FWC Chapter 8~ Chapter 8 Spreading Wings ~FWC Chapter 8 by SaynaSLuke
The early morning mist lay thick around Noonvale. Midnightshadow grazed quietly near Urran Voh's cottage, waiting for Rose. The black horse had found a good friend in the mouse maid, and she could be rather protective of her. Having been a slave to Clogg as long as she could remember, the horse had never had a friend until she met Rose.
There was the sound of muffled pawsteps as Rose slipped out of her house and came toward her friend.
"Good morning Midnight."
Midnight pricked her ears up. "Good morning! What are we doing today?"
Rose shrugged. "Let's go up the north ridge. I want to get in little practice."
She indicated the bow in her paw. Midnight was about to say something, but the soft clop of a hoof on stone betrayed another horse's presence.
"Who is it?" Rose asked warily, as Luna seemed to materialize from the fog.
"It's just me."
Midnight sighed with relief as Luna continued on in her abrupt, to-the-point way.
"I need to tell you something Rose. I
Who is Polly Ann? Ch 4: Rivalry and Relationship
Christine pulled into the Chicago area later that evening. The city itself was huge. Everywhere she went she saw trains moving in every which way. She was a bit nervous that, with all the different rail lines, she would lose her way and head onto the wrong track. However, she remembered what Mr. Guilford had told her and worked on paying attention to only the signals above her track.
Before long, she arrived at the station. She didn’t see any engines from the railroads that she had seen or talked to on her way into Chicago, but there were some others. There were engines from the Santa Fe, Wabash, Chicago & Eastern Illinois, Chesapeake & Ohio, and others.
This was Dearborn Station, as Mr. Guilford had called it, and it was a beehive of activity as Christine rolled to a stop at her assigned platform. Everywhere she looked were people moving around to get to their trains, porters carrying carts full of baggage to and from the trains, and train
Redwall...? Closer, just a little closer, she thought. Her paw was just inches away from feeling the fabric.
Just a little more, she thought, just a little
Ursela froze, her paw a hare's breadth away from touching the ancient fabric. At the sound of the voice, she hoped it wasn't who she thought it was. Turning her head slowly, Ursela eventually looked back and confirmed her fears.
There stood the curator, the temporary guide of the tour at the Redwall Museum. Even though he was part of the staff, he wore a different uniform than the rest. Instead of the traditional green-brown habit, he wore a fine silk suit in a sort a bluey-greenish-gray color, his tie being a solid black business-mans tie, with a cream hued undershirt. Instead of the habit, he wore a snake skin belt that had a diamond pattern of brown and black.
Though what stood out the most about the uptight rabbit were his eyes; one blueish-white, like ice, th
Awaken the RosebudsA Tribute to Brian Jacques
She could hear her granddaughter singing as she washed the remaining dishes. The song that holds many memories since the time of Martin the Warrior, although it had long since become forgotten as time passed by. But its melody hasn't been completely forgotten on the winds' breath or in their family. The roses would be in full bloom soon, except the roses haven't bloomed since her daughter's death.
Sighing contently, Rosebloom Mossflower listened to her granddaughter's voice. Many have noted that her voice reminded of the original singer. Yet her granddaughter's voice wasn't up to par yet, there was always something that caused the child to fumble up on the words or she would soon incorporate a different tune into the song all the sudden when daydreaming. Lost in her own memories, Rosebloom began to mouth the words, almost whispering them softly, not to disturb the song's lingering echo.
I Am That IsI Am That Is
"You say that it would most likely be here, then?"
"Oh yes, most assuredly."
"Well, we'll just take a look around then."
"I don't suppose you have any idea what you're looking for, do you?"
"Not particularly, no."
"Then let me do the major searching."
"Who said you'd be any better? Do you know what to look for?"
"'Cuse me, but seein' that I was in charge of buildin' this room, I should do the
"No. Doing it all on your own would take hours. You need help, Skipper."
"Agreed. We'll work together."
"Says the mousetheif who just moments ago seemed ready to do it all himself."
"Hey, I could of done it."
"You also said you didn't know what to look for."
"And I ask you, Martin, do you know what to look for?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Oh, really. Well, can you see it anywhere around here?"
"No, Gonff, I can't. That's why we need to look. Together."
"We've been looking for the past hour!"
"And we'll look for several hours more until we find it! This isn't a j
Rose....?The following takes place during the story "Mossflower" after Martin defeated Tsarmina.
Martin had been left alone for the night. His fever had gotten better after the Abbess's treatment, but he was still not entirely well. His delirious rambling had not ceased, and he was still talking to Boar at the Dark Forest's gate.
"Boar, what a swipe! Heheh. Look at this one....erm.....maybe not, aheheh.....Gonff watch that crab....Gonff, what is it? Who's.....
Martin the Warrior, standing at the very Gates of the Dark Forest, could not believe his eyes.
"Martin." Her voice as sweet as honey, her eyes deep and kind as he remembered them from what seemed to be a lifetime ago......
