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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 30, 2017 18:59:07 GMT -5
By the time they’d reached the entrance to the Great Hall, Kay was eagerly leading the way. She had a lot of things she wanted to tell Jan about, all the things that she hadn’t had time to tell him about last night. With the sun up, there was a lot to do, a lot of places to explore. What was even better was that Kay didn’t have to concentrate so hard on being quiet. Kay was not naturally a quiet little girl, and it was really evident during the day when she was allowed to talk to her heart’s content. Jan seemed like the quiet sort though, with how he talked to the Sister and the Brother. Brother Matthews’s soft “good luck” before they left hadn’t really reassured her that Jan would like her during the day. Did quiet people like loud people? Vig liked Kay, and she was quiet, but the quiet dibbuns tended to stay away from her. ‘Course, they tended to stay away from everyone…
Still, Kay was eager to enjoy the day with her new friend. It wasn’t every day she made a new friend, especially one she’d met during a nighttime walk. Obviously Jan was good luck too, because Kay hadn’t gotten into much trouble at all and usually she was given a scolding and some extra chores as punishment for sneaking around after hours.
These last points were things she told Jan about after the Brother and the Sister left. She kept her worries he wouldn’t like daytime her to herself.
While traveling down the hall she pointed out tapestries and recounted bits of tales she’d heard about each.
“…An’ I don’ really know the story behind this one, but it’s got a sword in it, so I bet it’s about a Champion of Redwall. I only know a couple of them though, but I really like the songs abou’ them. I like music class a lot actually, ‘cause then I get to dance, only the teacher says I’m supposed to play music an’ no’ dance, which is really unfair because if there’s music I can’ help that I wanna dance but he says he understands, an’ that I can dance so long as I play music at the same time, or sing….”
Kay paused, and took a breath. She’d been talking in one long sentence again, even though she’d been told not to do that. She couldn’t help it though: The words just spilled out of her without end. Hopefully Jan didn’t mind too much.
Glancing around as they entered, Kay took note that the dibbuns were just leaving the hall. Apparently that detour she’d led them on had delayed them longer them she expected. Ah well, that was alright with Kay. She preferred to eat with the late breakfasters anyways. There were fewer of them and they were less likely to talk over her. It sure did look nice today. Sunlight was pouring in through the stained glass windows, and the room was nice and peaceful. Almost as peaceful as it was at night, but not quite. There wasn’t the same stillness. Still, it sure was pretty how the light fell on the tables… Her eyes caught on one corner of one of said tables.
“Look Jan,” she interrupted her own story. “They left us breakfast!”
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Django
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Post by Django on Jun 30, 2017 19:35:18 GMT -5
Django was feeling much more awake the more sunlight he encountered through the windows, and Kay's endless stories helped his brain focus on something. He showed her he was paying attention with intermediate noises of confirmation or question. He wasn't used to making words this early in the morning, but she seemed to have enough for the both of them.
“Look Jan, they left us breakfast!”
Kay was right. A bowl of fruit, half a pile of scones, and an assortment of other breakfast dishes were still left on the end of one of the tables. As the mousemaid led them to the food, Jan blinked in the sudden shaft of light from a stained-glass window. Bright green wasn't a color of light he expected in the morning. Sight returning, he sat down and picked up a scone.
He could eat enough to rival a hare, but since he was kind of sharing breakfast with someone else today, he refrained from stuffing his face. He chewed on his scone, thinking about the "good guys" he was meant to carve today. They would probably be mice, because Kay was a mouse, and seeing a good guy that looked like her would maybe help her feel safe. He also wondered if he could come up with some words or phrases to carve onto them, make them extra safe.
Well, now he was just making charms. Was it dangerous to meddle in things like that? Was he going to invoke something he shouldn't? It's not like he made a regular practice of this, so he wasn't a witch or sorcerer or anything. He was probably just overthinking this. He also had to figure out a way to actively involve Kay in the process of making them, because he knew an energetic girl like her wouldn't just sit and wait for him to finish. He'd think of something.
"I'm no' a good dancer myself," he said, picking up another scone. Plans could wait until later. "What kinda music d'ya like best t' dance to?"
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 30, 2017 20:38:35 GMT -5
Kay sat down quickly and started working on a bowl of porridge to which she added a liberal amount of sugar. As a growing mouse maid, she was naturally ravenous, with a sweet tooth to boot. Scooping it out with a scone instead of a spoon, she ceased her chatter. Too many times had she been scolded to talking with an overly stuffed mouth.
