Post by duckflesh on Jul 13, 2003 0:16:55 GMT -5
No Lightning Tonight.
-by Duck Flesh
The night is dark. The two mice, having been patrolling the battlements of Redwall Abbey, exchange a friendly word as they pass each other.
“Damn, looks like we’re going to get rained on.”
“Just our luck, eh? Maybe that cute little squirrel maid will bring us some soup to warm us up.”
The older of the two mice chuckles mildly at this as he continues on his march around the old, sturdy wall. He sighs softly. This kind of guard duty wouldn’t be necessary, but there was some kind of threat out there in the woods that had been harassing beasts on the main road. To think he could be asleep in his big, comfy bed, his wife by his side. He smirks softly at the though, and looks up to see he and the younger guard are about to cross paths again. They never quite make it, the two suddenly snapping their heads up to the woods as an earsplitting tear rips through the air. A broken tree slams down within feet of the Abbey, adding a terrible crash to the pitter patter of the rain that has just begun to pour. The mouse’s eyes rise to the source of the discourse, and his mouth widens in hoar. He can’t see the soldier next to him, but his senses tell him the poor fellow has lost control of his bowels, and is almost certainly going to faint, maybe even topple from the wall top. So he’s alone. Snapping up his bow and stretching back an arrow on the string, he aims for the thing’s neck. He lets it go. The arrow flies straight and true, just like his arrows always have, yet his heart sinks as he sees it sink into the beast’s leather-like flesh. The arrow didn’t penetrate through. It would also seem the thing had come closer to the wall, because a giant clawed arm is flashing towards him. His last thought is of his wife, and the pain lasts only seconds before his life fades from existence.
The young vole maid in the kitchen winces slightly at the sound of a tree falling in the woods, no doubt very close to the Abbey. Funny, she thinks as she pulls a tray of hot scones out of the oven. She hadn’t heard any lightning. Placing the scones on the counter, she walks over to the kitchen’s single tiny window, wipes off the fog that has obscured it, and looks out, wondering if she’ll be able to catch the next lightning bolt lighting up the air. Yet, though it’s started to rain quite heavily, she sees no lightning, even though now she can hear a loud, constant banging. Something catches her eye. The gate is shaking. Isn’t it? Yes, she was sure of it now. The Abbey’s big, wooden gate was shaking, as though there was an entire ship’s crew of rats on the other side with a battering ram. But how could that be? The sentries would have called out…
An elderly squirrel in the gatehouse looks up from a dusty old parchment. The gate was shaking…was the rain coming down that hard? As he stands to go see what is going on, the gate splinters, and the squirrel’s knees buckle from sheer terror as the huge, black beast rampages through the door’s broken remains. He drops to the ground, gasping for breath. Realizing his spectacles have been thrown across the floor, he gropes blindly for them on his hands and knees. Finally he finds them, scrambling to put them on. He never does. The thing slams its arm down on gatehouse and the roof collapses in on him, crushing his frail body easily.
The Abbess, a middle-aged mouse with a kind heart, sets down her book, frowning slightly. She had an awful feeling, and a terrible sound of splintering wood had just emanated through the air. It occurred to her suddenly a tree in the orchard might have been struck by lightning, and could have fallen on the gatehouse. Jumping to her feet with a surprising show of speed, she is out of her tiny room in an instant. She darts down the hall, bolts down the stairs, and finally makes it to the door that leads out of the main building into the courtyard. She throws it open.
Just reaching the main building, the Alligator Snapping Turtle favors the little mouse with his own version of a smile as he leans in, beak opening. Mice were his favorite.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
~For ZorakBrak64, who gave me the idea for this one, and especially for Fadedsilence, who inspired me to write it in the first place.
Email Duckflesh@aol.com with questions, comments, etc.
I do not own Redwall, etc., etc., etc.
Thanks for reading.
-by Duck Flesh
The night is dark. The two mice, having been patrolling the battlements of Redwall Abbey, exchange a friendly word as they pass each other.
“Damn, looks like we’re going to get rained on.”
“Just our luck, eh? Maybe that cute little squirrel maid will bring us some soup to warm us up.”
The older of the two mice chuckles mildly at this as he continues on his march around the old, sturdy wall. He sighs softly. This kind of guard duty wouldn’t be necessary, but there was some kind of threat out there in the woods that had been harassing beasts on the main road. To think he could be asleep in his big, comfy bed, his wife by his side. He smirks softly at the though, and looks up to see he and the younger guard are about to cross paths again. They never quite make it, the two suddenly snapping their heads up to the woods as an earsplitting tear rips through the air. A broken tree slams down within feet of the Abbey, adding a terrible crash to the pitter patter of the rain that has just begun to pour. The mouse’s eyes rise to the source of the discourse, and his mouth widens in hoar. He can’t see the soldier next to him, but his senses tell him the poor fellow has lost control of his bowels, and is almost certainly going to faint, maybe even topple from the wall top. So he’s alone. Snapping up his bow and stretching back an arrow on the string, he aims for the thing’s neck. He lets it go. The arrow flies straight and true, just like his arrows always have, yet his heart sinks as he sees it sink into the beast’s leather-like flesh. The arrow didn’t penetrate through. It would also seem the thing had come closer to the wall, because a giant clawed arm is flashing towards him. His last thought is of his wife, and the pain lasts only seconds before his life fades from existence.
The young vole maid in the kitchen winces slightly at the sound of a tree falling in the woods, no doubt very close to the Abbey. Funny, she thinks as she pulls a tray of hot scones out of the oven. She hadn’t heard any lightning. Placing the scones on the counter, she walks over to the kitchen’s single tiny window, wipes off the fog that has obscured it, and looks out, wondering if she’ll be able to catch the next lightning bolt lighting up the air. Yet, though it’s started to rain quite heavily, she sees no lightning, even though now she can hear a loud, constant banging. Something catches her eye. The gate is shaking. Isn’t it? Yes, she was sure of it now. The Abbey’s big, wooden gate was shaking, as though there was an entire ship’s crew of rats on the other side with a battering ram. But how could that be? The sentries would have called out…
An elderly squirrel in the gatehouse looks up from a dusty old parchment. The gate was shaking…was the rain coming down that hard? As he stands to go see what is going on, the gate splinters, and the squirrel’s knees buckle from sheer terror as the huge, black beast rampages through the door’s broken remains. He drops to the ground, gasping for breath. Realizing his spectacles have been thrown across the floor, he gropes blindly for them on his hands and knees. Finally he finds them, scrambling to put them on. He never does. The thing slams its arm down on gatehouse and the roof collapses in on him, crushing his frail body easily.
The Abbess, a middle-aged mouse with a kind heart, sets down her book, frowning slightly. She had an awful feeling, and a terrible sound of splintering wood had just emanated through the air. It occurred to her suddenly a tree in the orchard might have been struck by lightning, and could have fallen on the gatehouse. Jumping to her feet with a surprising show of speed, she is out of her tiny room in an instant. She darts down the hall, bolts down the stairs, and finally makes it to the door that leads out of the main building into the courtyard. She throws it open.
Just reaching the main building, the Alligator Snapping Turtle favors the little mouse with his own version of a smile as he leans in, beak opening. Mice were his favorite.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
~For ZorakBrak64, who gave me the idea for this one, and especially for Fadedsilence, who inspired me to write it in the first place.
Email Duckflesh@aol.com with questions, comments, etc.
I do not own Redwall, etc., etc., etc.
Thanks for reading.