Descriptions

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

Post random descriptions of Redwall-related things here.

[One-Eye the wildcat]

Ummm... yeetus deletus? (i could not think of anything to say...)

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

Okay. Describe... a sword.

[One-Eye the wildcat]

A weapon I use.

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

A DESCRIPTION OF WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE, OLE' CHAP!!!

[One-Eye the wildcat]

Chill out. Pointy.

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

*sighs longsufferingly*

[Sebias of Redwall]

So...Is this descriptions for any Redwallian items or do they have to be from the books?

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

Any Redwalllian items, ole' thing.

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

Wait... I called Seb an 'Ole' Thing?' Wow, old me was cool!

[Verdauga]

I kinda miss your hare-ish accent.

[Kade Rivok]

I dunno, Edgelord Jarky is pretty fun.

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

Remind me not to destroy you too fast.

[Cornflower MM]

Mod: Hey, y'all, remember this is the fanfiction board and not the Cellars. This is a cool prompt idea, and great for getting creative juices flowing, but try to keep the conversation to the writing exercise.

[shisteer of nothing much]

Good idea. I will have a go at this challenge and edit it later, after I stop being exhausted myself.

Exhaustion after the Bloodwrath

  It starts as a sudden heaviness, weighing suddenly on you like an enemy body or a large pillow. Not a hard feeling, but just a comfortable burden that seems to calm you.
  The red slowly fades from your eyes and you look around and see the carnage that you've caused. So many dead beasts. You feel guilty for taking so many lives, for destroying so many families and leaving sons and daughters parentless, but you also feel a grim satisfaction that makes you want to keep going.
  You hesitate at the mixed emotions, not entirely sure which is the right one.
  These beasts were bad. They killed your friends and family. They planned to kill more. It was necessary to end them.
  Or was it? What would have happened if you'd given them a chance? If you'd put aside the fact that they were vermin and tried to help them instead?
  You shake your head, dismissing the ridiculous notion. Vermin were bad. They deserved death and you had been merciful by paying it out quickly.
  Having come to a decision, you feel relieved and turn to consult your second in command, suddenly feeling emotionally drained, as if your head just grew in size.
  You ask what the casualties are and how much damage the enemy took, finding out that you sent six beasts to dark forest for every one of your allies that died. You lost twelve of your friends, one of which left a brother behind who is now in mourning, refusing to accept the fate of his sibling.
  You go to comfort him and suddenly want to break down and cry too, shedding the grief with long, hot tears, but you have duties to complete. You are a leader and must sort out what to do with the wounded and when to head back home.
  You give the beast another gentle pat on the shoulder and rise to your footpaws again, looking around wearily at all the work there is to do.
  Reluctantly, you begin, gathering the dead vermin and dumping them in a pile, then carefully scooping up each fallen comrade, offering a quiet word to the other sad warriors that you pass.
  You do all this mechanically, lost in your own thoughts and feelings, yawning occasionally as you dig a dozen graves on the shoreline, piling the sand beside each one.
  Now the ceremonies start. You speak of how these beasts were brave and courageous, how they fell with honour and were truly perilous beasts, but the words, though holding meaning for the living followers, seem empty to you. You didn't see them die, too lost in your own, maniacal killing rage to pay any attention to them.
  You didn't give them a second thought during the entire battle. How can you promise to remember them when you have so much else to do? You've lost so many friends that you can't recall all of them. You feel as though you're betraying your loyal, cheerful friends.
  The thoughts are all in your head and you finish the speech, then begin to bury them, laying each one in his grave and sadly transferring the samd back into the hole. The last beast is the fallen sibling and his brother refuses to let go, the tears streaming down his cheeks and landing on the prone body in wet splashes.
  You try to hold yourself together, telling yourself to stay strong, to not let your followers see weakness in you, but you can't do it. Wordlessly, you crouch down and put a paw around the young beast, finally letting your tears free, distinctly aware that the entire regiment is watching you cry.
  You eventually manage to get control of yourself again and stand up, turning away to hide your face from them, not willing to look up and see their shocked, judgemental expressions.
  You walk down the beach until you are a ways away, then you simply sit and brood.
  You do not know how long you've been there, but the sky is darkening and the waves are beginning to lap at your footpaws when you feel a gentle paw on your shoulder and look around to see the young beast you'd cried with looking down at you, a grateful smile on his face.
  Suddenly the opinions of the other beasts don't matter. You made this young one who most needed comfort happy and that is enough for you.
  He tells you that the other beasts had mostly gone back to the mountain, but him and a few others had stayed to wait for you. He also tells you that dinner is ready and the others had been threatening to eat your portion, so you get up, surprised by your hunger, and follow him, back to the fire.
  It is late but your food is still warm and you eat with relish, then follow the beasts back home, climbing up the stairs inside the mountain as if in a trance and collapsing onto your bed, only half aware that somebeast led you there are is now bustling about, trying to push you fully onto the hard mattress. You summon the last of your strength and heave yourself fully onto your bed, immediately falling asleep as the beast drapes a blanket over you.
  Your slumber is dreamless and deep and you are unaware of the smaller beast slipping in beside you, holding your paw for comfort and crying himself to sleep.

[close]

(And now I want to do the same)