A Feast at Salamandastron

[Maudie]

The kitchens were hot and bustling, filled with steam. Bertie marched back and forth through the doors, bearing trays full of food to the mess hall and trays of empty dishes back to the kitchens to be washed. It wasn't a very satisfying job.

Amidst all the steam, Cooky shouted orders at the top of his lungs. He'd been worn to the bone, trying to get all the preparation done for the feast. Just the tiniest of mistakes could set him off, and Bertie had been the target of his wrath all too often. He tried to step quietly past the cook.

No such luck. Cooky grabbed the young hare by the ear, shaking him. "Lively now, Bigbones! I won't let it be said that I run a bally lounge in here! This is a Long Patrol kitchen, look alive! Aye, that's the stuff! Top hole! And don't be getting any dandruff in my food."

Bertie scampered off, leaving the weary cook to turn his bloodshot eyes back to his cooking.

* * *

Ribarib threw the last bone from the bird's carcass into the bushes. "Aargh, these little birds aren't enough to feed our crew. We needs to find that badger. Ain't that right, chief?" he snarled.

OOC: Again, I'm not an experienced roleplayer. Let me know if I need to shape up.

[Rosie Willowwater]

OOC: It sounds great Masky

June scampered around the kitchen careful not to cross paths with Cooky for she knew she would break down in tears at any cross words. She had been told all her life that she was 'oversensitive' or 'childish'.

She gave Bertie a slight smile as she passed him and continued with her work. She misjudged the space on the countertop for her tray of scones, accidentally knocking over a spice rack dropping an array of spices onto the floor. "Oh! I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to. I was j-just. . ." She burst into tears trying her hardest to clean the mess up though her paws were shaking uncontrollably.   

[Ashleg]

Ribarib was greeted by a rough shove as his superior, a tall, fearsome-looking stoat savagely garbed in the bones of others, hustled by.
"Ta-cha, that what Tamahig say, idiot!"
His face was decked out in tribal tattoos--dark around the eyes with a red ring encircling his snout--and thus he looked all the more serious. A crown made of leaves sat between his ears, adorned with a bird skull front and center.
The stoat bared his teeth in annoyance, pointing a brown paw at the bushes. "We find t'badga'h, huh, look around, that's what we already doing!"

OOC-
If his accent ever gets too thick, tell me and I guess I can translate.

[Feles]

OOC: don't know what to do with my characters yet.

[LT Sandpaw]

"Hold there now lass, no use spoiling that pretty face o'er spilt spices m'gel." General Poppy Befjord had decided to preform a surprise inspection of the kitchens. Keeping a low profile so as to observe the laborers without being saluted every two seconds, he wandered this way and that, giving encouragement and reprimands as he saw fit. His seemingly random travels brought him close to June, and he witnessed her mistake, and watched her descend into tears.
The General knelt on one knee by the young haremaid, offering her his old blue kerchief to wipe her eyes, and using his swagger stick to tap the stone floor to alert another hare.
"Come now, some young buck fetch a broom and sweep this up. Don't make me say it twice now. Quicker th 'word sharper th' action." Poppy was, and had been for some time the sole commander of Salamandastron. He took his difficult duties in stride, protecting the western shores and Mossflower as only a military hare could, but soon his task would come to an end, soon they'd have a proper badger lord. He reminded young June of this, his deep voice lowered to a kind tone.
"Can't have th' waterworks pouring like that once our lord arrives lass." He had forgotten her name, such was the curse of having so many faces to remember in Salamandastron. He strove to recall it as he continued comforting her. "Nothing wrong, no harm done. Cheer up now, can't have ye sobbing on th' vittles can we Miss...?"

~*~*~*~*~

Throwing few roots and a pawful of dust into the dying cooking fire Zeifair released a pent up growl. The added dirt did nothing but diminish the fire even more, while the roots sent up tiny puffs of greasy smoke. She'd once seen a vixen scatter powder at fire, and the flames burned green and blue. She hadn't yet discovered the necessary ingredients for such an action, but she worked with the result she got nonetheless.

The stoat seer peered at the smoke swirls adding her opinion to Tamahig's. "I d'ink we get 'Im tonight chief. We'a gotter find 'Im first an shoot 'Im again wit' anodder arrow. Tha's wot th' signs say. Then we eat good, better n' e'er afore. Th' fire swears it." Stupid! Zeifair accused silently, wincing at the shoddy performance she had just put on. 'The fire swears it', what kind of nonsense was that? She was better then this.

[Rosie Willowwater]

"Oh! I 'pologize I didn't know you were 'ere!" June straightened her back, wiped away her tears, and hastily tried to do away with the stray pieces of glass and spice; unintentionally ignoring Poppy's handkerchief. "Oh no, 'ts fine. I c'n clean it myself." She said, taking the broom as it was handed to her and hastily sweeping the pieces away. Her heart was still beating rapidly from the sudden scare. I should be used to this kind of humiliation by now, She though, angrily, it happens often enough. "M-miss June, Sir" she remarked giving a clumsy and shaky bow, almost dropping the broom she was holding.     

