The Logalog, the Prince, and the Bat [Jan]

[Tirael]

Rain. It was necessary, the life-giving shower from heaven that brought crops from the earth and gave all creatures a respite from the harsh sun. Droplets spattered off of leaves, pooled in the underbrush, or plopped into the River Moss. Against the great, ancient stones of Redwall Abbey, however, their assault was fruitless. The enormous structure was as protected against weather as it was against invaders, its sandstone walls and sloping roofs sheltering its inhabitants from the inclement weather raging outside their windows. In their home, they could enjoy roaring fires, hot beverages, and all the comforts of home.

None of this, of course, was much comfort to a squirrel caught out in the woods. Brush had been making his way through Mossflower when he felt the first drop of rain hit his head; within minutes, it had become a downpour. The squirrel prince had been forced to pull up the hood of his cloak and immediately begin casting about for shelter. It was fortunate that he'd been walking along the lower edge of a long ridge, for it didn't take terribly long before he'd found the mouth of a cave. Caves were risky--one could easily serve as the home of a serpent--but he'd stay on guard, and at any rate, he'd be dry.

Once he made it into the relative shelter of the cave mouth, Brush sighed and pulled off his cloak. Shaking out some of the excess rainwater, he laid the garment over a large boulder to dry, then began setting up a campfire. It took a fair amount of time, considering most of the nearby wood was nearly soaked, but he eventually scavenged enough to at least get a small fire going. Its golden warmth was an effective tonic against the gray, miserable weather, giving some small comfort to the lone squirrel. He sat by the flames for ten minutes or so, its heat chasing away the cold and starting to dry his damp clothes and fur. Although he appreciated the sensation, however, his eyes were locked on the inside of the cave--and his paw rested on his bow.

He refused to be caught unawares.

After some time, Brush decided he had to make sure this cave was safe. He wouldn't be able to properly rest until he knew; and besides, he had nothing better to do. Taking an arrow from his quiver, he nocked it on his bow, which he kept pointed down as he began to walk slowly into the cave. His eyes darted about as he crept forward, watching for any sign of movement or threat. He did not call out to ask if anyone was there, and took care to make his pawsteps as quiet as possible. After all, he preferred that if somebeast should have the element of surprise, it would be him.

[Django]

It was the rain that had awoken Oleander, and the appearance of another beast that had kept her awake. She'd been polite enough to the bat colony that currently occupied this cave, but since it was still daylight, they were asleep deep within the quieter recesses, like normal beasts at this time. So technically she hadn't really needed her manners. She slept well away from them, though, because she knew unfamiliar smells were almost as bad as loud noises when one was sleeping. 

A blurry brown poof had set up a fire. Something on him was sparkly, and Oleander was immediately interested in it. He seemed grumpy when he came in, probably because of the rain, not to mention the hour. She was also grumpy if she had to be awake during the day. She didn't know how some creatures did it. But now that she was awake, she might as well see what was up. She could sense it would be almost sunset soon. At least the cave was cozy and dim.

The sparkly beast put a pointy stick against a bendy stick and started walking around. Weird. Oleander watched him until he was directly beneath her, then squeaked at him. The echoes revealed he was not a poof, but a squirrel with a poof. The sparkly might be buttons, or something.

"Hi, skirl!" Oleander said, ears twitching. 

[Tirael]

The flickering light of the fire extended a fair way into the cave, but of course, it could only do so much. It may have been easier had Brush been carrying a torch, but then, you couldn't exactly hold a light source when both your paws were occupied holding a bow and arrow. This was, the squirrel supposed, why he'd been so strongly advised to travel with a companion; everyone in Southsward had been quite insistent about it. But Brush had demurred, arguing that it would be unfair of him to expect any of his subjects to leave the kingdom with him for what could be years, robbing them of time they could be spending with friends or family. It was, he had reasoned, his decision to make this journey, and should be only his burden.

Besides, he much preferred not to have anyone around to introduce him as "Crown Prince Brush of the Kingdom of Southsward" whenever he happened across a stranger in the woods. It made for awkward conversation.

