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John and Sara, squirrels

The late winter sunlight comes weakly down through the cloud layer with unfortunately still enough light to reflect off the snow and into John's eyes. He stands atop atop the wall of the abbey overlooking the road, thankful for the general desertion the snow has caused. It was quiet.

Up the road from the south comes a figure, at first just a dark dot against the snowy background, but before long resolving into a somewhat shabby looking squirrelmaid. She walks at a tired and footsore trudge, and from the way she occasionally glances wearily around herself it seems she's not familiar with her surroundings. But as she nears the abbey it's those tall walls her eyes are fixed on, and she pauses to squint up at the ramparts.

John isn't exactly doing much to hide his presence, and his head at least can be seen framed against the sky above the ramparts.

"Hullo!" He calls down, having spotted the other squirrel. "Th'gates a wee bit more up, if that's what ye're aiming fore!"

Saro's single visible ear perks up noticeably at the words from above, and she gives a hasty nod and a wave. "I'll be comin' up that way, then! Thank you, good sir!" With that, she gets the hustle on, evidently having caught a second wind!

Saro charts a brisk course for the gates, looking willing to move her weary feet a little faster with respite in sight. She also pulls herself up a bit straighter and puts a little bit of a jaunty swing into her tail, as if to make a better entrance.

Not immediately moving as the squirrel maid moves up the road, John disappears behind the walls eventually. There's some time before the gates are open - some sort of disagreement maybe - but the sound of the various locks being undone are unmistakable.

Saro stares at the gate hard enough that one might think she expected it to open from the force of her gaze alone, and then looks somewhat relieved when the noise of the locks makes clear that it really is going to be unbolted for her. Dusting herself off, she puts on a smile that would be disarming if it weren't so tired.

The right gate slowly creaks open - the squirrel, John, had to rope one of the abbey novices (....who may or may not also had access to the keys...) into help push the door open. "Sorry 'bout th'wait, no' many are up and about today, there aren't." He grunts, brushing his paws off and offering one to shake. "And Ah'm no' thae usual welcoming part, neither. Ah'm John MacGarran, by th'by. Ye are...?"

"Good day and fair weather to you, friends!" The squirrel's greeting is given in a strong voice, to John and the hapless novice and whoever else might be around to hear, with an accompanying bow before she puts out her paw to return the shake. "Saro Stormbreeze, seeking entrance to your fine.." She ponders a moment. "..Abbey?" she finishes questioningly. "Er, is this Redwall?"

"Aye, that it is." John nods. "Abbey of Redwall, though Ah'm no' one of its members, truth b'told. Th'mouse here is, though," he adds as an after thought, waving a paw to the afore mentioned novice (who looks like they're focused on much rather being inside and out of the cold than standing in the gateway).

"Suppose Ah should've asked already, but where d'ye come from? Southwards?"

Saro nods back to John, confirming, "Aye, southwards... a long way southwards." The remembrance of the journey seems to sap some of her renewed energy from her, and her tail loses some of its jauntiness again. With a wry and tired smile she adds, "So long as you've the authority to have the gates opened to let a weary traveler in from the cold, I'd not care if you were a scurvy scullery rat."

It's clear her way into the abbey isn't going to barred by any beast now, and John raises a brow. "Authority might b'stretching th'truth a wee bit, but order likes tae invite beasts in regardless of me being there ore no'." He points back to the main building. "Ah suppose ye'll b'wanting t'go inside and warm up, nae doubt. Ah'm certain th'good novice here'll help scrounge up a warm meal from th'kitchens, if ye want it."

"I'd be most grateful, friend John." Saro indeed sounds grateful, and she touches her beret respectfully. "I haven't got much to offer in return - some music on the flute, mayhaps, a song or two - but believe me, the hospitality is appreciated." Moving closer to the entrance as John points back at the abbey proper, she asks with a smile, "Might it be too much to ask for your company as my guide to this place?"

