|
Post by Terragon Scrufftail on May 11, 2007 16:46:53 GMT
*Terragon grins.* I don't suppose you realise how ridiculously noble that sounds? *She glances towards Salamandastron, and then down at the dead bodies which lie between the squirrel and the mountain.* And I don't suppose you know how hard this is for me? I ran off at the start of the battle. I thought - I thought I saw my cousin - second adopted *She adds.* - Ashnel go down. There's not many squirrels with dark fur, and... well, I don't suppose you've seen anybeast in the healers' wards? *If not, then, well, he went down fighting. If he were here, he'd mention how going down fighting is over-rated.*
OOC: It seems like I haven't RPed for ages, even though I did only last night... ick.
|
|
|
Post by Tinsy Stormsight on May 11, 2007 23:11:59 GMT
*Regen interrupts the conversation, uninvited.* *Ashn'l's in th' infirmary, waitin' for ye. He sent me t' look for ye. Never hurts t' stretch th' truth a little. *He's better off 'n I am, although not doin' too well.
*The squirrel glances at the dead bodies, wondering if anybeast he knows is in the muddle. The whole mess is starting to smell a bit, and he wrinkles his nose slightly.* *Suggest we continue this discussion in th' mountain?
|
|
|
Post by Engel on May 12, 2007 2:24:22 GMT
Wonderful idea. *He nods, beginning back toward the mountain with the two squirrels. His silver-black ruff is raised, not in anger but in a futile attempt to free some of the heat caught and trapped in the dark, dense fur.* I remember the beast you're referring to. He's well enough, though he has a wound in his footpaw I don't want him walking on for the time being.
*He tosses his broken spear aside, picking between bodies with a relative nonchalance that speaks of having done it several times before.* And both of your friends were very anxious for you. *He flicks a black-tipped ear at Regen, tone turning desert-dry.* It's not usually in my noble nature to let serious concussions with broken arms out of bed, but he wouldn't have anything else, and I didn't think the rest of the healers needed the exercise of keeping him in the ward.
|
|
|
Post by Terragon Scrufftail on May 12, 2007 7:59:55 GMT
*Terragon gives Regen an amused expression. Regen came instead of Ashnel? Times are changing. Ash' deserves not to be heroic for once anyway. At this point, the squirrel's smile dies as she passes and catches sight of a mouse from Terralux. He's dead. November Ha'thorn... he wasn't even fifteen summers old and the searats killed him. Murderers!*
|
|
|
Post by Tinsy Stormsight on May 12, 2007 11:17:14 GMT
*Regen misses this part of the conversation. He is carefully picking through the bodies on the shore, avoiding looking at any of them too carefully.* Sure, I do this all th' time, but I KNOW most o' these beasts..
*The squirrel, having lost most of his weapons anyway, helps himself to a corsair's scimitar. He balances the blade for a moment, then sticks it through his sash and calls ahead, *Spoils 'o war....take what y' need, you two. Y' aren't gonna get a better chance.
|
|
|
Post by Terragon Scrufftail on May 12, 2007 12:06:42 GMT
*Terragon tears her eyes away from November's still face. See you soon, she tells the dead mouse and wanders past, without looking back. Despite Regen's advice, the leaderess keeps her gaze straight ahead, and doesn't attempt to take anything from the battlefield. Like a curse, you take something from the graveyard, and the ghosts come and find you. The squirrel can't think why she says it, but before she can think further, Terragon hears a familiar voice -* Terragon! *-And Starsett Jupiter lumbers forwards to meet the squirrels and fox.*
|
|
|
Post by Tinsy Stormsight on May 12, 2007 12:09:36 GMT
*Regen glances up, holding a dead rat's dagger in one paw, and stuffs the weapon into the back of his sash as the badger approaches. The squirrel quickly straightens up as best as possible, trying to avoid the badger's gaze.* .....why in Mossflower do I feel guilty now? I've done this b'fore, dark forest knows how many times...