"I'm no' a good dancer myself,"
Well that was sad. Kay didn’t think there was anything better in the world than dancing. Then again, Jan had his carvings. Those were pretty neat. Maybe his carving was like Kay’s dancing: His own special talent that made him happy.
"What kinda music d'ya like best t' dance to?"
Having taken a particularly large bite as he asked his question, Kay used some cider to quickly wash it down. In doing so she noticed that there wasn’t any tea at the table. Probably the Sister didn’t want her drinking some by accident again. Apparently they hadn’t enjoyed it the first time.
Food successfully swallowed, Kay answered.
“I liked the songs my father played the best. He had a fiddle, and some nights he’d play it for us. But I never knew the titles, ‘cause he just played what he wanted.” Kay could still remember watching him from over the fire, until she grew brave enough to join in. It used to hurt, thinking of Papa. Now though, the pain attached to the memories had faded and she could talk about him again. Could want to talk about him again. “Music teacher plays songs too, but he tells us the names before and after so we remember. I like dancing to Hop, Hop, Hop, Rappity Tap and the Rain Song. Not everyone does though, but I think those songs have a good rhythm and that’s important when dancing. But the one song I like that I don’t really dance to is A Traveler’s Life. ‘Cause it makes me think of home.”
Home of course was a complicated thing in Kay’s world. It meant both the red walls of the Abbey, but also the colorful wagon her family used to travel in and her life with her family. It made her wistful, but happy and sad all at once. To combat this feeling, she drank more cider, before asking a question of her own.
“What music do you like Jan?”
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Django
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Post by Django on Jun 30, 2017 20:58:35 GMT -5
Kay's confidence in her speech were even more apparent in the daylight hours. Jan smiled, resting his chin on one paw. He pulled a cup of cider towards him, nodding in agreement to everything she said. He liked this kind of relationship. Where other beasts said "one-sided," he would say "comfortable."
"But the one song I like that I don’t really dance to is A Traveler’s Life. ‘Cause it makes me think of home."
Because of the amount of children rescued from dangerous situations or deceased families, Jan wondered for a moment what she meant by "home." His home was Redwall, because he'd been less than a year old when he'd been brought here. Kay could mean somewhere entirely different, especially given the fact she mentioned a father, implying a family, who, as far as he knew, wasn't here at the abbey. He didn't say anything, just pondered it.
“What music do you like Jan?”
"Um," he used a drink of cider as a moment to think. Music. He enjoyed it. There probably wasn't a creature living that didn't favor one sort of music or another. But what did Django like? "I like the fiddle, too. The little piano the music teacher has is nice. I guess I like slow songs, ones that sound like easy summer days, or the way you feel when there's nothing that needs to be done."
He wasn't sure if Kay would understand that, but he had a feeling she would try to. Kids liked to understand new things, right? Poetry might not be her strong suit, though. That was alright. She could think he was strange for that.
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jul 1, 2017 7:59:26 GMT -5
Jan was smiling. That fact alone made Kay smile all the more, because it looked like a genuine smile. Not like some of the smiles she got from adults, where it seemed like they’d just bit into a lemon or something foul tasting, and were trying to look happy about it. Kay hoped that it stayed a real smile, and not one of those fake ones.
"I like the fiddle, too. The little piano the music teacher has is nice. I guess I like slow songs, ones that sound like easy summer days, or the way you feel when there's nothing that needs to be done."
“It is a nice piano,” Kay replied agreeably. She’d never seen anything like it before coming to the Abbey.
Kay closed her eyes to better picture it. Slow songs… like a brook maybe… Or maybe more like how the room looked when they’d first entered. The light shining through stained glass and pooling on the table, things quiet but not silent… What if there was nothing to do, no lessons or chores… A day where one could really just watch the light, and watch the breakfasters…
These were the things Kay pictured as she tried to understand what Jan meant by easy summer days. She hadn’t had one of those in a long while. Maybe during her silent days, when they’d let her sleep for longer than the other dibbuns ‘cause they thought she was hurt even though she hadn’t bled or gotten hit. But Kay didn’t like thinking of those days, and she didn’t think that was what Jan meant. Before that there was always traveling to be done, and after Kay had never wanted to sit still.
Slow songs meant slower tempo. Kay thought about the slower songs, specifically the ones that didn’t make her fidget with boredom. There as one that came to mind, if only because everyone else liked it. Her eyes opened up again, and she tilted her head inquisitively.
“Do you like Rose’s song?”
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Django
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Post by Django on Jul 1, 2017 20:34:05 GMT -5
"Do you like Rose’s song?”
