Cloak And Crutches
Eighth of December, 2008
RW Abbey: Great Hall
The Great Hall of Redwall Abbey. Countless paw falls have echoed from these stones, and untold numbers of feasts and merry gatherings have been held here. A table, not nearly so grand or large as its predecessors, but quite functional for mealtimes, rests near the center of the hall. Chairs exist here aplenty, though most of them are obviously not from the same set. High above, the stain glass windows give the Great Hall a beautiful appearance. The glasswork is exceptionally done, crafted by a skilled artist. The floor is clean and swept. A fire is kept burning in the fireplace at almost all times of the day and night, and there are several more comfortable chairs and cushions set up here, of varying sizes. One looks large enough to easily accommodate a badger.
The Tapestry hangs proud and tall, and while the rest of Redwall may still bear the scars of natural disaster, this most famous of Redwall's relics remains unharmed by beast, time, or the elements. The figure of Martin the Warrior seems to be watching over his own with an unchanging, kindly gaze.
Soft light is slowly beginning to filter in through the stained glass windows high above your head.
Exits/Entrances:
[K]itchen [St]airs [C]avern [H]ole
[Li]brary [En]try [B]reezeway
Exits: [F]ly to [R]oof, [F]ly to [L]edge
This is new - Sivaine, out of the infirmary. The convalescent mousemaid is sharing a quiet breakfast with her sister at the hearth, keeping a bowl of porridge steady between her knees so she can eat one-handed. Ardice has finished hers - there's an empty bowl and spoon by her feet - and is curled up, sketching.
With promises of not going outside, Gwennythe finds herself visiting the Great Hall once more. She appears, apparently, from the direction of Cavern Hole, looking quite tired and subtly bruised upon her wings and ears. Upon spotting the sisters, the bat blinks, almost looking surprised and immediately doubles back, disappearing from whence she came, though her head does pop back around for another quick look.
It's certainly them; there's little mistaking their shapes, so disparate yet similar. Ardice sticks her tongue out at her drawing; her arm curves back like a heron's neck as she gives the paper a critical eye. "..and there! What do you think, Siv? Watch your spoon!" Her sister leans over the armrest, holding the spoon far out to the other side. "I look like a girl." "Siv. You are a girl." "Not according to some people." "Well, if you listen to /them/.. should I take your dishes?" "Mmh, wait. Stay. Sister Beverly will dragoon you into the kitchen brigade and I won't see you 'til dinner."
Gwennythe returns, just a short while later with a bundle of blue cloth. She hesitates in the doorway, having a quick look down at the cloak, making sure she's satisfied before she pads towards the two mice, tentatively. "Um. Ben vespre, m'dam Sivaine, m'dam Ardice..."
"Oh, Gwennythe, good morning!" Ardice exclaims with a smile. "Gwennythe." Sivaine has a smile for the little bat too, but an uncertain one, as if she hasn't used it in a while. Ardice is putting down her things and rising. "Don't tell me you've finished already?" she asks, while Sivaine murmurs "You're well? I heard you took ill."
Gwennythe smiles, nodding a little to Ardice. "Um, oc... Um, very little to do lately. And, um, the healers said that it might be good for my wings..." She shuffles then, a little uncomfortable. "Um, I am well enough now, m'dam. A little bit of, um, a cold, but I hope it will not grow any worse. Um, how are you? I'm sorry I didn't visit... I did try..." She adds the latter, quickly.
Sivaine regards Gwennythe for just slightly too long, then nods. Her smile is weary, but genuine. "I'm glad you did, and thank you. And I'm on the mend - three more weeks, I think. I hope you're taking care of yourself as well." There's a brief pause while she sets porridge and spoon aside, then rises to stand beside her sister. "Look." She flutters the fingers of her splinted arm. Grins.
Sharpclaw pads his way in from the kitchens, the fox fresh off of dishes duty. The fur of his arms is still somewhat wet, a fact he's trying to correct as he rubs a towel over them. A sniff of the air gets Sharpclaw the smell of mouse and bat. A wave is given to the general direction of the room, the vulpine facing the fireplace as he does so. "Hello, everybeast!"
The bat nods, affirming that she is taking care of herself, then perks her ears as Sivaine stands and moves her fingers. "Oh. Oh, that's good!" She beams. "And, three weeks will go quickly, oc? And then your arm will be completely better?" She blinks, then, and remembers the fabric she holds. "Oh, um... This is for you..."
