She's a Wyld one Alright

It is early morning, and the mist is a welcome blanket as it lays thick on the road. For the next few hours, the heat is at bay, and the air is almost comfortable to walk in. Nocturnal insects chirp loudly, not ready quite yet to retire. Wyld is walking slowly towards Redwall, in her hand a list of literature. Though she was happy enough to do anything for the Ferret Sir, she is by no means happy about this journey. "Why books?" She grumbles.

Bleary eyed, Zocalo trudges along next to her, haversack slung over his shoulder and across his chest. "Because he's Sarnith. And he wants us out of his shop." He mutters gloomily and absently kicks a pebble down the road.

WyldHeart turns to reguard Zocalo for a moment before replying. "Why wud' he want us gone den'?" She walks neatly along the path as she speaks, making odd detours and zigzags for no reason at all. "If'ed wanted us gone, we could do a number of things, go fishin', go diggin', nog be going to blasted old ruddy wall."

Zocalo walks in a straight line, head hung and his paws in his pockets. "I'm not sure why. Something's going on." He watches the cat in his peripheral vision, thinking. "You've got that list, right?"

WyldHeart rolls her shoulders, and starts skipping a little bit as she zags. "Aye, I got the scribbles here." She holds it in her moderately clean paw, crinkled to high heaven. "And if something is going on, why would he send us off then?" She murmurs.

Zocalo sighs. "That's what I can't figure out." He pauses for a moment, considering something, then finally spurts it out. "Yesterday before you arrived he came in with a load of beat-up armor. And he's been fortifying all of the windows and doors." He holds his paws out, frustrated. "What does that sound like to you?"

WyldHeart continues to skip a bit before stopping, and spins a bit on her heels as she does. She looks at the frustrated otter. "Bad things of some kinds er' another." Her smiles falls of her maw, "I really am sick of 'dat type o' garbage really. Thats why I came out of the stupid sticks' then!" She says softly, "The trees ar' full of rats."

"I think, really, that the /world/ is full of rats." Zocalo says disparagingly. "But Sarnith isn't one of them." He cracks a smile. "First time I met him I punched him in the face. And then he hired me to work at his shop. And then you waltzed in yesterday looking all sad with your big eyes and he sent you to Redwall with me." The otter stops walking, determination written across his features.

Quite suddenly Wyld's eyes look rather mad. "HEY now, water-dog, my eyes' are amazin and never /sad/." She starts to fluff up all over as she waltzes right up to the other. "And why in the world would you punch' a ferret in the face den?"

Zocalo leans back slightly to avoid the cat's glaring face. "I never said your eyes looked bad but don't tell me you weren't trying to draw some pity yesterday with that act at the countertop." He sidesteps around her. "And it's a long story why I punched him. I'll tell you later." He takes two or three more steps forward before he stops again. "Do you know the way to Redwall?"

At the mention of Red Wall, Wyld's eyes suddenly grow large and sad again. "Aye, I know the way." She starts stomping towards it again, the meander lost in her step. "And you might as well tell me yer' story now then, because we're gunna walk forever ta' get there."

Zocalo might as well indeed. Although he's got alternate plans spinning through his head at the moment. "Eer, we were in the tavern there in Ferravale, well, Sarnith was. And I walked in." It's sort of an embarrassing story so he changes up a few details and leaves others out. "I ordered an ale and sat down next to him but he wouldn't stop goading me on about it. So eventually I had enough and just turned and punched him in the face." He shrugs. "Next thing I knew we were both on the floor, trying to choke the other one out. We finally got back up on our paws though and I sorta...lost my balance and he knocked me out." He trails off towards the end and scuffs the road with his foot. "But then he took me back to his shop and let me sleep in that bed." He leaves out the part about how now she's sleeping in it.

That tale did not have the action needed to keep Wyld's attention, sadly. Towards the end her gait lengthens and she starts scampering around again. "WELP!" She announces loudly, "Sounds like you shouldn't get drunk'en fight so much then? Why do creatures go about drinking anyhow huh?'It seems ta' me it causes all sorts of stupido- problems an' fighten." Dramatic pause. "I bet rats would be nicer if they didn't drink'n fight all the time." And that's how Wyldheart sees it!

