself multiple times to you!
But... the Abbot seemed to be buying it. The part about the squirrel trying to save Fastooth from Bracklew, at least.
"Yes..." said the old mouse. "That's the same story Maxy gave me."
Maxy looked relieved. "So you don't think I'm malicious, then?"
Grant adjusted his glasses. "No... I never did, Maxy. The other Redwallers are another story, but I could never believe something like that about one of our own creatures without hearing their side of the story first, unless I saw something happen with my own eyes."
Maxy glanced at Fastooth, then back at the Abbot.
"I am going to tell your father and Petu," said the mouse, walking from the room.

OOC-
After he talks to them, we shall timeskip.

LT Sandpaw

   Watching the Abbot proceed from the Hall, Fastooth turned, an eyebrow raised in consternation. Something about the what his abbotness had said that left him with a foul taste in his mouth, and a fiery anger mouldering in his heart. "What'd th' mouse mean by that?" He snarled, "An what'd ye mean by others seein' ye as malicious? Be somebeast accusing ye out O' turn?"

   Maxy need not bother replying, Fastooth knew the answer before the question left his lips. "Th' rabbit isn't it? His name is Petu, I remember. I walked with him to meet th' shrews, an' saw him leave this very room..." Fastooth let the thought hang. Petu had never struck him as the accusing type, perhaps naive as woodlander rabbits generally are, but genuine in his intentions. Their brief interaction would easily have been insufficient to determine his proper character, and as Fastooth knew well, pain made a beast's true self plain.

   Cracking his knuckles he prescribed a number of solutions, none of which aligned with the Abbey teachings of mercy and forgiveness Maxy learned. "If somebeast is spoiling yer good name, ye gotta take action, show em they can't be doing that. I learned it from me brother, when we used to get inter trouble, an' he'd always blame me. I taught him not too, after a few times at least. This be no different, I'll show ye how its done if ye like, this once, but its best coming from th' injured party most O' th' time." Fastooth laid a heavy claw on Maxy's shoulder, imparting his words of wisdom. "Yer a warrior now, an ye gotta act like one. Warriors demand respect, an' if someone be bad mouthing ye that means they don't respect ye. An' that means as a warrior, ye have to take that respect and instill it, permanently. It'll be th' hardest thing ye ever do, but trust me in th' saying, it'll be for th' greater good. When th' time comes, and hard decisions have to be made ye'll be grateful when those under ye jump an' respect yer orders, an' without question obey."

      The irony in his little speech, was lost on Fastooth. For him ends justified the means in all situations, even in regards to somebeast he felt so loyal too.


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Ashleg

Maxy's eyes widened.
"What are you implying?" he hissed. "You want me to beat Petu?"
Turning, he pressed his claws into his forehead. Maybe Fastooth had a point. It was what Duncan did to Rapshade when the ferret did something he didn't like, and the prisoner sure did jump to respect the hare's orders. Duncan was a warrior, to Fastooth's credit...
The white squirrel shook his head. "No way," he laughed. "That's crazy. It would be best to talk it out, or just ignore him altogether."

LT Sandpaw

   Unamused by Maxy's response the big rat shrugged. "Aye, ye could ignore him, or talk it out..." He said the words as if they had a foul taste, showing his incisors through a sneer. "Though when a beast's mind is set, there inn't no better way O' changin' their ways then through some swift uppercuts, an' a kick to their cotton tailed rump."

~*~*~*~

   Feeling exhausted Petu splashed wearily into the pond, scrubbing sand into fur and rinsing it out with the cool water. Comfortably cleaned of battle stain, and refreshed he stepped out of the shallows, shaking himself dry. He heard Grant approaching long before he saw him, and he turned to face the Abbot, a single eyebrow raised in trepidation. "Abbot?" He said, suddenly feeling cold. Something didn't feel right just at that moment. He grabbed his tunic, pulling its comfortable warmth over his damp fur. "Did ye get anything from Maxy? Any answers?"


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Ashleg

"Yes," said the Abbot tiredly, handing Petu a towel to dry off with. "Due to some confusion in battle, Bracklew attacked Fastooth, and Maxy rushed in to knock Bracklew away. He never meant to stab him."
The old mouse wanted to ask Petu what exactly had gone on between him and the squirrel, but he sighed instead.
"In other words, it was a mistake."

--

Maxy shook his head. "I don't think so. That's not the Redwall way." He giggled again, then stifled his laughter behind a white paw and straightened his back. His eyes flicked to Fastooth. "Sorry. It's just funny, imagining me doing anything like that. No matter how much he might deserve a good slap."