"Far Across The Western Plains"

[Terragon Scrufftail]

*Ashnel looks with heavy thoughtfullness down at the empty bottle in his paw, then back again to the inky heavens and the pinpricks of light which are the stars overhead. Sat in the long, course grass, the night air creeps through his fur and he half-heartedly gathers his cloak tighter around his shoulders. The bottle is days-empty, the squirrel knows, but the cool, uneven glass and the stale stench of old rum is oddly calming.*
*Taking his eyes from the stars, Ashnel stares back across the grasslands, in the direction he came from, briefly, and then more carefully, contemplating the stranger, the badger, he met on the road. And slowly, he finds his thoughts wandering in the direction of Terralux, as they have done every night before he sleeps. But there is not a trace of drowsiness in the former Captain's face as, unbidden, Terragon appears in his mind's eye; devilish half-smile and gleaming eyes clear as day. Ashnel too allows himself a smile at the memory. And at this, he realises - stronger than ever - and without knowing why, that he truly does not mean to return to Terralux.*
*Ashnel looks thoughtfully down at the empty bottle in his paw and, with a breath of laughter, puts it back in his bag and gazes up at the stars.*

OOC: Tinsy, you can continue to RP the badger if you like as I didn't specify whether he'd travelled with Ashnel or onwards.

"This town is colder now,
I think it's sick of us,
It's time to make our move,
I'm shaking off the rust,
I've got my heart set on anywhere but here,
I'm looking down at myself,
Counting up the years.
Steady hands,
Just take the wheel.
And ever glance is killing me.
Time to make one last appeal
For the life I lead.
Stop and stare,
I think I'm moving
But I go nowhere.
Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared,
But I've become what I can't be."
Republic

[Tinsy Stormsight]

See who comes over the red blossomed heather
Their green banners kissing the pure mountain air
Heads erect eyes front, stepping proudly together
Freedom sits throned on each proud spirit there
And down the hill twining, their blessed steel shining
Like rivers of beauty that flow from each glen
From mountain and valley, 'tis Liberty's rally
Out and make way for the bold Fenian Men!

The badger in question is several hundred yards behind, taking his sweet time and grinning at the evening sky. Yeah, he's in a great mood. Cuchullian, Charles, he has everything he wants..his blade, his drink, and a traveling companion.
Although the companion turned out to be a bit moody, the squirrel Alashia wasn't a bad sort. He was English, of course, which usually spelled bad things, but this one didn't seem to be that grouchy or murderous. Just, well, moody.
Charles was running out of rum as well. He was saving the last bottle for when he got to Spain, because he'd need it as a bribe. Those people were very proud of themselves, and weren't going to let some scruffy Irishman through their borders without reason. Heheh. Once he could have gotten around on a title and a song, but not anymore. The Spanish liked their drinks.
A good thing, too. It was why he got along so well with them.
The stars were out now. Charles stopped to stare up at them, still grinning. The heavens were going on their age-old rotations, as always. Circles or something like that, according to his old priest (the Father had fancied himself a 'physicist.') The badger had never paid much attention to them anyway, aside from using them as a compass.
He went on, speeding up a bit with his staff over his shoulder so as to keep up with Alashia. The squirrel was going to Spain as well, in the same direction as he was. He had an empty bottle in one paw..the rum Charles had given him. He started on the next verse of the song, since he could.

We've men from the Nore, from the Suir and the Shannon
Let tyrants come forth, we'll bring force against force
Our pen is the sword and our voice is the cannon
Rifle for rifle and horse against horse
We've made the foul Saxon yield many a red battlefield
God on our side we will triumph again
Pay them back woe for woe, give them back blow for blow
Out and make way for the bold Fenian Men!

He might be one of those himself, only not. The Saxons were less of a worry than their masters, the Normans. Charles had heard that the king of Mossflower was a Norman. He wasn't suprised, as they were filthy bastards the lot of them.
It was too quiet for him. The badger trotted the last few steps to stroll beside Alashia, looking around him with amusement.
"So..ye e'er been to Spain?"
It wasn't a great attempt to make conversation, but could be worse.

[Terragon Scrufftail]

"So..ye e'er been to Spain?" *Ashnel's eyes flick to the badger and away again. He takes a while to reply, mulling leisurely over the question. It is a strange luxury, he muses, to be able to take time - beautiful, unnecessary time - over an answer. Then, finally, gaze still fixated on the stars, he speaks.*
No, never occurred to me to. Not until you mentioned the place. Although, *He adds, a little more thoughtfully.* I did know some creatures from those parts. Good friends of mine. Still, *Ashnel continues, looking to the badger with a wild grin.* There's a million places I could visit and I don't suppose Spain is the worst. *He nods his head at the road ahead.* Shall we?
*Without waiting for Charles' response, Ashnel sets off, but gets no further than his first step for he looks back again, a quizzical look now accompanying his smile, which is now half-gone.* What was that song you were singing? I recognise the tune, but haven't heard it in... *He thinks.* Years, certainly. Couldn't say how many though.