There's a moment or so where John glances back up to the walls, his face scrunching a bit - he really did like the peace and quiet - but it soon morphs into friendlier expression. "Alright, then. Ah did spend plenty of time 'round here in mah youth, so Ah'm no' likely t'get ye lost - fore th'most part," he adds with a wry grin, already moving through the yard. "Th' big building's mostly th'Great Hall, more ore less th'center of thae Abbey - dorms, kitchens, and th'like are all connected, they are."

Saro catches John's glance up to the walls, and it's possible she even realizes something of the sentiment behind it, but even so she doesn't seem inclined to let her "guide" escape straightaway. Instead she falls in with him as he makes his way across the yard, seeming almost relieved to have someone else to walk with for a bit. She nods attentively to his description of the Abbey, asking, "Are you from this area originally? If not the abbey, then the woods around it?"

"Neither," John replies, "From up by th'north-east sea, near enough t'that port city Collinsel." The 'guide' slowly makes his way up the steps to the Great Hall's doors. "Ah should mention both thae abbot and friar here are squirrels as well, and that ye're no' th'first one thae abbey's had come here this winter. Ah'm only recently returned mahself, and th'day afore that a white furred squirrel came here, ore so Ah've been told." Opening the door just enough to be able to go inside, he does so while trying his best to not let too much of the frigid air inside.

"Collinsel, eh?" Saro follows John up the steps, not without several more glances around at the snowy grounds. "Don't think I've heard tell of it, but then the northeast sea is leagues off from anything I'd know." After giving her footpaws a few conscientious stamps on the top step to knock the snow free, she slips sideways through the narrowly opened door, pausing just across the threshold either to take in the sight or simply to savor being out of the wind and weather. "And a white-furred squirrel, too?" she asks, tilting her head quizzically. "Not anyone I met on the road - I'd've recalled that, for certain sure."

"Nae doubt," John nods rubbing his paws together. The Great Hall is nearly empty with the fire in the hearth burning low. "Th'kitchen'll have food, though th'good friar's no' one t'take idle paws with th'most friendly of attitudes, he's no'." He points to the seven stairs leading down across the hall. "Down there's Carvern Hole, th'main place th'order likes t' take meals - th'stairs leading up." He gestures to the other side, "leads tae place like th'infirm, dorms, and guest rooms and th'like."

Saro shivers as they near the fire, as if shaking off the cold now that they're near a source of marked warmth. She listens with particular attentiveness to the mention of the kitchen, and proclaims stoutly, "I'll chop vegetables and scrub pots for a few bites to eat, and not give your friar a moment's offense!" Her eyes catch on the tapestry of Martin the Warrior as they near it, and she stops to tilt her head at it wonderingly. She starts to say something, but then looks back at John and appears to decide against pestering the poor squirrel with more questions.

"Ha, well, as long as ye know what ye're doing," John laughs again, "Lacota's th'friar, and he shouldn't give much trouble. So then, is there anything ye'd b'curious about?"

That opening from John is clearly too much! Saro hesitates one solitary instant before flicking her tail towards the tapestry and asking with great curiosity, "Who's that there, then! He looks like some kind of real hero. Was he from the abbey? Are there songs about him?"

John blinks. Stopping for the first in seasons to examine the tapestry, he tilts his head to one side. "...Martin's th'mouse, Ah think. Th'founder ore champion, though Ah'm no' sure which tae b'frank. There are certain tae b'songs as well, though if ye're looking fore anything recorded Ah'd suggest th'library, over yonder -" he gestures to the door leading off. "There's plenty tae b'found in th' section with all th'poems, but Ah've rarely gone t'that part of th'room."

Saro's left ear quivers ecstatically - libraries! poems! - and she gives John a few eager nods. "I'll be sure to go take a look at your library - if that's all right with your, er, librarian." She gazes at the tapestry with inquiring admiration for a little longer. "He looks like a champion, for certain sure," she opines. Then she grins a little sheepishly. "But that can wait for later. For now.. if it really is all right.. I think I could use a bit of rest."

"Alright then," John nods slowly, "Ah suppose Ah should be getting back t'th' walls, tae. Just talk tae one of th'novices ye see ore order members, and Ah'm sure they'll get ye settled in the guest rooms, Ah am." The squirrel walks over to the fire and crouches down to prod life back into it. "Welcome t'Redwall and Mosslfower, by th'by."

