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Messages - Ashleg

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Suggestions and Concerns / Re: Questions and Answers
« on: April 15, 2017, 03:49:03 AM »
When I click on any member including myself I get a database error.
Might want to look into that, @James Gryphon .

Roleplaying / Re: Downtown
« on: April 15, 2017, 03:46:36 AM »

Didn't Bracklew want to...practice sword fighting?
"Oh, we won't do anythin' silly," growled the mother.
Terrin grinned an evil, childlike grin.

Yowling, Roscoe waved them off.
"Get on, go! Back inta' the bushes! Imbiciles!"
He turned around, puffing under his breath.
"What was it? Yer crossin' their lines, Rayne--Grant. Be careful."

"I think the last time I was outside was the fight," Rapshade said, more to himself than anybeast else. Was this the same lawn? Creatures died here? Time really did heal all wounds.
The ferret swiped at his ear self consciously.
"I forgot how it felt, to be honest. Thanks, thank you--Bracklew, did I thank you?"
The answer was yes. He squirmed and clutched his arm closer to him.


"Look who's back," Terrin whispered, nudging his mother.
They grinned fiendishly and began silently advancing when Roscoe suddenly raced out from behind to greet the mice, stopping them in their tracks.
"Darn it!"

The red-cloaked weasel took a bow.
"Abbot an' Raincloud, back fer more! You can't get enough of me, huh." He flashed his teeth. "I'm just that handsome!"

"Okay, see you at home, I guess!" Maxy called, continuing down the lake.
He lashed his bushy tail.
"If you even decide to come home...for all I know, you're going to run down to RiverBlue and form a second Vigil."

The squirrel frowned deeply.
If there was one thing he did know about their past, it was that the Vigil was a group of animals who policed the forest--to Redwall's disapproval.

Maxy frowned and rolled his eyes.
"That mead is getting to your head."

As they walked, he couldn't help but hear what Stumbly said over again in his mind. It bugged him and grated on his nerves. Why should somebeast whom is barely older than him be able to act like they knew everything in the world?
"Because," he said through gritted teeth, "They don't know who we are."

"Unless time has changed him, I don't think Roscoe would lead us anywhere dangerous," Grant said. Thoughts lingered in the back of his mind and he wondered what Rayne was feeling. "At most he might force us to take the long way. Roscoe is a troublemaker, but I don't think he's evil."
Right? the old mouse's mind echoed.
Last time they met, Roscoe didn't have a group, or a son, or a mandolin. And he was unable to successfully kidnap anybeast.
"We will just have to trust him."


Rapshade had frozen for a fleeting second as they walked and Bracklew began his lament about fur. The black ferret shivered and folded his paws against his chest.
Did the squirrel know something?
His fur had been falling out and not growing back since his young days. Only his long pirate overcoat, however ratty, kept him looking normal.

"I thought they were inside," Rapshade murmured, sniffing the air.
How odd it was that this place felt foreign to him. Wind felt especially odd. He missed it.

"What?" the Abbot panted, glancing behind him with a groan.
He squeaked, "Aaagghhhh. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
Now they would have to trudge back to the vermin group and ask for directions, and it would be uncomfortable because they had just supposedly fled in fear.
Grant ran a paw down his face, to the end of his snout.
"Well, then. I'm getting loony in my old age. Yes, directions will be helpful. Let's go back."


"Aa-y-yes, outside, thanks, that will be great." said Rapshade in a flustered jumble.
He inhaled and bit a claw. Calm down.
"I don't remember t' last time I was outside. So thank you, thanks, thank y'--you. Um, Bracklew."

"That's right," Grant said.
Roscoe's purple eyes widened sadly. He nudged the Abbot in the ribs and put on another grin a few seconds after. "Invite me fer dinner, then, eh?"

"Maybe," said Grant awkwardly.
He motioned to Rayne with a discreet tail flick.
"Now we really must be going. Good luck, Roscoe, but maybe try being a little less...disruptive?"
By that he meant to stop kidnapping creatures.
Before the vermin had a chance to keep them any longer, the Abbot grabbed Rayne's sleeve and broke into a run.


Rapshade flinched.
"Did y' w-want me t' taste it?" he asked meekly, rubbing his paws together. Still no eye contact. He rarely ever looked up nowadays.
"My error."

General Discussion / Re: "Special" Editions
« on: April 12, 2017, 02:19:11 AM »
Oh. That guy.
Huh. Maybe that would work, but then again not really what I was talking about...

I guess you'll never know lest you've read Warriors.

General Discussion / Re: "Special" Editions
« on: April 12, 2017, 02:06:13 AM »
I guess I second that.

General Discussion / Re: "Special" Editions
« on: April 12, 2017, 01:56:15 AM »
Mortspear was who, again?

Thirteen exactly.
Glares at Roscoe.
"Not really..." Maxy scratched his head.
"But I never really listen in on what the adults are saying unless it concerns me."
Shrugging, the white squirrel hopped atop a tree trunk.
"Why worry about it? They aren't bothering us, we were just in their land."


Roscoe whimpered.
"You're sayin' bye so soon? But you haven't even met my son!"
The weasel caught the fleeting young one by the ear and yanked him back over.
"This's Grant an' Rayne. Say 'hi', Terrin."

"Hi, Terrin," the younger weasel sneered, and he stomped on Roscoe's footpaw and ran off before his father could do anything.
Roscoe shrieked as he hopped up and down, howling. "Oooohhhh, I hate him!"


Rapshade watched Bracklew fidgetingly and when it dawned on him that the squirrel wasn't going anywhere he spun on his paws and ate with his back to him.
Leaving the porridge half-finished, he fled to the sink and deposited the dish.
"Was I quick enough?" The ferret asked quietly, skidding to a halt in front of Bracklew like an attentive soldier...or a Dibbun trying too hard to please. It was surely up to debate.

Suggestions and Concerns / Re: (not) Just another petition
« on: April 12, 2017, 12:27:56 AM »
Is there an "I am indifferent" option? :/

Roscoe laughed airily and pulled Terrin closer to him, ruffling his head fur.
"Would it? Wouldn't it?" He pushed his son away and leaned forward at Rayne with a condescending grin.
"Maybe. Hey, did you hear me playing that mandolin? I'm great, aren't I?"

Grant coughed into his sleeve.
"I wonder how many poor creatures died at his paws."


Well, how could he argue with that?
Rapshade chuckled quietly as he let himself be led by the squirrel.
"I'm grateful," the ferret commented. Bracklew was better than Duncan.

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