Jan recalled the song in question. Laterose, the lover of the abbey's hero, had met such a terrible end. But according to legend, she sang beautifully. As all the pretty maids of old did. It had been a long time since he'd heard her lovely song, but he did remember it. After a moment, he nodded.
"That's a nice one," he said. "Sometimes makes me sad when I think about the story, though. It's a nice song to make you think about people you miss." He really only liked that song when a higher range voice sang it. He'd heard a baritone sing it once, and it hadn't sounded right. He took another thoughtful bite of scone.
"Do you like it?" he asked. This was probably the most conversation he'd had over breakfast since before his friends had left when he was 15. Even Sister Lyla was quiet in the morning now. Probably just age and her personality. Jan didn't mind, but he did like this change of pace. Kay seemed content to ramble on whether he answered right away or not.
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jul 1, 2017 22:09:28 GMT -5
It's a nice song to make you think about people you miss."
“It is,” Kay agreed amicably. It was a nice song for when you were feeling… what was that big word they just learned? Melancholy? She ate some more porridge, thinking wistfully about that. There were a lot of people she missed…
"Do you like it?"
“All the girls in my class like it,” Kay told Jan after she swallowed. “I think it’s alright, but it’s very slow an’ the lyrics seem strange. I think I like the story behind it more than I actually like the song, if tha’ makes sense. It’s so sweet an’ sad. Last time we heard it, Adeline cried, which made Lily cry, which made everyone else cry too. There was a lot of crying… I don’t know how they got everyone to stop though, ‘cause I kind of wandered away after I finished feeling sad for them.”
Kay had some more cider, thinking of what else she could ask her friend. After all, it would be rude to go on and on and never ask after what Jan was thinking. It took only a moment’s thought to come up with the perfect question to ask.
“Do you have any favorite stories?”
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Django
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Post by Django on Jul 2, 2017 20:24:58 GMT -5
Django remembered the girls from his peer group crying at the sad song, as well. He couldn't really blame them. Some of the boys had cried, too. Jan didn't like to cry, so he hadn't spent much of his life on tears. He chuckled when Kay mentioned she'd just left the music lesson when she wanted to. That was something he would never have done at her age. He had been too afraid of rules and authority. Now that he was grown, he did as he was asked, usually, but he spent so much time out of the way, he wondered how often he even crossed the minds of anyone he wasn't well acquainted with.
“Do you have any favorite stories?”
Jan had to think about that one. In fact, he made a show of it, stroking his chin as he stared up at the ceiling. No particular reason he did that, just he thought Kay might enjoy a little funny face.
"Uh, well, I really like the story of Mariel," he said finally. "She did things 'n said things I'd never be brave enough to. She was really strong, y'know." Sometimes he liked to imagine his mother was distantly related to Mariel. Made him feel better about her sad story. And by extension, made him feel better about himself. He had a name to live up to.
"I also like Mattimeo's story," he went on. "I like stories about mice. Maybe you can guess why." He chuckled again. "Makes me feel like I could be brave someday, too. What're your favorite stories?"
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jul 3, 2017 16:50:19 GMT -5
Kay giggled as Jan made a great show of thinking. It was always funny to see elaborate gestures like that made on anyone’s face. It made waiting less boring.
"Uh, well, I really like the story of Mariel. ….She did things 'n said things I'd never be brave enough to. She was really strong, y'know."
Kay nodded. Mariel was really strong and her story was a good one, full mystery and adventure. Just the sort of tale for young mice to hear. Plus it was so long it had to be told over multiple nights, and the Sisters promised that there was more of her story to tell, later as the dibbuns grew older.
I also like Mattimeo's story…. I like stories about mice. Maybe you can guess why."
“We mice make pretty good heroes,” Kay supplied happily. Glancing at Vig, she added. “Sorry Vig. ….Maybe we’ll be heroes an’ people will sing songs about us…”
"Makes me feel like I could be brave someday, too.”
Kay wasn’t sure what he meant by that. He seemed pretty brave to her. Hadn’t he offered to defend Kay against bad guys just last night? Not to mention he wandered around at night, which was something dibbuns wouldn’t dare to do and made even some adults nervous. Some beasts weren’t made for the dark, but Kay and Jan walked in it without fear. She frowned lightly for a moment. Jan was brave, even if he didn’t know it. Adults were just silly sometimes.
“…What're your favorite stories?"
The smile was instantly back on her face. She leaned back, imitating Jan’s previous show of thinking. Chin stroking included.