[Maudie]

Cooky spotted the scene of the accident, scowling as the General swooped in to save the day. What did the meddling beast think he was doing in Cooky's domain? Well, there was nothing to be done. The General practically ruled Salamandastron.

"Somebeast clean that mess up!" Cooky yelled. "I won't 'ave this in my kitchens! C'mon now! Quick's the word and sharp's the action!"

.  .  .

"More like sharp's the word if quick's not the action," Bertie muttered under his breath. He grabbed a broom and went to help June clean up the spice mess.

"'Ere, let me do it. T'wont take long." He saluted the General. "Sah," He stammered out, before setting to the mess.

*  *  *

Ribarib guffawed. "T'chah! Da fire swears it? Wot kind o' nonsense be dat silly ole mutterer chantin' now? I fink she not right in da 'ead."

[Rosie Willowwater]

"Thank ye 'mmensley"  She said giving Bertie a short, tight, hug. Then, picking up the tray of scones that started the entire predicament, she continued with her work. Still feeling Cooky's sharp stare on her back.

[Ashleg]

Tamahig turned his nose at his seer's pathetic flop.
"Chah, de fire don't swear, ya schyoopid, you supposed t'swear. We go now, hurry up, before 'e really gits away."
The tall stoat turned away from her and strode past Ribarib, nudging him lightly in the side.
"Cuckoo, eh, she be losin' her touch..."

[Feles]

Slip watched the exchange through bored, slit, eyes. "th' fire swears it." he scoffed to himself, "what's next; th' bones deny it." He looked around at the assembled stoats, trying to see if they had any remaining food. One, whose name Slip couldn't quite remember, had a leg of some sort of bird nest to him on the rock he was sitting on. Hardly appetizing, but Slip hadn't eaten since the last morning. He weaved his way through the tribe to nab the leg for himself.

OOC: Feel free to have someone catch him if you want.

[Groddil]

Zinatta emerged from the undergrowth close to the nest, having successfully tracked their quarry all night. With only one thing on his mind, the stoat snatched the bird leg, and began tearing at it as he walked towards Tamahig.



The quarry in question lay slumped against a tree, not quite a kilometre from the camp. Stonestripe the badger breathed heavily, staring at the arrow wound in his thigh. Yesterday, the blood stain had been nearly as big as his paw. Now he failed to cover it with both.
"I don't want... to die."
Stonestripe grunted with pain as he hauled himself to his feet.
"Have... to keep... going."
The badger stumbled a few metres before crashing to ground. He groaned, clutching the wound.
"Have...  to..."
"Quiet. You're not going to die. Just stay with me."
Stonestripe felt his vision dim. He felt... lightheaded. The last he saw before passing out were a pair of tall ears. Safety.

[LT Sandpaw]

"It'd be unwise ter mock d'a spirits, or d'er seer." Zeifair growled, scattering the fire's embers with her footpaw. She cast a disapproving glare towards the other stoats before hunching over, plotting her next sign. It'd have to be a good one this time, to make the dimmer tribebeast forget this mistake, and the smarter ones, less suspicious.

~*~*~*~*~

Seeing his assistance was no longer needed Poppy awkwardly shoved the unused kerchief back into his pocket, nodding to the hares that gave him salutes. "Very well then, carry on everybeast. Listen to Cooky and follow orders." Leaving the hares with this order Poppy did an about face, exiting the kitchens in due haste. He subconsciously made a mental note of Bertie's quick action, deeming the young hare worth remembering.

[Feles]

Slip looked on in anguish as Zinatta ate the leg of the bird, it seemed he would starve another day. He huffed in frustration and returned to looking for a discarded piece of meat.

[Maudie]

Cooky watched the General leave with satisfaction. Good. Cooky worked best when he wasn't outranked.

He was startled when a quick paw snatched the hat off of his head. He turned to see the mischievous Angelina Tusoc dancing away, hat perched jauntily on her head, her ears drooping underneath it. She saluted him.

"Good day t'ye, sah. Just poppin' in before I go out to get a lunch." She stuffed a crispy, fresh-out-of-the-oven loaf of bread into her haversack, followed by a chunk of cheese, a berry tart, and a flagon of pear cider.

Kitchen workers tried to stop her, but the pretty haremaid was too quick for their desperate grabs.

Finally, she snatched one of the scones from June's tray, plopping Cooky's hat on the kitchen assistant's head. "See you at supper time, Cooky!" she called, her mouth full of scone.

*  *  *

Ribarib smirked as Zeifair made her idle threats. The seer didn't know when to stop making herself look ridiculous.

"An' what're da sp'rits ginna do ter us?" Ribarib whispered loudly to the tribe member sitting next to him. "Make da fire go out? She don' scare me, da silly ole fool."

[Rosie Willowwater]

"Hey! You come back 'ere right now!" June said, tossing Cooky's hat on the counter and pushing her rolling pin into another assistant's hands in a sudden burst of fury. She stormed towards Angelina creating puffs of flour with each limp. "Ohh, when I catch you I'm taking you right to General Poppy!"