A first appearance

[Reema]

A slight breeze sprang up in the air, ruffling the leaves in the treetops, the bushes, and even on the ground. Reema’s dark green cloak billowed out behind her, letting her plain attire of a brown tunic and jet pants reveal themselves. Beneath the black sash belted at her waist, with her sling dangling from one end and her stone pouch from the other, the bottom of her shirt danced gracefully with the zephyrs of moving air.

Her ebony eyes rolled slowly around their sockets, taking in the splendor of the woodlands stretched out in front of her. It was a breathtaking sight, even with the proffered season billowing under her nose. She marveled at the craftsmanship of those who had built the settlement, from the huts and houses on the ground to the ones set firmly in the boughs of sturdy trees. A low whistle of amazement left her lips, and she proceeded onwards.

Before long, she came to stand directly before a ladder, undulating up the thick trunk of a stout tree until it met on the platform of a treehouse. From her peripheral vision, a tent was resting. With obvious curiosity, Reema stumbled to the door. Staring curiously at the engraving on the door, she looked around, looking for somebeast to tell her what exactly this was, she sidestepped so that she was not obscuring the door, and that, if it opened, it would not smack her. When she did not find anybeast, the molemaid shrugged and walked back to the tree she had seen earlier, sitting down with her back against the large trunk, idling away the time by pulling out her sling and twirling it, unloaded, in the air.

Before her, a lark flitted to the ground, pecking at the ground for morsels of food. Grateful for at least something to do, Reema set her sling on her lap and watched with amusement at the bird. She wrinkled her snout as a smile formed across her lips, and, with nothing better to do, she started to pretend that she was a bird as was the lark, soaring in the sky and cutting the air with brilliant wings, feeling the sun beating warmly against her back, and reveling at the wind that slapped on her face.

Her reverie was broken when the lark, with a loud trill of its song, flitted off. Reema cocked her head, wondering what had startled it so. With a shrug, she picked up her sling and began twirling it around again, her face painted with the brilliant colors of the sun, early in its stages of setting.

[Tinsy Stormsight]

Lonas Eale was, unexplicably, in an excellent mood.
It seemed like he shouldn't be. After all, Terralux was only facing attack and destruction any day now. Regen was working himself into the ground to keep it from happening..odd, since usually it was the other way around - Lonas chewed his claws to the fur about things, and Regen sat around drinking wine and fishing. Usually, also, it was Lonas being driven nuts by his brother's inactivity, and not the way it was now.
Funny how war turned soldiers into nervous wrecks. Maybe Regen knew something he didn't. But for now, Lonas didn't care. Life was good. Oakrose was doing fine, all was well with his family..or, at least, as well as it ever was. There were guards -guards! around his store, and Spring was on the way. Also, he had a drink...it was only rum with lime juice, but still good.
"A bottle of rum."
Yeah, that song again. Lonas was sure he'd heard it in Africay. Now, if only he could get rid of the blasted thing...
The golden squirrel, brown eyes merry, crashed through an area of underbrush. A lark flew away, startled by the sudden blaze of orange-and-red clothing as the turbaned creature came into its territory. Lonas grinned cheerily and pushed his turban..it had come slightly loose..back up on his head.
Lonas watched the colored bird, go raised the bottle in a toast to the small creature, and wove through the brush into a clear area.

There was a mole there, with a sling. Lonas stopped and studied the creature..it, or she, looked just like any other of the specie. The squirrel thought for a moment - Wonder where she came from? - cleared his throat, and offered a low bow.
"Madam! I am Lon's Eale o' th' Arkains. Who am I havin' th' honor of seein' with these eyes?"

[Reema]

Reema looked up abruptly at the speaker, blinking her eyes in surprise. When the feeling vanished, she looked the squirrel up and down, hardly able to stop her eyebrow cocking at the strangely colored attire he wore. With a slight smile, she hung the sling back onto her obsidian belt and replied, "Reema, zurr." She stood up and curtsied somewhat awkardly, her stubby legs giving hardly any leeway for free movement.