In this moment, though, Brush would certainly have welcomed a companion, if only to have someone there to hold the torch and watch his back. He might have been acting paranoid, but as one of the Otter Guard had once told him, "Paranoia's when you imagine someone wants to kill you. If someone actually wants to kill you, that's just preparedness." So it was in a spirit of either paranoia or preparedness that Brush was delving deeper into this cave.

"Hi, skirl!"

So much for paranoia.

Whirling to face the source of the noise, Brush immediately raised his bow and pulled back on the string. It took his eyes a moment to adjust well enough to see what he was aiming at: a bat. The squirrel had never seen a bat before, although he had been told of their existence by his tutor years before. He'd also been told that they were almost universally friendly, so he quickly lowered his weapon and relaxed the tension on the bowstring. "Er...hello," he answered, sounding somewhat bemused by the odd creature. "I, uh, I hope I'm not intruding in your..." He glanced about the cave for a moment as he looked for the right word. "...home. I just wanted to wait out the rain."

[Django]

"Er...hello. I, uh, I hope I'm not intruding in your...home. I just wanted to wait out the rain."

Oleander squeaked at him again, getting a clearer image. She felt it was a little rude of him to have pointed his sharp stick at her, but since this wasn't her home, she didn't say anything about it. She fluttered her wings, which were wrapped about her, tilting her head this way and that to catch the echoes.

"No, not my home," she said. "Jus' nap place for now. Rain is wet."

Okay, she was too far up. Keeping conversation while craning her neck like this was painful. At least other bats had the sense to be on the ceiling at eye level. The nerve of some creatures. Oleander opened her big wings, let go of the cave ceiling, and flapped ungracefully down to the floor. Here, she almost made it to the squirrel's waist when holding herself up on her forearms. 

With a mighty flourish of her wings, she stood on her back feet and said, "I am the great Oleander!" then she dropped back to all fours, baring/smiling her pure white fangs at him. 

[Tirael]

Now that he could focus his gaze on one spot, it was becoming a bit easier for Brush to make out details on his odd new acquaintance. Descriptions of bats, however thorough they had been, could not come close to capturing just how alien her appearance was: leathery wings, deep dark eyes, and keen ears making it clear that the creature wasn't just a funny-looking mouse. Really, had her voice and demeanor not been so disarmingly benign, the bat might have been intimidating, or even frightening. Instead, she was more baffling and curious than anything.

"No, not my home. Jus' nap place for now. Rain is wet."

"...yes, I suppose it is, isn't it," Brush answered uncertainly. It was obvious that small talk wasn't the bat's strong suit. Then again, who was to say that his would've been any better had he not been raised in a royal setting? Part of being royalty was learning how to always know what to say, after all; a good ruler had to be equally at home in the court or dining room as he was on the battlefield. That said, the former seemed to be the harder goal for Brush to grasp, something which was clearly evidenced by his failure to answer the bat's comment with more than a useless affirmation.

Concerns about conversation momentarily were overridden by surprise as the bat spread her wings and fluttered down to the ground directly before Brush. The squirrel took a step back, his grip tightening on his bow as he resisted the urge to lift the weapon again. It didn't take long for him to relax, though, especially as it became clear that size and brawn were on his side, were this to somehow become a brawl. Except when briefly standing on her hind legs, the bat was only half Brush's height, and didn't appear to have much body mass. Her fangs did catch the squirrel prince's eye as they gleamed in the light of the fire, but as they were only exposed in a smile, they didn't concern him too much.

"I am the great Oleander!"

It was a rather more bombastic introduction than Brush had expected. He almost laughed, finding the notion of anybeast other than a charlatan or a magician declaring themselves to be 'the great' anything. Deciding one florid declaration deserved another, he spread his paws and dipped his head in a fluid bow. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Oleander. I am Brush of Southsward, at your service." His voice, despite its formal tone, was tinged with the squirrel's clear amusement. These sorts of grandiose introductions were rarely made in caves.

[Django]

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Oleander. I am Brush of Southsward, at your service."