“Well, Vig here likes the story of Bryony an’ Veil,” she said after a moment. Remembering belatedly that the youngest dibbuns weren’t supposed to have heard that story yet, she was quick to justify why Vig would. “She learned about it durin’ her time at the library. I like the story of Rakkety Tam, ‘cause I think parts of it are funny. What I really liked hearing was stories about Rizo the Traveler, my great-great-gran’dad. My papa used to tell ‘em late at night. Him and Lady Luxa, who Rizo loved but could never marry. It’s got adventure, and it’s funny and a bit romant-romantiz- It’s got romance an’ magic too.”
It had been forever since she last talked about Rizo, or heard of him. Nobody in the abbey knew of him. Only travelers seemed to know about him, and in their world he was the great-great gran’dad of all of them. As she sipped her cider, she wondered if she should tell Jan more about him and make that point clear.
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Django
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Post by Django on Jul 3, 2017 20:44:33 GMT -5
Jan laughed quietly at Kay's imitation of him. He'd heard somewhere that children were parrots. They were copycats, too. He'd have to get used to that. Maybe he could excuse his repeating habit as something left over from childhood. Kay probably wouldn't mind. Hopefully.
"What I really liked hearing was stories about Rizo the Traveler, my great-great-gran’dad. My papa used to tell ‘em late at night..."
Jan was interested. Not that he hadn't been interested before, but an unfamiliar story was always interesting. He waited for Kay to finish, drinking the last of his cider. She seemed very excited about this story. Asking her more about it would definitely be the good thing to do.
"I don't have family stories," he said. "What'd Rizo do? Is he famous?"
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jul 3, 2017 21:20:39 GMT -5
"I don't have family stories…What'd Rizo do? Is he famous?"
What was a family story? Maybe it was a specific type of story. Kay filed it away to ask about another day. Instead she finished her scone. After all, Rizo was important and deserved full attention. Or something like that: Kay had forgotten exactly how Papa had opened up his stories.
“Rizo was a traveler,” Kay started. “He lived a long time ago, and he had two feet that wouldn’t stop moving. Even as a kid he’d wander past his family’s lands, and past his neighbors’ lands. They say that his feet were itchy. But only during the day: His parents never let him out after sun down, because an old witch said that if they did he’d leave an’ never come back. But o’ course, one day Rizo got out after the sun went down. There are a couple stories on how, an’ Papa always said it was up to you to figure out the version you prefer. I like the one where he climbed out his window, ‘cause he saw a shooting star an’ wanted to find it. Mama liked it too. On the first night out though, he saw Lady Luxa an’ he follows her for a long time. He even meets her a couple times. The only thing is Lady Luxa only comes out on certain nights, an’ never during the day. Rizo didn’ know that when he started following her.”
Kay paused for breath at this point. It was sad that she couldn’t tell the story as good as Papa. Hopefully she wouldn’t forget, but even if she did she knew she’d hear Rizo stories again. All travelers knew the stories: They just had to.
“Anyways,” Kay continued, pulling her thoughts out of the gloom. “There are a lot of stories about his adventures. He gets in trouble in some, but sometimes he’s the hero. A lot of traveler’s tell stories about him, ‘cause he’s a pate-prate- he’s is important to travelers and they say he gives out blessin’s on long trips.”
Papa had also cursed using Rizo’s name, which earned him a number of swats from Mama. The memory made Kay smile.
“Have you ever been on a long trip before Jan?”
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Django
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Post by Django on Jul 4, 2017 20:13:03 GMT -5
Not only was her great-great-grandfather a famous traveler, he was a patron saint of traveling. Boy, Kay had some history. Jan didn't even know his father's name. Not that he wanted to, but he just didn't. Kay had lots of memories of her family, including this story.
“Have you ever been on a long trip before Jan?”
The question seemed only related by tangent, but he was beginning to learn that was how kids spoke. Tangents happened, and kids liked to follow them. Django just shrugged.
"Apparently I was, once," he said. "My mum had me out in this old barn in Mossflower, and the Guosim brought her 'n me all the way to Redwall. 'Course I don't remember any of it. Sister Lyla tol' me. Haven't left the abbey since." He held the edge of his seat and leaned back, drumming his fingers on the underside of the bench.
"You been on trips afore, huh?" he asked. Traveling seemed important to her, even if it was only because of this story. But he knew she hadn't been born at the abbey, so what had her life been life before this?
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jul 5, 2017 14:29:34 GMT -5
"Apparently I was, once…"
Kay listened to Jan’s story attentively. It was short, but Kay thought that that was just because Jan wasn’t very talkative. There were a whole lot of questions she wanted to ask him after he was finished: Why was his mother in a barn? Where was his father? Why did the Guosim bring them to Redwall? Why had Jan never left?
Before she could ask any of the questions buzzing around in her head, Jan asked one first.