The escape from the prison pit with Felldoh and Brome. The Imprisonment
After Death: Martin's Active AfterlifeMartin the warrior awoke to the sounds of birds singing. He lay on what felt like warm grass, and he felt warm dirt beneath his paws. He opened his eyes cautiously. He wasn't dead?
"No, Martin my friend. You are very much dead." A deep voice resounded. Martin looked up to find Boar the fighter standing over him, not silver as he had remembered, but young and fierce. "Where . . . where am I" Martin asked as he sat up, looking around. They were in a large clearing, and surrounding them were dark woods, but through and around there shone the sun, though it was partially covered in mist. Martin couldn't tell if the sun shone from above the mist or if the mist was actually shining on its own. "You are at the dark forest. You slept so soundly just outside the gates that I brought you in. I have missed you, young mouse." Martin smiled; then his eyes grew wide. "Does that mean. . . my friends. . Rose?" He asked. Boar shook his head. "They have yet to arrive. For you see, your soul i
Eves of CrucivendetteEves of Crucivendette
A silent darkness fell over the ruins of Loamhedge, abandoned and shadowed by death. One beast stood in the darkness, but it was more than that…she was the darkness! Those cruel red eyes gleaming in the night like a manifestation of Vulpuz himself. Her name was Styx, and she was the chosen of evil, the daughter of darkness, and she had a mission. She walked along the halls, she was looking for her brother; he was dead. It had been ages since his death, and she had not known him, no, he was only her half-brother. But family had to stick together if they were to fight the curse they all suffered. Their father had angered a great power, a power that held the key to the flames, a power that could raise the dead, and bring new life from simply a thought. Her world had not known such power until the day this being broke the balance. He hid his influence in the world, but at last he had revealed it. Rathe
Merry Christmas, Redwall!A Short Christmas Message From Redwall...
The raggedy band of Nocks Rollteye was never quite sure what their old Chief was up to. They had been wandering together for years with the big odd fox, traversing the woodlands and flatlands by the western shore and scavenging a living off what they could find. There were nigh on forty of them, a good solid amount for safety in numbers. They were mixed weasels, rats, ferrets and stoats. And one oddball fox.
Nocks was the color of unworked iron from the tip of his scarred nose to the end of his bedraggled tail. He wore garments of woven goat's hair dyed in many different colors-a pair of breechclouts and a long coat with frayed edges dragging on the ground. His eyes were the hue of morning sky over the desert, a muted lavender which perplexed the Seers and bloodline-soothsayers alike. Nocks seemed to enjoy tripping them up.
It was the earliest of risers that spotted the thin curl of blue smoke from the top of their Chief's lean-to tent.
The night in Mossflower Woods was currently the blackest of blacks. There was no moon to be seen anywhere in the sky, nor were there any stars. The sky was ladened with dark clouds. Like rain clouds, except these seemed to be bone dry. And she knew this simply because she couldn't feel the moisture in the air.
She was dimly aware of this much, and that was a start. She wanted to look around to learn more, but it was too dark to see anything. There was nothing more to be seen except for the dim outlines of the treetops that surrounded her on all sides. Everything else vanished in the darkness, like it was trying to hide from her. Mentally, she scolded everything for doing that, as her throat felt too sore at the moment to scold it out loud.
Which was another thing to note. Her throat hurt. And now that she thought about it, a lot of things hurt on her personage at the moment. Her chest, her arms, her paws, her legs, her tail, her head...in short, everything hurt. Which brought up
RP-Fanfic - A Redwall Tale: Chapter 1Prologue
Just gather round the fireplace, my friends, and I will tell you a tale. But where shall I begin? It is a tale of how a young boy's destiny would intertwine with the close friends that he would discover in a faraway land, who would protect and nurture him when he had no-one else to care for him. A land not accustomed to the modern times of our world, but living peacefully in a self-contained medieval period, in which fortresses and knights in shining armour are the peak of technological advancement, populated not by men but by woodland creatures. Yes, it is a Tale of Redwall!
Yet strangely enough, our tale does not begin in Mossflower, but in war torn Korea, a land politically divided. A wounded raccoon mother was running for her life, carrying a small basket through the occupied territory of a rebel stronghold. Under the cloak of darkness she made for the port. She had to find a safe place.
Hiding behind a stack of
RP-Fanfic - A Redwall Tale: Chapter 2Chapter 2
“Good morning, Teong!”
The raccoon-dog awoke to find somebeast beside his bed, carrying a tray. It was a motherly-looking female mouse who appeared to be in her thirties.
A little disoriented and still half-asleep, he blinked owlishly at her, “Who? What’s going on…?”
“My name’s Cornflower, the wife of Matthias and mother of Mattimeo. They said you’d like breakfast-in-bed!”
Teong was about to take the cover off the tray, when he noticed Cornflower and some other mouseladies stripping some of the beds that needed clean sheets. He quickly forgot his breakfast and insisted on lending a helping paw – with the inevitable result was that he ended up looking like a walking pile of bedsheets and blankets.
Mattimeo, who was bringing in some empty laundry baskets, remarked, “I remember what that’s like…”
Teong’s muffled moans