Saro doesn't quite suppress the hint of a rueful grin as John mentions the peaceful walls she took him away from, and she tells him with a mix of apology and gratitude, "Thank you for taking the time to show me around, friend John. It's been a long while since I had a bit of friendly conversation, and the welcome is much appreciated. Stay warm out there." She smiles again, tilts her head amiably, and makes a quick beeline for the kitchens.

Abbot Benar, John MacGarran, and Friar Lacota, squirrels

It is snowing, a late Winter snow-storm flurrying around outside, Benar is stood in the open doors to the great hall watching a group of novices bring fire-wood inside. He smiles at them, "Nearly done everyone, this is the last lot then we can all get toasty in Cavern Hole."

One of the beasts bearing wood happens to be the young squirrel Spruce, who blows a bit of snow off their snout. When the abbot says this is the last bit of work he visibly brightens. "Really?"

A place by the fire is already taken. John sits on a stool wrapped up in his old cloak, scooting closer to the fireplace when the doors are opened and the cold wind blows in.

Benar says, "Indeed, this is the last lot and the fuel bunkers inside will be full," he directs the novices to the stairs, "That lot to the kitchen, those one to Cavern Hole and that basket over near the main fire here.""

Spruce nods enthusiastically, leading the charge down to Cavern Hole. Nearly free!

John watches impassively as a novice places the basket by the hearth, raising a brow with a glance to Benar. "Keeping busy, eh? Cannae say Ah've got th'same tolerance fore cold as ye lot."

Benar pushes the main doors shut firmly and then walks over to the fire, "You may not be able to tolerate the cold John, but I am sure I can find something for your idle paws to do if you are bored."

Throwing up his paws in a mock gesture, John laughs. "Don' ye worry about me being bored! Last time someone said that line t'me were when Ah were barely out of dibbunhood here, it were. Though truth be told, Ah've been keeping myself occupied by thinking about such times, back long afore father Lorimis passed."

"Well, that was a good while ago, indeed," remarks Lacota as he comes down the stairs, carrying a tray with an empty teapot on it. "He was a good leader, though."

Benar says, "Lorimis is missed, he taught me a lot of what i know and how I run the abbey," the squirrel smiled and looked around the hall, "We should see about going down to Cavern hole however, it is warmer"

"And a wee more packed, nae doubt." John says even as he stands. "But Ah suppose that'll help t' warm things up. And Ah've always regretting having no' been here fore his funeral, truth be told. Were tae hot-headed at th'time t'pay attention and let t'many petty things get t'me..." The youngest squirrel of the three shake his head. "But that were a long time ago now, and Ah've learned better."

Lacota harrumps, and heads toward the kitchen, instead, to put his tray away where it belongs. "You were perfectly welcome to come," he says quietly. "Lorimis would have understood why you didn't, however. He was like that, always kind."

Benar says, "Life happens to us all John, we all react in our own ways," he starts toward the stairs, "But now you are here once more so come, lets enjoy some of the warmth downstairs.""

"Nae doubt, and Ah probably knew Ah were at th'time..." John shrugs in response to the friar, following the abbot down, "But it's in th'past now either way. And that Ah am, Benar! Ye coming, friar?"

Lacota hmms. "Well, I need to put this stuff away, but yes, I'll be down shortly..." He moves toward the kitchen, instead.

Benar moves on down the stairs, "I like to think I am doing an okay job as Abbot, it certainly involves more paperwork then I was expecting."

"Well, th'abbey's never been captured in yore time," John says with a surprising brightness and a wink, "So Ah'd say ye're doing well enough. Less Ah missed something major, o'course."

Down in Cavern Hole Spruce sat with several other novices warming themselves by the fireplace.

Lacota comes back out of the kitchen eventually, carrying a new tray of tea and strawberry scones. "Here we go."

Spruce looks up as the friar enters, still warming his paws by the fire. John stood by the table the tray's (presumably) being carried to. "So, Lacota, how have things been 'round here lately?"

