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

[Groddil]

Mortembell raised an eyebrow.
"He's in isolation at the moment. What do you need to talk to him for?"

[Ashleg]

"Er, well..." Fang turned to see that Drubble was gone.
He didn't want to blame the mole so he made something up that sounded convincing; "I jus' want t' see how 'e's doin'."

[Groddil]

Mortembell sighed.
"Can't you just talk to him through the door...Nevermind. You can talk to him when I take him dinner later."

[Ashleg]

Fang scratched behind an ear, watching Mortembell quizzically.
"So why's 'e been in, erm, isolation? I mean, I know 'e usually is, but th' way you worded it sounded like 'e did somethin' today...that was bad..."

[Groddil]

The vixen stared at Fangfang quizically.
"You didn't know? He tried to make a run for it. If it weren't for One-Ear an' that hamster showing up when they did, who knows where he'd be?"

[Ashleg]

"Somewhere else...?" Fang asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Poor Cap'n. I mean Rapshade."

[Groddil]

Mortembell stifled a giggle at Fangfang. She knew she shouldn't, after all, Rapshade had donne that to him.
"Anywhere. He'd be free to terrorize some other hapless beasts. Without an abbey to protect themselves. Now, what I want to know is who that weasel is..."

[Ashleg]

Fangfang scoffed, giving Mortembell an unimpressed look.
"Pff, Mortembell. Yer so silly. 'E's a weasel, of course!" He tugged at his cloak and started towards the weasel.
"I'm gonna go ask 'is name. C'mon."

[Groddil]

Mortembell raised an eyebrow sarcastically. She quickened her pace and stopped at the door before Grant and Roscoe got there.
"Hey, Abbot. Who's the weasel?"

[Ashleg]

Grant looked surprised to see Mortembell, but he shrugged it off.
The mouse narrowed his eyes. "This is Roscoe. He knew the Abbot before me...although I wouldn't call him an honest, loyal friend, I will help him wait out your son's gang so he can keep those brilliant purple eyes of his." Shaking his head, he led the weasel inside.
Roscoe stuck his tongue out at Mortembell.

[Hickory]

OOC: Inside the Abbey?

[Ashleg]

OOC-
Yup.

[LT Sandpaw]

Walking around the Abbey building towards the main door Bracklew spotted the small group of creatures milling about. Smirking at Max's playing he shook his shoulders jostling his passenger.

"I haven't heard of any birds with bushy tails and muzzles Maxy. Though that's not saying there aren't any. Maybe there is a Maxbird out there somewhere." He bypassed a patch of ice approaching Grant and the weasel. "Father Abbot, who's this?" He asked his voice growing slightly colder as he addressed the older beasts.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hm I had already added sunflower seeds before that." Petu confirmed raising an eyebrow. "They were just hidden under the celery leaves, crystalized apple, horse radish, burned bread, and honey sauce. I suppose we can never have to many sunflower seeds though" Petu attempted to garnish the salad but only succeed in dropping some of the ingredients out onto the floor.

"This bowl is overflowing! Friar quick we need a larger bowl."

[Hickory]

Deftly, the Friar grabbed a larger wooden bowl and covered the smaller one with it. Flipping the two bowls, he removed the smaller one from the top. "There. You'll have to mix it up a bit again, what with the proliferation of seeds that Duncan added."

Ava ambled over to where Grant and Roscoe were. "What do we have here?" She asked, locking eyes with the weasel.

<O>

Applelad and Harnam stopped at he woodland fringe, watching as Roscoe disappeared into the Abbey. Harnam turned around. "Let's go, that 'uns out of our paws."

[Groddil]

Mortembell rolled her eyes at Bracklew.
"He knew the last Abbot aparanetly. So Grant's shelterin' 'im here from Muddle."

*****

A Vigil scout running ahead of the main party stopped to catch his breath. The mouse sat on a fallen log near the east wall of Redwall Abbey. As the scout dusted himself off, he heard voices and ducked behind the log. Nearby bushes rustled as a ferret and a stoat stumbled out. The stoat burped and threw a flagon of grog into the woods.
"Well, mucker, this is the good life, huh?"
"Sure was. Remember that farm from last summer?"
The stoat giggled.
"Oh, yes. Bunch o' weak liddle woodlanders who couldna even fight back."
"We sure dealt with them, huh?"
As the two vermin continued to joke about their murderous exploits, the mouse shivered. He took a sling from his pocket and fitted a stone. He swung it swiftly, launching the small rock. The ferret grunted and lost his footing. The stoat stared at his fallen comrade dumbly, before drawing his rusty blade.
"Eh, reveal yourself! I'll gut yer like a fish!"
The mouse was terrified. He threw sling at the stoat and ran.