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Post by Margorr on Nov 17, 2015 15:53:22 GMT -5
The Long Patrol had been marching hard since leaving Salamandastron. Major Rifflerun had taken them through the flatlands, so they could skirt the mountains and take the path to Redwall. The flat land made for faster travel as well. It was reaching noon, and the Major decided it might be best to give the Company a break, he wanted to get to Redwall as soon as possible, but it'd do Redwall no good if a group of exhausted hares showed up at their doorstep.
Calling a halt, Boggs turned to address the Company.
"We've made good time lads. You all deserve a break, wot. We'll take a half hour for lunch. Dismissed!"
He'd probably give them a little longer than a half hour. Major Rifflerun stayed a little ways apart from the main company, he wanted some time to himself.
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Post by Captain Bigwig on Nov 17, 2015 17:48:54 GMT -5
Dianthus had marched in silence, lined up near a few other young hares he didn't know all that well. Frederick, he assumed, was in a different section of the group, with the rest of the healers, and it made for a pretty miserable trip. The young hare hadn't been to Redwall Abbey before, and he tried to keep his spirits high by thinking about the whole situation as a new adventure - new opportunities, new friends, saving the day with the Long Patrol... He'd get to taste the Abbey's supposedly delicious food...
Who was he kidding? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to keep his mind from sinking back into a hole of despair. Since joining the Long Patrol, nothing this serious had happened, and Dianthus was beginning to feel more and more unprepared. His bow, large and heavy, anchored him as he walked, and he took to reaching behind himself to brush his paws over his arrows, counting them again and again. He also wore a small dagger at his belt, something generic given to him when he became a fully fledged Long Patrol hare.
As the Major called for them to stop briefly to take a break, Dianthus sighed, watching the hares around him disperse. He also watched the Major walk off to be alone, and Dianthus almost wondered if it would be inappropriate to go speak to him. The two hardly knew each other, after all...
Sitting down on a decent sized rock amidst the sand and the shrubs, Dianthus stretched his legs, whistling a tune very softly and putting all thoughts of attempting to speak with the Major from his mind. What could he possibly say? He'd only make a fool out of himself. The other hares were moving to eat, but Dianthus couldn't fathom attempting to stomach food right now, even though he knew needed it to keep his strength up. He just couldn't bring himself to care.
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Post by Margorr on Nov 27, 2015 3:02:21 GMT -5
Forgetting lunch for the time being, the Major dug through his bag for the map he'd brought along. He knew the way to Redwall sure enough, having been there several times, but he wasn't sure if there was a way they could go that was faster than the normal route. By the looks of this map though, there really wasn't. He'd just have to keep pushing them to march fast.
He still hated that. It'd wear on them a lot. He'd have to find a way to lift everybeasts spirits, that's for sure, including his own. He knew Lord Lasair had probably sent him out on this mission not only because he was fit for the job, but because it would give him something to do instead of getting into a fight with the General, or going after the vermin himself. Major Rifflerun knew he wouldn't be up for picking off the vermin like Lord Lasair wanted to do, especially not after Lucerne.
After determining the best route to Redwall was the one they were headed on, Boggs finally took time to eat something. He hadn't had breakfast really that morning, and was glad of the food. A small part of him was glad he was sent to Redwall, because they'd sure have much better vittles than the old cook at the mountain could make.
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Post by Thrush on Dec 20, 2015 2:39:12 GMT -5
Frederick
The lanky young hare had fallen into step beside his fellows, moving quickly across the flatlands. He had mostly gone along quietly. His attempts at singing a familiar marching tune or two eventually faltered and faded, and he found himself focusing more on putting one footpaw in front of the other and keeping up. Frederick kept thinking about the events of the morning--the sight of the second patrol, the chill that had gone up his spine as it dawned on him. He kept thinking about his friends from the first patrol, about Lucerne... And Major Rifflerun. Frederick knew full well that being a member of the Long Patrol meant that one could lay down one's life in battle. He had heard the stories--tales of his ancestors and how they had fought so bravely, how some of them had never returned from battle. But this... Hearing tales and living through the loss of comrades, of friends... Those were two very, very different matters.
Occasionally, he found himself fiddling with the strap of his satchel, full of medicinal supplies. The weight of his grandfather's rapier, sheathed at his side, was familiar. His mind had drifted to Redwall Abbey and to his duty. He had to look to the living, whether that meant tending wounds or heading into the fray against vermin. Nobeast deserved this. Not the first patrol, and not the goodbeasts of Redwall Abbey...
It was around noon when the Major called for the company to take a short break. As his fellows headed off into smaller groups and the Major went off alone, Frederick spotted a familiar fellow sitting on a rock. Dianthus. The lanky hare headed across the sand and shrubs to the rock and took a seat near his friend. Frederick dug his canteen and some of the rations that had been packed out of his haversack. For a moment, he was quiet.
Finally, he settled on, "Hello, old chap..."
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Post by Captain Bigwig on Dec 20, 2015 13:11:56 GMT -5
The moment he noticed Frederick was making his way over to him, Dianthus tried to sit a little straighter, look a little tougher, a little more... O.K. Watching the taller hare idly pull some things from his bag, Dianthus huffed, thinking of the food in his own. Perhaps, with some company, he could try to stomach something...
"G'day, sah. How's the marchin' for you? My feet are killin' me, wot! But gettin' to Redwall will make it worthwhile, I hear they've got the best bloomin' cellars of cordial and ale... And fantastic food..."
He tried to keep his tone light, but the usual mischievous glint in his eyes was gone entirely, and his shoulders sagged. Talking helped distract him. Reaching for his bag, he tugged out a small morsel to munch on, and took a swig from his canteen. He was grateful for the other hare's company, more than he could express, but still, he wished he could curl up in a ball and disappear for a while.
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bye!