Lacota sets the tray down. "Well, the usual, mostly," he replies, as he starts to pour two cups of tea. "I'm getting tired of the bone-chilling cold weather, though. Spring cannot come fast enough for my tastes."

John nods. "Can't really argue there." Leaning on the table he cocks his head to one side. "Say, those novices right there-" he gestures to the group of beasts around the fire, "How new are they would ye say?"

Lacota glances over to the gaggle of youngsters: a squirrel, two mice, a vole and a young dormouse. "Pretty new. They just took their vows this past autumn. Why do you ask?"

John shakes his head. "They seem t'get younger and younger each season..." He mutters more to himself than the friar, falling quiet afterwards. When he speaks again, he's careful to keep his voice low as he looks at Lacota. "More orphans? Ore...?"

"The mice and the vole," Lacota answers. "The mice are twins, their mother came here some seasons back, emaciated and dying of an illness Angela was unfortunately able to treat. She entrusted them to our care." His voice is likewise low. "The vole was from a camp in Mossflower that got attacked by roving bandits. Terrible story. The others have parents who are also in the order."

"Ahh. A shame, it were." John nods, slowly. "And then there's that last squirrel-lad, there-" he gestures, "...Spruce, weren't he?"

Lacota nods. "He was a bit of a troublemaker when he was younger. He's matured quite a bit, however."

"Considering most youths 'round here -" John says with a wry smile, "Including when both me and ye could be called such, nae doubt, mah good friar-squirrel, troublemaker's th' standard badge of growing up at Redwall, nae?"

"Seasons," John adds after a moment, with a laugh "If ye could but witness when mahself an' th'lass Trillis were stomping 'round here at that age, ye'd throw us out on th' spot."

Lacota shakes his head. "Not me, I'm afraid. I grew up far, far from here, in the most unpleasant if circumstances, I'm afraid. Not pleasant at all..."

John nods, "Ah, sorry t'hear that. Though Ah d'somewhat know what ye're talking of, Ah'd wager. Weren't born at th'abbey either, no' did Ah come here till Ah were nearly out of dibbunhood. Seems most life outside of Mossflower is hard in thae end..." He sighs. "A sad reality o' th'times we live in."

Lacota harrumps, and sips his tea carefully. "I was born a slave," he remarks, "In the far north. Where it's almost always snowy. That's why I don't particularly care for the stuff. Brings back unhappy memories."

"Understandable," John replies. "Ah'm from th' borderlands mahself." Beyond that the younger squirrel falls quiet, thinking to himself.

Lacota nods, and gestures to the other cup. "You haven't touched your tea," he reprimands.

Looking around as if woken up from sleep, John murmurs, "Och, huh? Oh - aye, right." The squirrel picks up the cup and takes a long draft of it now that it's somewhat cooled off. "Ah know those were dark days fore ye, but... did ye ever see thae East Sea?"

Lacota nods, and settles back into his chair, basking in the warmth of the fire. "Ah, yes, I have, as it happens," he replies. "I'll tell you about it... This was a couple of seasons after I managed to run away, mind you. A while yet before I'd even heard tell of this "Red Wall" place... Anyway, I found myself heading east, you know? With a traveling band of minstrels, of all things..."

Abbot Benar and John, squirrels, & Brother Gorvenalus, a beaver

While it was true John had meant to seek out the abbot as quick as he could when he first arrived, it became very apparent that his urgency may have been unfounded. Nothing was amiss in the abbey or Mossflower beyond nor was there even a hint or rumour of trouble. So the squirrel allowed himself to relax for the first time since the previous winter, when he set out for the Western Shore.

But now he's had his fill of easy living and figured he should probably chat with the elder squirrel if he can get the chance. So John has been wandering the halls looking for the father abbot.

