Redwall Isn't Safe Anymore! (Is Redwall as Safe as they Say it is? Part Two)

[Groddil]

Charm strutted back into the Vigil camp, which was largely vacated. She peered down into the pit at Damien rolling around pitifully. The otter winced.
"I don't care if he goes crazy because o' this or not, we can't let 'im sit down there bleeding. Asher, help me get 'im outta there, he needs a healer."

[Hickory]

Asher reached down and grasped Damien's paw, roughly hauling the blind squirrel up onto the path. Turning his eyes away from the gruesome sight, the squirrel spoke his part. "Well, the least we can do is bind 'im up. I don't have the experience for this, you probably don't either. Maybe we should take 'im to Redwall, aye?

[Groddil]

Damien whimpered in pain.
"No, not Redwall. Leave me alone, no!"
The squirrel gingerly touched his bleeding face and winced.
"Just leave me in the pit..."

[Hickory]

The black squirrel crouched down so he was level with Damien. "Yore choice. Leaving an injury like that wide open is cause for an infection, not healing it could hurt you further. I've heard of creatures who got themselves healed at the Abbey an' lived t'fight another day. An' I've also heard of creatures who are blind, but are still able to live long an' well. Take yore pick."

[Groddil]

Damien crawled towards the pit.
"No, don't like Redwall. Pain, hurts. They'll make it worse...Don't want that! Help...me..."

[Hickory]

Asher grabbed the back of Damien's tunic, and with a swift rap on the head from the hilt of his dirk, knocked the squirrel unconscious. "Let's go," he said. "Damien isn't a lightweight."

OOC: Hope the PP is okay.

[Ashleg]

OOC-
*cough cough*
I posted with Roscoe...
IC-
Maxy waved his paws similar to how a bird would flap its wings, enjoying riding on Bracklew's shoulder. The young squirrel beamed.
"Lookit me, I'mma birdie! Dis is fun, I like playin' wif yew, Bracklee!"

--

"Wot wot indeed, young chap." Duncan smiled as he dusted his paws off on his tunic, then stepped back to admire the 'salad' he'd made with Petu.
"It looks so good, I think everybeast in the bloomin' Abbey should try it!"

--

Fangfang stood there for a while, agreeing but not too content with the plan. At last he thought of something; "Er, Drubble? I could ask Mortembell 'erself if'n I could see Rappy...'tis different from lettin' 'im out. I think."

[Hickory]

Rusk glanced over Duncan's shoulder. "I think everyone in the Abbey should burn it. That's no salad, let me show you how a professional does it."

Gathering his ingredients, the Friar quickly added his own recipe. "See, you want to add these shelled sunflower seeds for some extra crunch and flavor. They're not meant to be noticeable."

Tossing in a pawful of the seeds, he grabbed another bowl. "These are cooked potatoes doused in vegetable oil and seasoned with an herb mixture. They compliment the greens very well. Make sure not to put too much in, or it'll overpower the lettuce and spinach.

"And this, I made this dressing recipe a while back. Some vinegar, garlic, mixed in with some oil to loosen it up. Simple but flavorful. See, doesn't that make it so much better?"

~O~

Harnam had caught up with Applelad, and both were still pursuing Roscoe, but hidden in the trees. Taking a lance in hand, Applelad made a mighty throw, putting the weapon a few feet in front of the weasel.

[Ashleg]

Duncan wrinkled his nose.
"You just...murdered our salad...." The hare looked like he was at a loss for words. Glancing at Petu and at Rusk and then back again, eyes wide, he suddenly burst out laughing and dealt the Friar a hearty slap to the back.
"Good thoughts about the crunchin', mate! A beast can never have too much of that!" He reached for the bag of sunflower seeds and turned it upside-down over the bowl, drowning the salad in seeds.
"Much better! Last but not least, it needs a different kind of sauce. Got any of that, eh eh?"

--

Roscoe let out a shriek and flew up in the air, landing on all fours a few paw-lengths away from the lance that had embedded itself in the ground before him. The weasel jumped back to his paws and charged forward. Redwall was nearing. All he had to do was get over there before Applelad and Harnam.
A long strip of ice ran down the hill, and the trees were thinning. Roscoe grinned naughtily.
"Oho...Looks like I'm in luck!" He rubbed his paws together evilly before making a huge leap over the snow and onto the ice. The weasel dug his claws in to steady himself and then saluted in the direction of his persuers.
"Bon voyage, addlebrains!" Purple eyes glinting, he kicked off and let himself slide quickly down the ice patch, gaining some distance between him and the Woodlanders.
"Good luck, an' I'll see ya when yer dead!"

[Groddil]

Emerging from a nearby bush, Narzle shrieked at the sight of Roscoe spinning towards him. The young hedgehog cowered fearfully as Amaline rushed out. Pushing her son back into the brush, she swung the massive spiked club, leaving it stuck in the ice directly in Roscoe's path. The mother hedgehog grinned with satisfaction and sat down to watch the fireworks.

*****

Drubble shrugged.
"Ee can troi zurr. It wudd be better if we 'ad permission, but oi doubts she'll agree with us."

[Ashleg]

Roscoe turned to look over his shoulder and sneered, vaulting the club.
"What was that supposed t' be, eh? My my. Idiots these days!" The weasel shook his head. If anything, that had slowed him down a second or two because he'd had to jump.
It really had no effect.
Once the ice thinned and then was gone altogether Roscoe bounded the remaining length to the Abbey and then threw himself upon the gates, wailing uproariously, "Lemme in, lemme in!"

There was a click and the gates flew open to allow him to stumble in. Abbot Grant caught the panting weasel by the arm and glanced at him quizzically.
"I know you. You're that weasel that Abbot Litho took a liking to..."
Roscoe caught his breath and did a little dance of despair. "Yes, yes! Close th' gates an' I'll explain!"

--

Fang shrugged. "I mean, it's worth a try, eh? Let's go find 'er." He started up the stairs and then halted to see if Drubble was following.

[Groddil]

Amaline shrugged. She retrieved her club and led Narzle back into the woods.
"Was worth a try."

*****

Drubble followed Fangfang up to Great Hall and spotted Mortembell by the door.
"Thurr she be, zurr."
The mole took a step in the vixens direction just before she disappeared outside. Poking his snout around the door, the mole called Fangfang to take a look.
"Look over thurr, it be's a weasel wid Abbot Grant at th'gates. Oi wonder what 'ee's doin' 'ere..."

[Ashleg]

Roscoe relaxed as soon as the gates were shut and locked.
"Th' h'Abbey sure looks pretty with th' snow..."
"Yes, it does, doesn't it? Anyway, why are you here?" Grant guided him over to the wall, not noticing Mortembell, Drubble, and Fangfang.
Roscoe shuddered. "Th' Vigil, sir, they want t' use me as bait or somethin' t' catch a scary murderous spikedog..."
Grant's eyes widened. Muddle? "...That's horrible."

Back by the door, Fangfang stood next to Drubble, looking quite confused.
"Weird," Fang whispered, screwing up his nose.
"Seems like they've been acquainted b'fore 'er somethin'. Anyway..." The young rat bounded after the vixen, leaving Drubble at the entrance.
"Mortembell!"

[Groddil]

Drubble rolled his eyes as Fangfang sped off without him. Rapshade was Fangfang's captain, he could talk to Mortembell. The cellarmole decided to go and help out in the kitchens.

*****

Mortembell turned around at the sight of Fangfang bounding through the snow towards her.
"Oh, Fangfang. What is it, why the urgency?"

[Ashleg]

"Uh..." Fang bit his lip.
"I was wonderin' if'n I could talk ter Rapshade."