"You been on trips afore, huh?"
“I was born in my family’s wagon,” Kay told him. “Just like all my brothers an’ sister. We were born travelers, like my Mama an’ Papa. Mama and Papa liked to travel, and spent most of their lives on the road. They said they had itchy feet. I have itchy feet too, only it’s not safe yet for me to go travelin’ ‘cause I’m only eleven. That’s what the sisters say, an’ I think Mama an’ Papa would agree.”
Her eyes drifted down to her plate, and she played with the food on her plate for a moment. Where would she go if she was on the road again? The world was a big place. Papa and Mama used to have a plan for where to go, but Kay didn’t have anything like that. She didn’t even have a wagon. Where would she go…?
“I wanna go to the Crossroads up North past Noonvale. That’s where Papa an’ Mama an’ Liana an’ Alphonse are.” Kay declared suddenly, stopping her food play. She looked up at Jan, voice and expression firm. “When I get older, an’ stronger, I’ll travel there an’ pay my respects. Grown-ups can go where they like after all. An’ then maybe I’ll find Brutus…”
Her elder brother… did she really want to find him? He hadn’t returned that night, had left her all alone in the dark back when the dark was scary. Maybe he was already with Mama and Papa and the others. Maybe Kay was the last of the Morivans. Well, that depressing thought required more questions about Jan.
“..If you could pick anywhere in the world, where would you go an’ who would you find there?”
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Django
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Post by Django on Jul 5, 2017 23:32:33 GMT -5
Jan didn't know he'd already unlocked Kay's past, but he supposed these were the only memories she had. She only had eleven years' worth. Plus, she wasn't the type to keep secrets. He could tell it wasn't in her nature. He was honored she felt comfortable enough around him to share all this.
“I wanna go to the Crossroads up North past Noonvale. That’s where Papa an’ Mama an’ Liana an’ Alphonse are. When I get older, an’ stronger, I’ll travel there an’ pay my respects. Grown-ups can go where they like after all. An’ then maybe I’ll find Brutus…”
Jan blinked several times. Oh. So that's what had happened to her. Family dead and buried. Had she witnessed it? Jan's ears fell with the realization. She'd been old enough to remember losing her family. No wonder she suffered nightmares. And searched for safety. And made plans. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.
“..If you could pick anywhere in the world, where would you go an’ who would you find there?”
"Anywhere..." he said quietly. Anywhere at all. He had everything here. He didn't think about leaving very often. He wasn't brave or plagued with itchy feet like Kay was. So it was a tough question to answer.
"Maybe up North" he said finally. "That's where Mum was born. I think my gran'folks are there. An' my dad. I guess." He still didn't know whether his mother had run away from his father. He didn't want to think about it too hard.
"Or, I could go with you to, um, the Crossroads," he offered weakly. Don't let her think she's alone. That's what's important. "By the time you're strong enough, I definitely will be. We could go together."
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jul 6, 2017 19:49:32 GMT -5
Kay realized what that look was, when Jan’s ears fell and his eyes grew wise. That was the look of pity. She’d seen it on everyone’s face when they heard her talk about her family. The Sisters had worn it near constant during her quiet period. Some beasts didn’t even need to hear her full story to get that look on their face: They just had to hear she was a dibbun at the Abbey. So many dibbuns were orphans and had their fair share of tragic pasts. Sometimes it seemed that this place was overflowing in sorrows…
But something about seeing pity on people’s faces made Kay’s stomach get all twisted. It made it harder to think of her family and not feel sad at what she’d lost. Yet, she liked Jan and didn’t think he meant anything bad by it. After all, it was a pretty sad tale…
Maybe up North… That's where Mum was born. I think my gran'folks are there. An' my dad. I guess."
That was an odd way to talk about one’s papa. And grandparents too. Though, Kay didn’t know where her grandparents were either. She’d never met them before, so they hadn’t really crossed her mind. Yet, the way he talked about his papa…
"Or, I could go with you to, um, the Crossroads… By the time you're strong enough, I definitely will be. We could go together."
“That would be nice,” Kay agreed. She wasn’t sure if Jan was the traveling type…. But she could help him, if he really wanted to go with. After all, anyone could become a traveler. “We could take one of the trails that go through the North, an’ see your kin while we’re seein’ mine…”
For a moment she sat back, thinking over all she’d heard and said. There was still something bugging her, that wouldn’t rest in her mind,
“Hey Jan,” Kay asked, looking up at Jan shyly. Adults didn’t like it when you nosed around in their business, but Kay was too curious for her own good. “Where are your parents?”
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