Benar steps in from outside, the abbot removing his cloak and shaking some of the snow out of it. He pauses and smiles at John, moving toward them, "Hello there, how are you doing? It has been awhile since I last saw you"

"Been a long while since Ah were here last," John replies, "Which might explain that. An' Ah've no' done much th'past days Ah've been here, Ah've no'." The squirrel looks around the large hall. "Thae Abbey seems in good shape, which is good. Seems every o'er time Ah get back here there's something or another wrong, there is. Mighty glad that's no' th'case nowadays."

Benar asks, "Yes we are all doing well, it has been a quiet winter," he says softly with a smile, "I have been getting in a lot of pottery, it has been nice," he looks around the hall, "How was your journey here? Have you been anywhere nice?"

"Only t' th' western shore and back, t' be frank no' much Ah can call nice." The younger squirrel shrugs. "Ah'm mighty glad t'see that wee badger dibbun made it back safe, Ah am. After Ah handed him off t' those hares Ah hadnae a clue what happened till Ah got back here." John straightens his back slightly, his attention shifting wholly onto Benar "Which reminds me, father abbot, why Ah came back. There haven't anything alarming t'report in th'past few seasons, have there?"

Benar sits down in his chair and curls his tail, "Well there was a murder in Ferravale, that was alarming... especially as it was committed by a hare... he was banished from Mossflower, but other then that nothing else has really happened."

Gorvenalus comes down from the library steps with two novices who stand behind him, he smiles as he speaks "You can go now lads, thank you for helping me dust and straighten up bookbinding room." The two novice smile and quickly head past the beaver and into Cavern hole as the beaver shakes his head "No running...." He sighs and then glaces at the other two "Hello, hope your day is well so far"

John remains standing where he was, his head tilting to one side. "A hare, ye say? An' who were that?" He adds after a moment. "-No' that Ah wish t'drag up some bad business, of course. Beyond that there's been nothing?" He seems relieved, genuinely. "Here Ah'd feared, well," when the recorder arrives he trails off, nodding to the beaver. "Hullo there."

Benar says, "I am afraid I do not wish to speak their name, they are dead and gone to the Black Forest we should... leave it at that," he said softly, "Oh hello Gorvenalus"

Gorvenalus nods, he knows of whom the abbot speaks of but for now he doesn't share. "Hello my friend. I been in the library most of the day."

"Alright then." John nods, slowly, "Ah shan't push thae issue, donnae ye worry." Falling quiet, it seems as if the squirrel is lost in thought.

Benar asks, "So what is it like travelling in winter these seasons? It has been a long time since I did a long journey in the winter"

Gorvenalus goes to sit down in a chair, "I for one rather travel in warm weather. I dislike the cold weather in Mossflower, it didn't snow much  on the shores where Willowbark is. Once in a while it might snow"

"Ah prefer traveling in warm weather meself," John says with a sideline glance at the beaver, "But sadly need seems t'demand traveling through sleet and snow and th' like, so it does. And there's no' much t'say on that front, either. 'Twas cold, damp, though Ah dae admit th'way all turns quiet under th'snow is pleasant and peaceful enough. Ah like it well enough." He adds as an after thought, "And this time Ah weren't tracking some murdering vermin through th' weather."

Benar says, "Well ... I am glad you were not having to track down a murderer," he says softly, "I am sad Elbio was unable to return to the Abbey with you from the shore. But I guess he will return in the Spring, so now you are here are you planning to stay for awhile?"

Gorvenalus tilts his head at the mention of Elbio and frowns "There... was some news about him recently, from Rufus. It seems the letter he had, got lost. But I do remember the main part of it."

The name Elbio was vaguely familiar to John. "He were one of those hares, weren't he?" He rubs the back of his neck. "Now th'thing is, mah last encounter with them weren't on th'best of terms. Had t'stay in Halyard fore some time, on account of recovering from a battle there, an' stayed on t' help th'locals once th'fighting were done. Something bad were on th'prowl, Ah'd felt, and th' patrol nearly got entangled like Ah meself did. Th'reason Ah'm back here were t'see if th'same sort of trouble wouldnae be brewing here afore long. Thankfully that doesnae seem th'case, but aye, Ah'm planning on sticking 'round here fore a while longer, just in case."