"Quicker than the last three, I hope," Sivaine quips. "Then I'll be able to start doing little things, yes." Then she blinks, pleasantly surprised, and takes a second look at the bundle of fabric. "Really? Is that-? You-" It's Ardice who comes forward with a little smile and an 'I'll take it for her, Gwennythe.'
"Sharpclaw! Look, Gwennythe's finished the cloak," Ardice calls to the novice.
Sharpclaw perks an ear as he's addressed, the fox attempting to dry his arms by way of the fireplace's heat. He turns about, padding over to the sound of Ardice's voice. "Hmm?" he inquires as he closes in. "Gwen? You've been making a cloak?" he inquires, standing by the uninjured Brennig sister.
Gwennythe nods and lets Ardice take the cloak, smiling. "Oc. Um... Ardice helped to work out the size... Ben vespre, senher Sharpclaw." The little bat turns, to greet the fox, quite happily. "Um, oc. For m'dam Sivaine. Senher Demmer asked for me to do it, sometime back now...."
Ardice, meanwhile, shakes out the cloak to its full length and holds it up to Sivaine's frame. "Thick fabric," she comments appreciatively. "Siv, you'll like this. See, there's a mantle.." "I see," her sister replies dryly, but she looks amused. Pleased, even, and she steps away from the chair so Ardice can drape it over her shoulders and tug it into position. "It's a good fit. Did you measure me in my sleep?" "No," her sister beams. "I just know you." "Heh." Sivaine fingers the fabric with her free paw and looks.. content. "Gwennythe," she says seriously, "this is wonderful."
Sharpclaw gives a little giggle, the fox all grins. "Gwennythe...you are simply the kindest, most thoughtful bat in this Abbey! Making something like that for Sivaine here! You put we Novices to shame." Even though he can't see the garment, he still seems fairly excited about the whole thing. "What color is it? Siv? Can I feel it, if it's not a problem?" he asks, the curious vulpine stepping closer to the twin sounds of Brennig.
The little bat beams. "Oh, um, I am pleased you like it, M'dam. But, um, please, it was Senher Demmer's idea... And, um, I have taken so long over it... And the other work... Um, please, do thank Senher Demmer, M'dam Sivaine, next you should see him". Sharpclaw's praise gets a blush and a firm shake of the head. "Um, n-non, Senher Sharpclaw... It was, um, a request... There is nobeast who could put any shame upon the Novices here..."
"Gwennythe," Sivaine says again seriously. "Three weeks is not a long time for a garment like this, especially when you've been ill that time. I owe Demmer, but I also owe you. It's an excellent job." She gives the little bat a gentle pat on the shoulder, and a smile. Then /grins./ "I have a _cloak._" Ardice giggles and holds out a fold toward Sharpclaw, using her other paw to guide his toward it. "It's blue," she tells him.
There's a small commotion outside the door before Lucas quickly appears through it and holds it closed again with a paw "No throwing snow at the abbey!" he yells to the giggling outside as a couple of impacts sound on the door. It doesn't take long for them to go back to throwing snowballs at each other though and Lucas hesitantly takes his paw off the door...No invading dibbuns. Good. He heads for the fire, brushing snow off his shoulders and offering a small nod to the little group he spots on the way "Morning all" It may not be snowing out right now but the white stuff is apparently flying about all the same.
"Lucas." Sivaine turns that proud grin on him. "I have a /cloak./" She sounds like she's two seasons old.
Sharpclaw sighs slightly at the little bat's nature. "Gwen...no need to be so modest. You've done something very sweet, and you've worked hard! Be proud of yourself!" The vulpine rubs the fabric once Ardice guides his paw towards it. "Oh, thank you Ardice! Umm...maybe a little later...think we can talk?" he inquires of the Brennig. The fox starts to compliment Gwen again on the wonderful feel of the garment, until Lucas barges in, apparently having just tried to wrangle some dibbuns. "Morning Lucas!" Wagwag.
Ardice blinks, puzzled, then: "Oh! You mean about.." She tries to do a sly wink. It doesn't work. "Morning, Lucas! See what Gwen's made!"
Gwennythe smiles and shuffles, stepping back a little to watch Sharpclaw feel the cloak, still blushing. She remains quiet for the moment, until Lucas appears. Her ears perk a little at the snow-thuds. As he leaves the door though, she offers a little nod. "Ben vespre, senher."
