07:39 PM

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. Many of the stained glass windows are broken, and have been patched with canvas and boards to fend against the elements. 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
--------------------------------------------------------------------
** THIS ROOM IS BROADCASTING **

Kevarr plods through the outside doorway, yawning and rubbing her headfur furiously with her single paw. Her eyes are red-rimmed...she looks as though she hasn't got a snatch of sleep for a significant period of time. But she doesn't look particularly annoyed either. Just thoughtful and solemn. Most striking, however, is that she's not wearing her usual outfit. She's got a habit, an old, dark green one that's obviously seen better days, pulled over her.

Sitting in one of the chairs, Jarril looks down at a scroll that he is reading on his lap.  With a turn of the page to break the silence, he looks up for a moment and spots the marten coming in.  "Why hello there.  Not seen ya in a few seasons.  How's it going?"

Kevarr turns her head as her groggy reverie is broken, and eyes the hare carefully, trying to match a memory with the face. She doesn't quite manage it. Grunt. "Better than usual," she replies, just before a yawn interrupts whatever else she was going to say.

Jarril nods his head slowly.  "Late night, eh?"  Rolling the scroll up again and slowly beginning to tie it up again with the ribbon.  "Care to sit down and talk or are ya going off ta sleep?"  The hare's head tilts slightly to the side questionably.

Kevarr moves for the nearest chair, though she doesn't actually /sit/ in it. "Mmmf, no, no. It's a little late for sleeping now. I can talk, though I can't promise good company."

Jarril gives a sly grin.  "Well, it's better than the last time we met anyways.  Ya didn't quite wanted my help with a stone if I remember correctly."  The major puts the scroll to the side.  "But that's in the past.  Major Jarril Black Fleetpaw at ya service."  Bowing his head slightly.

Kevarr tries gamely to dredge up whatever memory he's referring to, but as she's been literally drowning herself in memories this morning, Jarril's just can't seem to surface. Meh. But introductions. She gives a slight nod, and replies only with, "Kevarr."

Jarril idly touches the scroll with his paw and muses softly.  "So, how've ya been since last summer?"  The hare keeps his only eye on Kevarr.

Kevarr lifts her paw and waves it slowly back and forth. That's an accurate description. "Wonderful and horrible and everywhere in between." She chews on the inside of her cheek. Oh, right. "And you?"

Jarril ponders and replies back in a soft tone.  "Oh I could say the same thing.  Just add a war and a promotion in between and I think that covers the last few seasons, wot.  Can't say life is boring, so ta speak."  The smile broadening as the last words left the hare's lips.

"Never boring," Kevarr murmurs. And...ah. She finally sinks into the chair, and crosses her booted feet at the ankles. "As if we didn't have enough 'excitement' as it is before Ruingate." Her eyes partially close. "But I'll count it lucky that in all this time no one has actually brought an army to the gates."

Jarril nods his head.  "That's why we're here.  Ta help I mean.  Got a army of hares ta keep that sort of thing from happening at least, wot."  The major looks around and nods.  "Should get this place back ta bally well ship-shape in no time."  Or so the hare thinks at the time.

Kevarr's ears perk. "Aye," she murmurs rather lazily, her fingers curled and massaging the stump of her right arm. "Assuming we aren't overrun. Not to doubt the Long Patrol, but if Ruingate /wanted/ to field a competing army..."

Sunrose arrives from the Staircase..

Sunrose has arrived.

Jarril replies back softly to Kevarr.  "Then I will die, defending this place as ordered by Lord Bludstripe."  The hare's only eye doesn't blink or move as he speaks this.  "Ya get the same answer from any other of the long patrol's hares."

Sunrose shuffles in from the kitchen - in front of her is baby Connor, who looks quite paticular.  Indeed.  There is a tiny pillow tied to the top of his head, and scraps of cloth on his elbows and knees as he crawls forward eagerly.  He's squeaking to all get out, and Sunny is looking like she's going to have a stroke watching him toddle around.

Kevarr grunts. "Dying isn't really what I'll be hoping for." She rubs her eyes again as they threaten to close completely, and straightens up in the chair. "I'm not doubting your conviction, I--" Blink. She looks toward Sunrose and Connor, brows lifted curiously.

Sunrose's paws are hovering about three inches away from his body, as she walks around - bent over.  "Does he look like he's going to fall!?"

Jarril turns his head to look at Sunrose and nods his head in greeting before turning back to Kevarr.  "Oh don't worry.  I have no intentions of being killed."

Kevarr's curiosity shifts to amusement, though this is only visible in her eyes, and heard in the tone of her voice. "Sunrose, if he fell, I can't imagine he'd be able to hurt himself with all...that." Silly woodlanders. Dibbuns are made of rubber. "Good."