Benar says, "Well... no trouble here John, we've not had anyone strange nosing around and really there isn't much anyone can really do to the Abbey... and I doubt the Chieftan in Ferravale would tolerate anything."

Gorvenalus nods "I like the peace, now the letter.... what happen..." He frowns trying to fully remember as old age can  make one forget and it was a busy day that day "Oh yeah... I had told a novice to make sure you got it to  read all of it and the novice got in soaking wet in a rain puddle... I did try to safe the letter and failed badly, so I don't remember the details but Lt. Elbio is not coming back,he is gonna stay in... Halyard with his daughter Ciana." He frowns "He was ambushed and hurt badly, ended up in a wheeled chair, it was near end of summmer the end of autumn when the letter came"

Benar says, "Oh... that is a shame," he sighs, "I must have missed that news.... I liked Elbio, it was nice to have the perspective of one of the Long Patrol around."

"Nae, Ah don't suppose that cat would." John murmurs. "Well, Ah shan't complain then, and it might be th'case Ah'm a wee bit tae wary, this time." Finally finding a seat, the younger squirrel seems to relax a bit. "Ah've been keeping mah ear and eyes open since Ah got back, but nothing much t'say on that front, thankfully." When the news about the hare is broken, John remains politely quiet. He did not really know the hare nor could he put a face to the name.

Gorvenalus says, "I did as well like the Lt... But yes peace is good and I believe the abbey will have the winter feast soon"

Benar says, "Ah well, I am sure he will be very happy on the shore with Ciana," he stands up and shakes out his habit, "I am glad you are home John but do try to relax the abbey is safe and secure"

"Ah've been around long enough t'point t'several instances it weren't," John laughs, "But fore now Ah'll d'mah best and take yore advice. Ah'm no' planning nor eager t'gae out wandering while snow's on th'ground, Ah'm no'."

Gorvenalus says, "Any threats are likely a good distance away. We do have the GUOSIM, Camp Willow to also  keep an eye out for trouble. I wonder whee the GUOSIM are,I do hope they are alright  during the winter"

Benar says, "Well for now I for one am glad it is quiet," he smiled, "Now I should return to my office, but it was good to see you John, Gorvenalus."

Gorvenalus nods "Have a good eve Benar"

Dipping his head, John stands as well. "Of course, abbot. Farewell." He glances at the beaver. "Ah cannae say Ah share that sentiment, of course. Those shrews are about as like t'dibbuns as beasts can get, and frankly Ah might trust th'wee ones of this abbey t'keep watch better than them." He gives another laugh, yet his tone is semi-serious. "Th'otters though - Ah've no' heard much of them since back in th'days when Pyke and th'like were about. Weren't th'camp ruined?"

Gorvenalus says, "I think I did read something in the abbey logs. Yes camp Willow was destroyed but they have fixed it up some." He is quiet and then speaks "I do know who ambushed Elbio... they were the same hare in Ferravale, and the sea gull had news of him"

"Tae ye now?" John raises a brow. "Well, th'abbot said the beast were dead, so Ah shan't pry further." Something does tug at the back of his mind however, though he can't quite figure out what it is.

Gorvenalus seems to debate on saying the name "A lot hate the hare now, he was a sargeant.... well before he was kicked out of the Long Patrol. I did write some about it in the abbey logs"

"He were a murderer, so th'hate is understandable." John sits back down turning is face from the recorder, his voice dark. "Even if that hasnae stopped beasts in thae abbey forgiving some..." The squirrel shakes his head. "Seasons back Ah ran intae another hare like thae one ye and thae abbot described. Strange beast he were, though Ah learned he died soon after."

Gorvenalus asks, "Another hare or maybe the same one?"

"Less th'hare were banished from here back when th'last war came through Mossflower, Ah doubt it." John shrugs. "Were at least seven seasons ago. Though Ah did see a hare on th'western shore recently, come t'think of it. Could've been Patrol, but Ah weren't interested in getting tae close, Ah weren't."