Lucas looks faintly surprised, it must be a very important cloak "One that doesn't smell of fish?" there's a very old reference in there somewhere. From the others he can only guess that Gwen made it "Perfect weather for cloaks" he's heading over to see this cloth masterpiece.
Sharpclaw blushes beneath his fur, the fox's coloration thankfully hiding it. "I...um...yes, at your convenience" he says, then distracts himself with admiring the cloak. He lets it go, giving poor Sivaine some space. "Blue, hmm? That's a perfect color for you, Sivaine! Nice and solid, yet soft enough if you search hard enough."
"No. Not at all of fish. And it's /mine./" Sivaine is beaming, bouncing up and down on her toes like a dibbun on their nameday. Her smile is approaching the level of Ardice's blinding sunshine beam; she is /happy./ She actually does a little twirl and laughs. "Haa. That's what I am, is it?" Ardice covers her smile with a paw, just watching her sister.
The little bat smiles, as she watches too, still content to be quiet for a few moments more, before talk of cold weather prompts her. "Oh... Um... Would anybeast want some tea or something warm..?"
Lucas chuckles at Siv's twirl, the big mouse slowly grinning "Clearly it suits you well!" He's happy to see her so delighted obviously. Gwen gets a glance shortly afterwards though "Tea would be lovely"
"Tea. And cloaks. /Why/ have I been holing up in the infirmary all this time." Bounce bounce.. bounce. Stop. Sivaine rocks back on her footpaws as her spurt of enthusiasm dies down and coughs, trying to look dignified. "Yes, well. I would like some tea, Gwennythe, thank you." The grin breaks through. "I think she likes it," Ardice giggles to Sharpclaw.
Sharpclaw earperks, the fox hearing Gwen mention tea. "Raspberry tea sounds wonderful!" the fox states, grinning. Ardice gets a giggle. "You know, you two are definitely more alike that I first thought!" He pads past the wonderful cloak-making bat. "Want an extra set of paws to help out with the tea?" he inquires of her, not wanting to anger the small one by stealing the beverage-giving task if she wishes to do it herself.
The sisters blink. They look at each other. "No we're not," they chorus. "Stop that." "I didn't!" "Ard." "Siv." ..then Sivaine snorts amusedly.
Raspberry tea all around then? Gwennythe dips her head and wanders towards the kitchen, smiling again at the reaction from Sharpclaw's comment. To the fox she gives a hesitant, little nod, before catching herself and vocalising it. "Oh, um, oc. Yes please, senher, if you could..." She's not sure she'd carry much without dropping it.
Lucas snorts at the sisters, smirking away as he shakes his head "Suddenly I'm glad to be an only child" he's starting to make his way a little closer to the fire at the same time. He's still a bit cold from the snow.
Player Title S Species Stat Idle Location
"Mmmm, cloak." Sivaine hunches her shoulders and buries her nose in the fabric. "I want to go try this out." Then her eyes flick sideways. "I heard that, Lucas." "Why would you say that?" Ardice asks, innocently bemused. "Oh! Watch the porridge.." She indicates her and Siv's bowls, set at the feet of their chairs. Siv's still has porridge in it.
Sharpclaw follows along behind Gwen, the fox's ears catching the two sister's banter. He giggles all the way, not at all acting his age as he heads into the kitchen with the seamstress bat.
RW Abbey: Kitchen
This is a long, narrow room with five large fireplaces set into one wall, and two equally large wood burning iron stoves set against the opposite wall. Several small, rectangular tables rest in here, but there are no chairs available. The rest of the wallspace is taken up by an entire array of shelves, cupboards, and counters which hold the day-to-day cooking supplies and utensils. The kitchen is clean and well maintained, and more recent efforts have been made toward organization of the cooking ware.
On the wall just right of the door leading into Great Hall is a neatly penned chart, which lists the names of beasts assigned to cooking duty as well as the dates and times they are scheduled. A small note above the chart urges residents to volunteer for at least a slot or two a week.
The light from the windows is bright and cheerful. This room is rather warm due to the ovens being used, and at times can get quite uncomfortable.
Exits/Entrances:
[G]reat [H]all [Wine] Cellar [Sc]ullery
[C]avern [H]ole [Pan]try [La]rder
[Ki]tchen [P]ath
Gwennythe patters into the kitchen, almost a repeat scene, though her wings have no intention of pilfering the cutlery today. She wrinkles her nose and patters about for cups and things.