Service? Service. "Surviss," Oleander said. New word. Also, "Sowf sord," and "Brush. Brush, brush." The bat made deliberate efforts on each word. She paced around the squirrel, sniffing, clicking, trying to commit the nice poof to memory. Sniffs and clicks weren't enough. 

Oleander stood back on her haunches (or, what haunches she had), lifted her wings again, and reached for Brush's chest and face. Her little thumb claws clinked against his silver buttons, got caught in his jerkin's threads. She fussed in irritation when her leathery fingers didn't quite reach his head.

"Wanna see your face," she insisted, hooking the tips of her wings on his shoulders. "Let me seeeeeee!" Her whine was comparable to any child being withheld a toy or interesting object. For, really, that's what she was. A curious child. "Come down here, I wanna see."

[Tirael]

"Surviss."

"That's right," Brush said as he straightened up from his bow. The Great Oleander seemed to grow less threatening with each passing second, her alien features no longer setting the fur on the back of his neck on edge. Really, it was a little embarrassing to admit he'd been ready to put an arrow in her just a couple minutes beforehand; it certainly wouldn't have been a proud moment in anyone's life, much less his own.

"Sowf sord."

"That's...less right," the squirrel remarked hesitantly. "It's Souths-sward," he corrected, enunciating carefully to--

"Brush. Brush, brush."

Okay, so she was just having fun repeating what he'd said. Brush sighed slightly, resigning himself to the fact that his correction would likely have no effect on the bat: she had moved on from the word 'Southsward' and was now contenting herself with his own, easier-to-pronounce name. He stuck his arrow back in its quiver and shouldered his bow, chuckling lightly in amusement as the bat relished repeating his name. "Oleander, Oleander," he murmured in response, noting that repeating her name was actually a bit fun as well. Maybe she was a bad influence on him.

He tensed slightly as the bat suddenly moved forward, her spindly fingers groping their way up his torso and getting caught in the fabric of his clothes. This was no longer out of defensiveness, but mere awkwardness. Creatures didn't normally go randomly laying their paws on other creatures, and certainly didn't tend to take those kinds of liberties with royalty. Were Brush more enamored of his title, he might be offended; as it was, he just felt uncomfortable, and cleared his throat mostly because he couldn't think of anything to say. Well, you wanted to get away from all the royal protocol, he thought ruefully to himself. This is about as far away from it as you can get.

"Wanna see your face. Let me seeeeeee! Come down here, I wanna see."

Glancing around awkwardly as though checking if anyone happened to be watching, Brush acquiesced and stooped down. "I take it you haven't met many squirrels?" he asked dryly, his voluminous tail flicking lightly behind him. "I suppose it's fair, I haven't met many bats. Or, well, any, for that matter. You're the first." And what a first impression it was turning out to be.

[Django]

"I take it you haven't met many squirrels? I suppose it's fair, I haven't met many bats. Or, well, any, for that matter. You're the first."

"Only two skirls," Oleander said. "Daisy, bruvver, an' you. Three skirls."

Satisfied with her inspection of Brush's face, the little bat lowered her wings, grinning. Now she had a good look at him. She didn't know anything about aesthetics to make a judgement on how handsome he may or may not have been. She certainly didn't know squirrel culture enough to make a judgement like that. All she knew was that she liked him now because he had been nice enough to let her feel and see his face.

She liked squirrels. Ever since Daisy and her brother had gotten rid of Oleander the fox for her, Oleander the bat had considered all squirrels good. Brush seemed to be living up to that expectation, too. Such a nice color, and knew his manners well. Oldeander didn't know manners. She'd wandered off before Daisy had finished teaching them.

"Menny bats," she repeated. "Menny bats in the cave. They s'eeping now." She held a spindly finger to her snout, copying something she'd seen someone do once. "Shh!" Then, she let out a series of bubbly clicks. Her bat laugh. It wasn't quiet at all. She was just being silly. As she was prone to do.

"Why's Brush in the rain?" she asked, settling back against a stalagmite. She didn't really know the words "travel" or "journey" or "wandering," and past tense verbs were still a bit new to her. So she was basically asking where he was from and what he was doing, in the best way she could.