Upon looking back up, she nodded at him. "'Tis gurt noice t'meet ee, Lonas," she said, unable to keep her eyes away from the shirt in which he was dressed in. It gave a sharp contrast to the surroundings before them, making the squirrel stand out amid the woodland foliage.

Being rather forgetful at times, she payed no heed to the tent that she had, just moments before, been awfully curious about. Adjusting her cloak so that it draped down and covered her body from her shoulders down, she gave an impassive glance at the sunset, measuring the amount of time that was left before night would blanket the area. Almost immediately, she turned her gaze back onto Lonas. "Et's gurtly wunnerful yurrabouts," she commented, smiling her scruffy smile once more.

[Tinsy Stormsight]

"Reema? Wond'rf'l name. I likes it."
Lonas grinned, his thick Spanish accent almost as intelligable as the mole's, and stared around. It took him a moment to remember where he was..Starsett Hollow.
Oh no.
The last time he'd seen Terragon, the other squirrel had been in a bit of a mood. So much, in fact, that the likelihood of him getting laughed at for being drunk was...was....
He cleared his throat, staring somewhat nervously up at the treehouse, straightened his red shirt with a free paw, and cleared again.
"Et's gurtly wunnerful yurrabouts."
Lonas' attention returned sharply to the molemaid.
"Oh aye, 'tis. Th' lake in winter, th' Tavern in summer.."
He glanced up at Starsett Hollow again, expecting to see somebeast come out complaining about the noise. It took him a moment to realize what he'd just said.
"Oh, er, I means, th' lake in summer...and, aye."
The bottle suddenly grew heavy in his paw, as if reminding him that it was there. Lonas glanced down at it.
"Ah, a'scuse."
The golden squirrel took a swig of it, drank down as much as possible, and went fishing in his pockets for the cork. Meanwhile, he returned to chatting with this mole Reema.
"Miss Reema then aye? Where y'from?"

[Oakrose & Crew]

*Soilrose trundled along in her short, swift mole-steps. She had a basket under one arm. When the wind blows the plain white cloth aside, you can see various herbs and wild vegtables. The mole had been gathering fresh supplies, for their small garden wasn't planted yet. Oi'll harve ta get ee seeders oot an' do thart, boot Zurr Rushyrivvur seems willin' ta do thart. Soilrose smiled broadly and waved at the beasts.*
'Ello Zurr Lonaser, an' woo's thiss?

[Reema]

Reema blinked in surprise. Was Lonas really... Drunk? It seemed as such, even if it was only by a fractional amount. The molemaid opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it shut again, thinking it better not to potentially offend one of Terralux's residants.

Lake in winter, Tavern in summer, lake in summer? Yes, this squirrel was definitely out of it. Though she did not know if this was a regular thing, it made Reema uneasy, and it only worsened the dread as Lonas took a long draught from the bottle that he clasped in his paws. Restraining herself from gulping, she shuffled her paws and answered.

"Oi? Oi'm from ee H'abbey of Redwall, zurr."

At that same time, she heard the scuffling of another set of paws, then a voice in the quaint accent of molespeech. Tilting her head so that she could see the owner of the noises, she smiled and waved back. Though the question was not directed at her, the molemaid answered anyways.

"Reema, marm. Oi be's new yurr."

[Tinsy Stormsight]

"Milady Soilrose. How's the fam'ly? Master Rushriver and his lovely wife and chil' doin' well? Howabout Oakrose?" Lonas grinned at the mole as the other approached, bowing again. A little of the rum slopped out of the bottle, and he frowned a bit while he dug for the cork again. He thought he'd brought it..after all, he had it when he left the Nest, and that wasn't too long ago. A few minutes, maybe?
"This be..Reema. Reema, Soilrose. Also of the esteem'd Abbey, incidentally." The new mole had already introduced herself anyway, but Lonas repeated the name just in case. It never hurt, although it wasn't always polite. But hang politness anyway..one didn't get any points for drinking in company, either.
Redwall..
Lonas had seen Redwall Abbey from a distance, although never been there. He tried to stay away from institutions, even quasi-religious ones..they frowned on his habits, as a rule.
But then, so did everyone..Oakrose, Soilrose, Terragon, Ashnel, Rippla. Lonas had learned to live with it.
He found a cork in his pocket after a second and tried it..wrong one. Actually, if he squinted he could see that it said 'Wine, Italia' on it. Oh.
Lonas tossed it on the ground and kept looking.

