|
|
Post by Rainfeather on Nov 16, 2008 21:01:24 GMT -5
A harsh autumn storm was battering away at Redwall Abbey and the surrounding woods. Small trees were bent over and snapped like twigs, large trees rocked dangerously. Rain pelted the ground and walls mercilessly. The Abbey still stood, regardless of all the power that it through at the red building, it stood proudly.
In comparison, somebeast was all but crushed by the force of the storm. Whipped this way and that by the howling winds was a bird. A young Harpy Eagle, to be exact, with the pale white feathers of one that had not yet reached adulthood. For the past few days the storm had been tossing him like a toy. It had taken a few of the bird's wing feathers, and smacked him into some of the debree that was picked up. Now, the storm seemed to tire of him, and with a howl, tossed him at the ground.
Semi-conscious, the eagle pumped his wings feebily to slow his decent and alter his direction. It worked, th ough not to the extent he would have liked. Instead of fataly crashing to the ground, he crashed into the Abbey walls, snapping the bones in one of his wings and knocking his head against the wall. A screech of pain erupted from his beak, and he fell to the ground, fighting the darkness that threatened to take him. Rain battered at his body, and the winds blew above him. To him, it sounded like laughter.
|
|
|
|
Post by Skipper on Nov 17, 2008 18:06:53 GMT -5
Shor Tydesong, known better as Skipper, leaned back in a wooden chair, enjoying the warmth of the Abbey's gatehouse. He was glad to finally be back from the seemingly endless meeting at Camp Willow. Although he had been unconscious for at least half of the meeting, he had had to stand through the rest, which dragged on endlessly. That is, until the final announcement was made. Vermin had been spotted just outside Mossflower. No, not merely vermin, but a massive horde of them waited along the outskirts of the Wood. There had been no report of their intentions or motive, but Skipper didn't like the taste it left in his mouth. A storm was brewing, one much larger than the windstorm that howled outside. Of course, Skipper was an otter who enjoyed storms such as the one outside, and had opened one of the windows in order to listen to the calming sounds of rain and thunder.
As if on cue, the terrible sound of a crunch, then a sharp cry rent the air as something struck the northern wall of the abbey. This startled Skipper, causing him to fall out of his chair. Scrambling back up, he wasted no time, and rushed hurriedly out the door, not bothering to close it. He knew he would regret that decision later, but the regret could wait. Having quickly unbolted the gate, Skipper sprinted from the west to the north wall. The air smelled of salt, and the dark clouds seemed to be coming from the East, but he couldn't be certain in this light. Nevertheless, this storm had, no doubt, come from the sea.
He found the creature crumpled at the foot of the corner of the northern and eastern walls. It was an eagle, but smaller than the great eagles of the North Skipper had lived around. With a slight hesitation, Skipper removed his cloak, wrapped it around the bird, and lifted the still-breathing form. He tried to use his body to shield the creature from the rain and harsh winds as he hurried around to the gates. Meanwhile, he tried to keep the eagle awake by speaking to it. "Dinae worreh, wee beastie, Ah'll get ye tae Abbey, an' ye'll be raeght as rain bae tomorrow..." He hoped desperately that it would try to talk back. The longer it held onto consciousness, the better. He still didn't know the condition of the bird, but he could feel that it at least had broken a wing.
|
|
|
|
Post by Rainfeather on Nov 24, 2008 21:57:53 GMT -5
Rainfeather inhaled sharply, from the pain in his wing after being moved."Abbey? Ist daut vaut I've gone and hit? Aua. Remind me to not do daut again." He blinked, and tilted his head in curiosity. "Vaut exactly are you? I've niever seen en beest like yourself. Onnd, vuar ist dit 'Abbey?' I've niever heard of en plauts called daut." His head was still spinning, but the talking helped him focus. He tried to wiggle his injured wing a bit, and was rewarded with a small jolt of pain. "Aua. Ist mien ving ka'put? Vill I niever fly again?" There was worry in his voice.
(Sorry if his speech is a little confusing. let me know is there's something you can't understand. Here's a few: vuar(wuar)-where; plauts-place; ka'put-broken beyond repair)
|
|
|
|
Post by Skipper on Nov 25, 2008 18:38:06 GMT -5
((Dinae worry, it was perfectly understandable.  )
"Hae ye ne'er seen an otter before?" asked Skipper. It certainly was a talkative creature. Good, at least the bird was well enough to speak, though the dialect was one Skipper had never come across before in his seasons. What was "ka'put"? Of course, Skip's dialect wasn't the most typical of the region, either. "Dinae fre' yourself, birdie, your wing will beh faen bae th' end o' the season. Brother Tirael will make sure o' 'at," he encouraged. Skipper attempted to push closed the gate with his back, but the wind obviously wouldn't have it. He left the gate as it was, and instead made his way across the abbey grounds, until he reached the building itself. He was carefully ascending the stairs to the infirmary, which were, no doubt, the steepest in all of the Abbey -- probably the cause of most injuries in the first place. With this thought in one corner of his mind, he continued speaking with the bird. "Sae whaur dae ye come frae?" he asked.
((I'll return the favor  : Sae = so; whaur = where; frae = from.)) |
|
|
|
Post by Rainfeather on Nov 27, 2008 7:30:17 GMT -5
"En Otter? Niever heard of en beest by daut nome." Rainfeather replied. "Vuar I komm fonn, dee beem grow so big daut de bottom niever gets de sonneschien. Vie have schlange big enough to eat tvo of jie, killer eemskje all over de bottom, onnd piranha in most rivers." He let out a small sigh, his thoughts drifting to memories of his homeland. "So," His thoughts came back to the present. "Jie say daut dit 'Brooda Tirael' can fix my ving so I can fly again? He ist en Oatst?"
-------------------------------------------------------
((beem=trees; schlange=snakes; jie=polite form of "you"; eemskje=ants; Oatst=doctor, but for this it's healer.))
|
|
)
: Sae = so; whaur = where; frae = from.))