Sharpclaw starts up some boiling water, the vulpine relying on the deft cooks and assistants to lead him around. He greets everybeast as he pads about, searching for the tea ingredients.
Having gathered cups and things upon a couple of trays, Gwennythe starts to follow the fox around, attempting to help without actually managing to do so. "Um, thankyou, Senher Sharpclaw... I don't think I could have carried much... Um, do you think we should take some cake or biscuit in as well?"
Sharpclaw sniffs the air at Gwennythe's words. "Mmm...good idea Gwen! That cake sounds good. Umm...*sniff* should be over by the oven, I think." If there's one thing that the vulpine can find unerringly, it's food. The fox drops in a few tea ingredients, then goes about hunting for cutlery. He hunts up a knife, approximately bat-wieldable. "Here you go, mind cutting up some slices? I don't have much luck with that..." He fingers a small scratch on a paw. Yep, cutlery's not for the blind.
Gwennythe takes the knife with just a moment of hesitation, eyeing it with a little bitter familiarity. "Oc, certainly... Senher..." She swivels her ears and looks around, finding the cake where the fox describes. She quickly sets about slicing some and placing the slices upon one of the trays.
Sharpclaw starts to sing a song as he waits on the tea, the concoction swiftly boiling away. "His eyes, they closed, and his last breath took...he had seen all to be seen..."
The bat's ears twitch. She looks at the tea, then to Sharpclaw, ears folding somewhat at the lyrics of the song. The bat takes a small step backwards, but isn't sure what more to do... She doesn't want to interrupt his song, no matter the content.
"A life once full, now an empty vase...the blossoms on an early grave...walk away me tods, walk away me tods..." he continues, ear perking as he hears Gwen returning to his side. He takes the finished tea, paws hunting for the pitcher. Meaning, he has to stop his song. "Oh...Gwen? Where's the pitcher?"
( Sivaine enters from the Great Hall, looking.. well, far less cheery than before. Which is to say, back to normal. "Sharpclaw? Gwennythe?" She tugs her hood down and peers about for the aforementioned, or the dreaded Sister. )
Gwennythe is still a little peturbed by the song and blinks, sharply brought to focus on something else as Sharpclaw asks for the pitcher. "Um... Um, there... I'll get it." Another blink as Sivaine appears. "Um, perdon, M'dam Sivaine... We're taking longer than we should..."
"No, it's all right." Sivaine hastens into the kitchen, a faint line of worry on her brow. She manages a half-smile for the two. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't fall in a tureen or something. Gwennythe, I'm going to wear this cloak /all day./"
Sharpclaw doesn't see the line of worry, the fox blushing a bit. "My fault, entirely..." he starts up, not wanting to give Gwen any blame. Once he gets the pitcher, the finished tea's poured, a little left for the beasts currently in the kitchen. One teacup is poured, and passed to Gwen. "Here you are!" Next, time for Siv's!
"I'll just take mine in here," Sivaine says.
"And you'll need an extra cup for the Lieutenant," she adds.
Gwennythe does pick up on the fact that something has changed. Siv's not as bouncy as before... Half smile, worry line... "Oh, um, no. The tea is just taking a while to boil and we, um, keep adding things to our trays... It is nobeast's fault, really... Um, well, I am glad you like your cloak M'dam. Um, you do not wish to return to the Hall..?" She blinks, and with ears perked for the answer, quickly goes to retrieve another cup as a Lieutenant is mentioned...
"I don't-" Sivaine starts, and frowns unhappily. "It'll be better if I take a walk. I need the exercise." She absently reaches for her cup once Sharpclaw is out of the way.
Sharpclaw frowns as Sivaine mentions she'll have to take a walk. "Oh...well...if you ever need any company, we're all here for you Siv." Something's definitely wrong, but the fox doesn't push too much. He goes to pick up the tray of tea, a free paw left for his staff to help guide him around. The small tray of food is left for Gwen.
"I.. right, thank you.." is Sivaine's uncertain response. She leans up against the counter and nurses her tea, shoulders hunched.
The bat looks at the food then back at Sivaine. "Um, I'll follow in a moment, Senher Sharpclaw?" She tries, fidgeting her wings a little, nervously.