OOC: Lonas Eale litters, everyone.

[Oakrose & Crew]

OOC: *Gasp* Such a shocker.
BIC:

*Soilrose nods at Reema, the adverts her attention back to Lonas. The awareness of the golden squirrel seems to be just to humor him, however. The brown-clad mole shakes her head sadly, and turns to Reema. Soilrose whispers in her ear.*
'E's always drunk loik this.... whull, most alwayers. Tis quoite sad, actualloi. Noice ta meet ya, boi th' way. Oi warss raised art ee Abbeyer, an' joined DABber.
*She raises her voice, once again almost to humor the drunken squirrel.*
Yurss Zurr Lonaser, Zurr Rushyrivver, Miz Clearstreamer, Oice an' Frozt arr doing foine. Miz Oakyroser...
*She pauses and sighs. Oi doan't think annything bad harss 'appened since they gort together again... but 'e iz drunk.*
...iz foine, she's foine. Feel free to coom boi ee cottager anytoime, moind.

[Terragon Scrufftail]

*Voices can be heard. In the fringes of the woodlands beyond the clearing and coming closing, two creatures are walking and by her laughter and voice, one of the pair can, in moments, be unmistakably recognised as Terragon Canopy.* We managed to convince him, y'see, that we were allowed out of the Abbey - unaccompanied - at whatever hour we chose! We ended up with a key for one of the side gates! *Her laughter dies away. By now the two, Terragon and an otter, have reached the clearing. Looking to Starsett Hollow, the squirrel notices the group clustered at the foot of the ladder and raises a paw in greeting.* Good times, *She murmurs to the other, Kaell, the otter messenger from St. Ninian's. And, quickening the pace with a nod at the other Terraluxians,* Come on.

*Hurrying up, Terragon raises her paw again.* Ev'ning. Lonas, Soilrose, *She gives a brief nod to both.* And... ah, *The leaderess gives something like an exasperated intake of breath and clicks two claws together, the second mole's name escaping her.* You're going to have t' tell me, *She says apologetically - but still with the ghost of a smile - after a long moment.* 'Cause I'm afraid I can't remember for the life of me what your name is. *She glances hopefully at the others. Her name? She asks, this time silently.*

OOC: Urgh, apologies for such a rubbishy post. The most I've written recently is a 'memo' note on the back of my hand in eyeliner.

[Shale August]

Shale August thrived in the trees. It was fact, undeniable and unarguable, that the young pine marten found her natural environment up in the trees. Never was it toil for her to scamper about in the canopy, springing from branch to branch in a smooth, fluid sequence. It was a delight to feel the texture of the bark beneath her paws as she ran and climbed and swung, it was a delight to whip the colored leaves with her bushy tail, it was a delight to move in such a way that she became a wraith, flipping and bouncing in her home territory. She could jump out and surprise all but the most alert of beasts when she was in such a state.

But no, she could never reach that very peak of Zorian, when she felt herself melting across time and space. There was something essential missing in her, Oroitz had told her, that prevented her from achieving mastery. If only she could find that something, she could return home! But she would look for Fray first. Perhaps she would go to Morocco like he had done, and visit the Great Sands the Andalusians had talked about. Maybe she would look for Elias instead, for he was sure to be somewhere in Europe, and no one could miss such a distinct marten. One day she would be home…

Not yet, she thought, as she slid down a branch of a tall pine tree, her claws cutting grooves in the bark. As she neared the end of the branch, she launched into the air with a backwards flip, spinning in the air. The first time she had tried that, she had thrown up in the air and crashed on the ground, but now she was good at it. She could control her spin, and land or kick off wherever she wanted – in this case, a large elm. Striking out with her footpaws, she kicked the trunk, intending to flip forward, yet she lost momentum and flew back towards the pine.

“Aieeee!” She shrieked, before she could regain her composure and grab a low hanging branch from the pine tree she had originally been climbing. She swung on the branch, effectively breaking it, but at least lowering herself safely to the ground. Landing lightly on her feet, she gritted her teeth angrily. “Je suis pas un amateur!” She snarled, dusting off her black tunic-jacket. Misjudging momentum was an amateur mistake, after all.