Zocalo sees the need to clarify a point. "I wasn't drinking! Sarnith...!" He throws his paws in the air. Short of telling her the true version of the story, there's no way to get her to understand. "I agree with you anyway. Drinking only leads to problems." She hasn't been around the shop enough to understand how much drinking Sarnith does. It's not Z's problem though. Enough about him anyways. "So where're you from?"

WyldHeart slows her pace a little, bending over to look at a beetle on a rather long stalk of dried grass. After a good assessment, she starts poking it with a claw. POKE. "Well when I was young I lived by a river.. and I left.." Clearly, she can attempt to lie a bit, but it's not a great. "Then they took me to Red Wall. Then I left. Lived in 'da twigs fer a time." She shrugs. "Now I guess with Mr. Sir in his spinter-shop." Like her stories are any better.

That was so....vague. Zocalo tilts his head to the right and sort of watches her for a bit. Truth be told, Wyld isn't as bad as he'd painted her to be. Just a little flighty. He turns to look at the path behind them and the gates of Ferravale which are still slightly visible in the mist. "Look...Wyld?" He stops moving and toys with the strap of the haversack.

WyldHeart pokes the poor bug off the stalk sending it flying. Twitching her whiskers, she twirls about once, then twice. Truth be told, she doesn't care much about how long it takes to get to Red Wall. Forever is fine with her. At Zocalo's voice, she turns to face him- the bug an afterthought. "Look what?" Dur.

"Here." Zocalo holds the haversack out at her. "You're going to have to go to Redwall alone. I need to stay here in Ferravale." He holds his breath as he holds the bag out, hoping she'll take it without any further question.

WyldHeart deflates, as if Zocalo stole something from within her. Ears flatten slightly. "But, Mr. Sir. Ferret said we're to go to Red Wall to get books." She stares at the bag as if it is infected with something. "And you said there might be fighting here..?" And her eyes get big, they get wide, "And there are rats in the woods." The last part, quiet.

"No, no, no!" Z's voice is calm, soothing. "Not here, not so close to Redwall. You'll be safe as long as you stay on the dirt road. And it's really, really important that I stay. I need to help someone. We're all going to be okay." He nods encouragingly but not at all condescendingly. "Alright? Mr. Sir. Ferret" (to his credit, Z does not trip over the new moniker) "really does need these books and you know the way and I don't." He steps closer to her, still holding the bag. "Please?"

WyldHeart is dim in many ways, but she can feel that somehow, what is going on here is not right- by her anyways. With her fast reflexes, she snatches the bag from the otter's paws. Anger making her whiskers stand on end, she turns and stomps off down the path- wordless. As she walks further, her breaths get more sharp and her steps much more stompy.

Crud. Zocalo smacks his forehead with his clenched fist and quickly chases after her. "Wyld, wait! Look!" Maybe if he explains it all to her.... for some reason he doesn't want the cat going off angry. "Look." He says again, breathless, once he's caught up with her. "Sarnith, Mr. Sir. Ferret, is in trouble. I don't know how and I don't know who with but something is going to happen. Today most likely considering that he's sent us to Redwall. I'm going back to help him because he's sent /everyone/ away and he can't do it on his own." The fact that the ferret feels the need to use armor displays this fact clearly. "It's nothing against you."

WyldHeart won't look at Zocalo as he speaks to her, she just nods mutely. Taking a breath of misty air, she turns back towards the lonely road. For a while she just stands there, before taking very purposeful, straight steps in the direction of the abbey.

Now Zocalo feels really bad. Not only is he directly defying Sarnith's orders (even if it is to help him) he's also sent the cat off on an eight to ten hour trip on her own. And that's just one-way! He stands helplessly in the road as Wyld marches off looking forlorn and sad. He waits until she is well out of sight before turning around and heading back to Ferravale. He walks slowly knowing that he's got pretty much all day to kill.