Sharpclaw smiles in the bat's direction, nodding. "Take your time, Gwen." He pads out of the kitchen, the fox's concerned face turning to Siv's direction a moment. Best to let Gwen handle it, she's pretty good at this sort of thing.
( Sivaine casts a look at Gwennythe, but just.. tea. She drinks deep. )
Gwennythe would probably wonder how Sharpclaw came to such a conclusion that she'd be good at this if she could read minds... The little bat wrinkles her nose, turning a concerned expression on the mouse. "Um... Are you.. alright, M'dam Sivaine..?" Of course, that's pretty obvious, but still the bat asks, cautiously.
"I'm-" Sivaine starts. Hesitates. She takes another sip, a long one this time, and closes her eyes as she does so. Then: "Gwen, have you ever felt-" Sigh. "I was trying not to think about this," she mutters.
The bat has tea too, though she doesn't do much with it. Her ears perk, fall a little and then then perk again, while her little brow furrows. "Um, ever felt..?" She prompts, then fidgets a little bit. "Um, perdon, M'dam... But, beasts usually tell me that not thinking about something isn't the same as solving a problem..."
( Sivaine closes her eyes again. "Ever felt like.." We're one word up, but then she switches tacks. "What if you can't solve it? What if everything you try just.. makes it worse." )
( Sivaine says, "What if just /being/ there makes it worse." )
The little bat's ears fall again. "Then, I think you must just keep trying, until something is forced to change, and being there no longer makes it worse, M'dam... There is always a way to solve a problem, though it might not be obvious at all..." She frowns a little, rechecking that makes sense in her little head... Seemed to...
"But I don't want to hurt-" Sivaine starts. Frowns. She drains her teacup, sets it down, and rubs one of her temples. "I just don't know. ... I'm so used to leaving."
"Everything's just.. better that way."
Gwennythe watches, tilting her head a little. "Don't want to hurt... someone?" She then shakes her head as Sivaine mentions leaving. "M'dam... N-non. Things would just seem better, perhaps. But, it would leave something unsolved and that would be a bad feeling... M'dam Sivaine, there are many beasts here who benefit from you being here, and, um, I think, I hope anyway, that you might feel that you benefit from their company..." She pauses, trying to think and choose her words as carefully as she can.
"I wouldn't have to come back. I could-" Sivaine has a pained expression; she looks toward the scullery, the window outside, Gwennythe. "Some of them don't. And I'm.. I don't know. I want too much. It was simpler when it was just.. us." Meaning Ardice. She frowns at her good paw.
"Are you sure you would be prepared to leave and not be able to come back here, M'dam? I... do not know of who it is you might be fearing to have upset, but I know a lot of beasts here, um, care about you M'dam... It may have been simpler, but, surely, it is not unwelcome to have so many friends?" The little bat takes a moment to pause and sip from her tea, wondering if she should try something else. "Um, M'dam, when you tell stories, what happens before a happy ending?" It might be more simple than real life, but it's the best the young bat can think to offer.
"I don't.. no, it's not. Gwennythe, I've never /had/ so many- I've never had someone-" Sivaine shakes her head to clear it. Picking up her teacup, she swirls the last drops in the bottom and watches the patterns they make. After a moment she speaks, a sad little smile on her face. "Heh. A lot of luck and improbable circumstances, Gwennythe. Usually with a magic sword."
Gwennythe nods a little, chewing at her lower lip. For all the things those large ears don't pick up on, she's surprisingly observant today. "Improbable circumstance is something the abbey has plenty of, I think. And a magic sword, M'dam, seems to be all some beasts here talk about. The latter, I know, does not help, but you are already lucky. With your luck, all the improbable circumstance of this place and all those beasts who care for you, a happy ending to your problem cannot be too far to hope for?"
There's an ear perk at the shouting... Hot water..? Did they finish the tea? The little bat puts hers down and... suddenly realises she doesn't spend enough time in here to know where beasts get water from, exactly... She eyes the scullery... Dishes are washed there, after all...
( Sivaine looks at Gwennythe for a long moment. She parts her lips to speak - and then her ears flick toward the Great Hall, eyes going sharp. "That was Taye," she informs the little bat. "Doesn't sound too.. huh." She rouses herself, shakes her head, and noting Gwennythe's indecision, nods to the scullery. "Grab the kettle; I'll show you where the pump is." )
Lucas appears in the doorway just in time for words of kettle grabbing "Pop this in it would you?" holding out some herbs all ready.