Suddenly, her cream-colored ears perked up and her whiskers twitched. She could hear faint voices not far off. Blinking, she checked her apparel and strode towards the direction of the noise, composing herself as she went. It wouldn’t do to show herself in a disrespectable form, of course. Replacing the annoyance in her features with complete impassiveness and disregard, she strode between the trees, her brown eyes fixed on the clearing where she could see several beasts assembled. Two squirrels, two moles, an otter.

It seemed to her there were too many of those around, but it didn’t really matter now. Her practice time was over now, and she would have to pass the clearing to get to her little camp anyway. It wouldn’t make too much of a difference to see who was there and what they were doing. In her training territory, of all places.

“Ah, what is zis?” She asks, as she emerges in the clearing. She looks around at the other beasts, but gives a shrug as she recognizes none of them. “Shale August, mesdames, messieurs.”

((OOC: I'm guessing this is open and still active?))

[Oakrose & Crew]

OOC: I guess it's still active, it hasn't been pinned yet.
BIC:

*Soilrose grinned at the approaching squirrel and otter.*
Miz Terragonner! An' Zurr h'otter.... Oi'm zorry Oi doan't know yoor namer, Zurr Rushyrivvur told Oi, boot boi okey Oi doan't rememberer et.
*Using memories from her Dibbunhood and the end of their conversation, Soilrose figured out what they were talking about.*
Yuss, Zurr Zeestarr an' yoo an' Roobin, Oi berleive, were quiote a groop. Allus vurry foon to piller-foight with, boot mooch trooble furr ee Elders, Oi'm shure.

*As Shale falls, the mole jumps. Looking back at the marten, she offers a surprised greeting.*
'Ello Miz Zhale. Oi'm Soilrose.

[Tinsy Stormsight]

Lonas doesn't seem quite sure who to turn to first. Thus, in his usual way, he deals with both at once.
"Ah! Terragon, Miss Reema. Reema, Terragon Scrufftail." He gestures quickly from one to the other with his free paw, grins broadly at the marten, and keeps talking. His voice is quite cheerful..he's clearly glad to see some new creatures about.
"Mad'messelle." His French is atrocious..it's spoken with a Spanish accent, to begin with, and pronounced wrong anyway. "I'm Lonas Eale."
The golden squirrel doesn't seem bothered by his quick and not-quite-polite introduction. He goes back to digging in his pocket for a cork.
This time he finds one that appears to fit and smashes it down into the bottleneck. The bottle he seems to be at a loss for what to do with..after a moment looking for pockets, he simply holds the thing in one paw.
"Pleased t' meet ye."

[Shale August]

"’Ello Miz Zhale. Oi'm Soilrose." One of the moles greeted her warmly enough, with the typical mole accent, though seemingly mildly surprised by the marten’s sudden appearance.

Shale nodded politely in return, twitching her nose slightly in an unreadable emotion. Flicking up a stray leaf with her bushy tail, she subtly shifted her footpaws into a more comfortable position. A more comfortable position for talking.

Next to speak was the golden squirrel, the male one. "Ah! Terragon, Miss Reema. Reema, Terragon Scrufftail." But no, that had nothing to do with her. Yet there was something about the squirrel’s voice that tickled something deep in the back of her mind, which she couldn’t quite remember.

Then the squirrel turned to her with a grin, and continued to talk, this time addressing the marten. "Mad'messelle. I'm Lonas Eale."

Shale’s thickly-furred ears suddenly perked up in curiosity, as she recognized what had been bothering her - the Spanish accent. Ah, so there was someone from the better regions of the continent around! She opened her mouth to speak, but her own accented words faded in her mouth as she finally noticed the bottle in the squirrel’s paw, and the way he started fumbling for the cork. She was slightly alarmed, but not particularly disconcerted. She did not think of alcohol well, but neither was it any business of hers whether another beast drank. Typical Spaniard.

"Pleased t' meet ye." Concluded Lonas finally, and Shale nodded.