Gorvenalus says, "Likely a good plan just in case." He sighs now and looks tired "I have no clue why a hare would turn bad, maybe  the hare just had a lot going on even when others tried to help him. The hare was best friends with Xander Winters.... and I am sure Xander likely had some.... perhaps words when the hare ended the dark forest, anyways I am tried and need to get some sleep."

The pieces fall into place at the mention of the late badger. "It were that hare?" John had only met him once or twice. "He'd always stuck me as a braggart and a wee naive, but no' a murderer... Hmm. Either way, he did little in thae end t'help Xander in life or avenge his death, it seems."

Gorvenalus frowns "Yes... Zolomon is the hare, but the hare is dead, that's true. You helped to track down the wildcat and yu helped make sure young Oz  got home, for that all is glad"

John gives a grim laugh. "In thae end that wildcat needn't me t' track him; he made enough of a ruckus by th'time he made it t'th' western lands." Standing the squirrel begins to stretch. "Ye mentioned sleep, so Ah shan't keep ye, recorder."

Gorvenalus gives a simple nod and heads to his room.

Lossow & Cpt. Velm, hares
+ Lt. Redford & a recruit as spoofs

Redford was coming up from the lower levels and the storage rooms carrying a box of various supplies for the infirmary. He'd roped one or two hares to help him, including one Walter Lossow who trailed behind the other officer with his own box. They were both silent. The third hare was the same - a rather small recruit who felt rather sheepish.    

The dust down in the storage rooms had been positively dreadful and actually finding the blasted non-perishable medical supplies had been a nightmare that had taken up at least an hour. There was more down there and they probably had to go back, but both Lossow and the private were actively looking for ways to ditch the young medical officer! Even though both Walter and Redford were the same rank now, the former felt ditching the medic without a good explanation MIGHT be a bad look for him. But that didn't change the fact that he technically didn't agree to help, either...........    

Velm had heard they were cleaning up some old areas of the mountain, he in fact did some cleaning of his own in the infirmary.He made sure things were a lot easier to find,which was good in case of future emergency.He sees the others and nods "Hallo all"    

"Hullo, sah!" Redford beams. "Got some of those old bandages and the like from down below, captain."    

Behind him Lossow and the private come to a stop, the latter unable to salute on account of having a box in their paws.    

Velm nods as he goes to inspect one of the boxes, "We will have to make sure they are still usable of course, some herbs down thar are likely not usable now, some may be though. Any old books found by any chance? I know records were keep somewhere on healing lessons and some of the past battle injuries and how they were treated,and if anything else that could still be good knowledge." A smile "It is still helpful to look at old records, sometimes one may find a solution to something,even if it might seem a strange solution, also at the same time learn of what didn't work"    

"No books or records to be found here, captain," Lossow states flatly. "We didn't touch the many piles of them that were stacked in the back room, wot." Redford nods. "Er, sorry about that, sah. I was going to go through them after dropping all this off, of course."    

Velm says, "Tis fine, tis fine. I do wonder who decided to do basically a deep cleaning of rarely used rooms, one never used from wot I saw"    

Redford blinks. "Well, sah-"    

"Cleaning may be a bit generous, captain!" Lossow laughs as he cuts in. "Daresay it was a simple retrieving operation of these lost supplies, wot. And rarely used is an understatement. Utterly abandoned and forsaken might fit the bill better, I'd say - isn't that right, recruit?"    

The recruit nods, "Er, yes sah..."    
   
Velm chuckles a little."Seems deep cleaning be a good job for a punishment also. But not always, cleaning does need to be done and who knows maybe start to use a room again for something new"    

"Right sah!" Redford nods to the box in his paws. "As soon as I get things put away I'll go see to it, wot!"    

Lossow raises a brow. "Perhaps that's a job better suited for an entire company..." He mutters to himself.    

Velm says, "True, cleaning does require a lot of work if it's to be done right."    

"Indeed, captain." Lossow nods, handing off his box to the private - who disappears behind the two crates in their paws, swaying slightly.    

Redford doesn't notice, instead stepping into the infirm. "I'll just go and deposit this and I'll be right back, sah. Come on you two!"    

.... Only the private follows now that the officer of the 67th's paws are free.