Gwennythe nods once, quickly and grabs a kettle from the side, pattering back over. "Taye..?" She enquires, but is more distracted with Sivaine's problem and learning about the pump than learning names right now... She blinks and extends the kettle out for Lucas to drop herbs in when he appears... "Um, more tea, Senher?"
( Sivaine turns back at the sound of Lucas's voice and blinks. "That's.. not tea," she remarks, coming forward to take the herbs in paw. "Pump is in the back, Gwen!" )
( Sivaine then promptly drops the herbs in the kettle and dusts off her paw. "What happened?" she asks Lucas. )
Gwennythe nods quickly, once more, and disappears into the scullery. A noise might indicate she's just about working out how to use the pump...
Lucas shakes his head to the tea parts "Barely even got tea to the cup in the hall yet" a glance to Siv at the 'what happened' bit "The dibbun. He was playing about with the crutches still and fell off. Bump to the head, Bottle's seeing to him"
Sivaine's mouth narrows in an unhappy curve. "Painkillers then?" she asks, already knowing the answer. "Sounds.. not good." Sigh. She heads into the scullery to help Gwennythe - with one arm it's difficult, but she can at least lend experience and some body weight.
Body weight would probably be good. That seems to be the main problem the bat has with the pump... She's just far to flimsy really. But, it shouldn't take long to fill a kettle. "Thankyou, M'dam." She huffs a little.
"Sure," Sivaine grunts, grasping the handle and bracing her weight on her good arm. Water begins to flow, a trickle at first, then a gush. "All right. Thanks, Gwennythe.. get a cup while I put this on, I guess? Lucas! Does he want this to drink or to soak?"
Lucas nods once "Looks to be painkillers. He's a dibbun, provided it is just a bump he should be fine...Do you need some help with that?" peering in at the pump work. He has two paws and he's heavy. They get it going before he can do anything though "Erm, to drink"
"Right. Cup, Gwennythe." Sivaine reaches for the kettle to whisk out of the scullery and place on the stove.
Gwennythe nods once and quick with an almost military "Oc, m'dam." before she rushes off to grab that other cup, slipping past Lucas, and then again as she returns as quick as she can with it, without running.
Sharpclaw pads back into the kitchen, the fox sniffing about for any familiar scents. He attempts to stay out of the way of all the hustle and bustle.
Sivaine narrows her eyes at the kettle, tapping her foot with impatience. "Tch," she mutters.
"I know, Lucas," Sivaine replies. "But. Thing. Bah." Boil, curse your eyes!
Lucas tries his best to keep out the way of the bat as she moves about before everything seems to settle down and he ends up staring at the kettle. Siv gets a small raised brow "Hm?"
"Ben vespre, Senher Sharpclaw!" Gwennythe calls, ears picking out the fox as she halts back near Sivaine, holding the cup ready. She gives a small puzzled look between the two mice and the kettle.
And there it goes. Sivaine nods her head to some soundless beat, waiting one, two, three, four.. "Right." The kettle is lifted and its steaming contents poured, carefully, into the cup. "Gwen, could you take-" Sivaine starts, setting the kettle down, frowns. "Bah. Harper isn't even /here./" And with that, plus cup, she sweeps into the Great Hall.
Sharpclaw takes in all the bustle. "Oh...do you need help in here?" He moves a bit as Sivaine starts towards the Great Hall.
"Bring the kettle!"
Lucas looks puzzled "...I'm standing right here and I still feel I've missed something" he quietly mutters. He shakes his head, most bewildered and glances back to Sharp and Gwen "One of your got the kettle or shall I?"
Sharpclaw yips, the fox jumping to complete the mouse's orders. He finds the kettle with the help of the kitchen staff, then goes to follow her. "Right behind you, Siv!"
Lucas gives a short nod. Kettle is got. He heads for the hall with the others.
Gwennythe watches Sharpclaw rush after Sivaine and then shakes her head to Lucas, perhaps in reply to both the first statement and the latter question; because Sharpclaw has the kettle, she doesn't. ^.^
Back in the Great Hall: Bottlebrush hands the cup to Tam and smiles, "Drink this, it will take away any headache you have, Tam." He then looks to Siv and nods, "Enjoy your walk, my squeakable friend." As nicknames go, that one is horrible...