"So, you are from ze Spains?" She hesitated, before continuing with her piqued curiosity. "I am Euskaldunak. A Vasco, a Basque, of ze Pyrénées. Might I ask, from where you come? I ‘ave bin in much of ze Spains." She finished, rather lamely, as she herself thought, with her own throaty French accent. She realized that she could be being too inquisitive and unlike herself, yet it was pleasure to meet someone whom she could identify with. Even if that someone was a drunk golden squirrel.

[Tinsy Stormsight]

"So, you are from ze Spains?" She hesitated, before continuing with her piqued curiosity. "I am Euskaldunak. A Vasco, a Basque, of ze Pyrénées. Might I ask, from where you come? I ‘ave bin in much of ze Spains."

"Oho!" Lonas grins broadly, just as pleased to meet someone who isn't English as the pine marten is. He bows slightly, touching his forehead..he cannot remove his hat, as he is only wearing a turban, although he might like to. "Th'n I'm triply pleas'd t' meet ye, Miss August. 'Tis always nice t' meet a beast from th' more civilized..that is, I mean Cath'lic..reg'ns o' th' world."
Even if 'tis France, an' not Spain or Italy or anyplace where they drink good wine. But ah well. 'Tis better th'n Englan', where all they appear t' drink is ale. Bu' then, they don't grow grapes 'ere.
He stands again, and shoots his grin at Reema and Soilrose. He even has the grace to look slightly apologetic, although he isn't really sorry. In fact, he does consider England to be rather barbaric..although this is, of course, the typical egotism of Spain and national pride, and not through any dislike of the country.
"Meanin' no offense...ye ladies are o' course English, an'..well, not 'xactly Christ'n..but ye can't help it."

"I am of the Eale family, sort of." (he says to the pine marten) "My brother ye may have heard of ... Milord Duke (as ye' English say) don Corin de Corveda Eale. I am from th' Catalans..Corin, currently, rules the Arkains, which is an earld'm. Ye' may 'ave heard of it?...we, or they in any case, make excell'nt wines."
Lonas waits a moment for some sign of recognition, then shrugs. "Unfort'nately, my fam'ly an' I 'ave had a bit of a fallin' out, ye might say. My brother Reg'n, though, is a duke und'r Corin an' an Ambassd'r."
He pauses again in case the pine marten gives any sign of knowing the names, heaves the bottle up like he might drink from it, and remembers the cork in time to save himself an embarrasment. Instead, he steps over and sets the bottle on a low branch on the Starsett tree, carefully acting as if he meant to do that all along.

OOC: I can't remember..it is king, duke, earl, baron, right? I get them mixed up all the time. I think I may have earl and duke switched around wrong..and there may be another one between king and duke.
*must also check to make sure she's using the right title for Corin. Hates historical inaccuracy.*

[Terragon Scrufftail]

*Terragon nods to Reema, but her attention is drawn by the newcomer and her accent. French? Interesting. The squirrel knows only too well that she does not speak the language, though she remembers with a flicker of wistfulness how easily Ashnel was able to reel off verbs and phrases but a few years ago. Why, on the journey from Redwall Abbey, he'd done nothing except jabber away in French!*
*Distracted by this thought, Terragon doubles takes as Kael, the otter, begins to speak,* Enchanté, Mademoiselle, *He murmurs, offering his paw with just the smallest, polite inclines of his rough-furred head.* Je m'appelle Alfkaell Ageirr. *He gives this introduction with a swift glance and smile at Soilrose by way of answering her question.* Et cette écureuil, *Kael gestures at Terragon.* Est Terragon Scrufftail.
*Hearing her name, Terragon gives a brief smile, still recovering from the discovery of Kael's new talent. It seems the otter is rather skilled in languages and accents... even if he does only rarely speak.*

OOC: My apologies to anyone who is a more gifted French-speaker than I am; I have no idea if Kael's French is actually right. It may be that I've mistakenly thrown in some German or Latin. *Choose thy GCSE options carefully - thou may find four languages a little difficult and shalt have to drop Ancient Greek.*

EDIT: Oh dear, I seemed to be posting a tonne of OOC apologies at the moment. Meh.