|
|
|
Post by Engel on May 12, 2007 14:25:48 GMT
*For a moment as he passes a dead ferret with a sturdy-looking knife close to paw, Balder hesitates, tempted. Then he looks away, continuing on. That's the sort of thing that looks different when you do it, fox, he reprimands himself levelly. They look like honest woodlanders who can use the resources. You . . . . well. You look like scavenging vermin.*
*The sudden, focused movement of the two squirrels looking in one direction catches his eye and he turns as well, seeing the badger lord approaching them.* Lord Jupiter, *He greets, manners nearly military-crisp, pausing briefly to drop into a short bow.*
|
|
|
Post by Terragon Scrufftail on May 12, 2007 17:37:13 GMT
Don't, *Jupiter complains loudly.* As I will personally hang the next creature to bow. *He smiles to Balder.* Coping are you? Not been attacked again, either, I hope. *Terragon shuffles her footpaws in embarrassment, but the badger is more concerned that the squirrel is safe and well. After a moment, Jupiter turns to the other two, and adds in a nonchalant voice:* I'd be grateful if you could dispose of any weapons of your choosing in any manner you deem appropriate. But, *Starsett continues.* Remember, any of the searats lying here died in the same way as your friends. You must respect them.
|
|
|
Post by Engel on May 12, 2007 18:23:27 GMT
Beg pardon, sire, *Balder answers, shaking his head with an answering flicker of a smile.* Old habits and all. But yes, thank you.
*Despite himself, Balder feels his eyebrows lift in mild surprise at the badger's command. Now who's ridiculously noble? he muses, quietly impressed.*
|
|
|
Post by Tinsy Stormsight on May 12, 2007 19:44:02 GMT
*Regen grins, and, although he does not lose his trained military demeanor in the presence of a superior, he shifts his lance to the other paw and reaches back to adjust the knife.*
|
|
|
Post by Terragon Scrufftail on May 15, 2007 18:56:06 GMT
Don't worry, *Jupiter tells Balder.* Nobeast will mistake you for one of the corsairs. *Terragon tries to catch the fox's eye, and smirks guiltily like a dibbun behind the badger lord's back. Jupiter nearly sees this as he turns back to the squirrel to discuss the battle, and at once, Terragon grows serious again. After some minutes, Starsett Jupiter nods solemnly and gestures towards the mountain.* We should make our way back. The hares will no doubt miss a fine healer, Balder, and warrior, Regen; and Terragon, I assume Ashnel's far from happy waiting back in Salamandastron.
|
|
|
Post by Engel on May 15, 2007 19:09:19 GMT
*Balder catches the look, and returns it with a fleeting smirk of his own, more amused that everyone was so self-conscious of a perfectly justifiable mistake than anything. As Terragon and Jupiter converse, he glances around, pausing as he spots a half-familiar dagger and edging closer. It's still clutched in the stiff paw of a coarse-furred searat, and he turns the body over with one footpaw, frowning deeply. It takes a few seconds, then he recognizes the context of the face -- five years ago, from the two seasons he ran under Fang Bloodarrow. Hellgates. Sawtooth, you old cheat. Finally found your way back to the ocean.*
*He glances up as Jupiter's low tones start rumbling again, nodding.* You're very gracious, *He replies, flattered, following the group back into the mountain.*
|
|
|
Post by Terragon Scrufftail on May 15, 2007 19:17:43 GMT
I cope, *Jupiter answers earnestly, then his voice grows more bitter as he continues in the way a badger lord should.* One has to when one is a part of Salamandastron fortress. *Terragon throws the other a look that, though not disapproving, suggests that the squirrel does not think Jupiter's words appropriate now, right after the battle.*
|
|
|
Post by Engel on May 16, 2007 20:50:37 GMT
*Balder gives a diplomatic nod, though he finds his mind already wandering back to the infirmary, trying to catalog the half-dozen beasts he should see to when he gets back in. First priority, the two amputees - especially the doormouse. Stab wounds next, then gouges . . . wait, no, the hedgehog with the gut wound, then the amputees . . .*
|
|