Jarril nods his head.  "Oh yes, young ones are made of pretty sturdy stuff, wot."

Sunrose explains,  "The pillow is incase anyone steps on him."  Yes.  Mouse crawlers are tiny.  "Well.. ah.. and I don't want him to scuff his knees."  meanwhile, Connor appears to be on a bee-line for Kevarr.  It's certainly a bee-line, he crawls off that way, then this way..  Ah la drunk dibbun.

Kevarr smiles thinly, watching the mouse child. Ah. Well, she can't help but not look predatory the few times she does smile, which probably doesn't help matters. "He'll be fine. You just need to watch him. And not blink."

Sunrose takes this advice, and watches as Connor weaves and wobbles.  Of course, thirty feet later.  He's absolutely exhausted.  He sits back on his rump and whines, curling his tail on the floor.  Sunny sighs, and puts her paws on her hips.  "I was wondering when you'd run out of strawberry juice, there."

Jarril nods his head and muses to himself as he fumbles with the scroll.  "At least we're on ground level and not high up in a mountain, needing ta keep an eye on young leverets wondering about."  The major goes quiet again and chuckles as a thought enters his head.

Kevarr glances sidelong at Jarril. "At least hares and mice don't /climb/. Not...well, anyway." She points at Connor. "Speaking of." She sighs. "Jarsune just started."

Sunrose flinches, for Kevarr had hinted to her prior experiences of Climbin' Kestrel.  "What was the first thing she climbed?" she inquires, as she takes a seat behind her son, untying the tiny pillow from his head.

"The clothes chest," Kevarr replies. "And the window sill. She can't get too much higher than that, I don't think. Marten claws weren't made for stone." She doesn't sound too convinced, however.

Sunrose adds thoughtfully,  "And with the new cracks, I'm sure she could find some paw holds."

Kevarr grimaces.

Jarril just listens while flicking or turning a ear this way and that.

Sunrose looks over at Jarril with a smile,  "Sorry I didn't greet ye so quick.  My name's Sunrose."

Jarril bows his head in return.  "Hello.  Major Jarril Black Fleetpaw at ya service."

Kevarr settles back, clearly brooding over Jarsune's imminent Gatehouse scaling. She's rubbing the stump of her maimed paw within the confines of the habit sleeve.

Sunrose looks over at Kevarr now,  "I'm feeling slighted, all the hares here have such neat names and titles."

Kevarr smiles slightly. "You've a flower name. I've a name that was made by attaching a 'K' to part of my clan's title. But we could call you 'Sister Sunrose' constantly, like the twit."

Sunrose shudders softly,  "Oh, I didn't mind Sister Sunrose before -Gyle-, and now it sounds so awful.  Everytime I hear it I want to hide under a bed."  she adds,  "And I -like- your name."

Sunrose says, "And your daughters have such pretty ones too.  How'd you come up with them?"

Kevarr is quite happy to skip over opinions about her name in favor of her daughters'. "Jarsune was the name of Aksha's daughter. She was a rather fierce general, and at a very young age. Kestrel was...ah." Her ears flick to either side. "...The name of someone I knew as a child." That's not /entirely/ a lie.

Sunrose listens, running her fingers through Connor's headfur.  "Well, they've both turned out lovely.  The names seem to fit them well.  I'm impressed with Kestrel, I asked her to help me change linen's in the infirmary - and she didn't even blink.  I'm so used to getting a fight out of a young one when I need help, but she didn't seem to mind t'all."

Kevarr smiles a little more. "Well. She knows she's responsible for doing what is asked of her. But she must have been interested in the chore. If it's something she really doesn't want to do, she'll try to wheedle her way out of it. Like going to bed. She keeps making excuses to get up. She needs water. She's hungry. Jarsune is kicking her."

Sunrose puts her paw over Connor's ears as he starts tugging insistantly at her robe, whining in the back of his throat.  "It was just changing the bed linen's."  she remarks, and then inquires.  "Since you're busy with Jarsune, I wouldn't mind having Kestrel about with me while I do chores.  I could help teach her a few things about being responsible.  Sweeping, dusting, putting things away - you know, the lot.  Now that it's warmer, it'll help her burn off some of that spring energy!"

Kevarr lifts both brows. "That would be a help, but you do have one of your own." She looks pointedly at Connor. "...Although...I'm afraid I must admit I'm not really much of a housekeeper. I've only lived in an actual building for a fraction of my seasons."

Jarril takes hold of the scroll and gets up, slipping it under his belt. "Well, if ya ladies excuse me, I have ta go check on my officers."  The hare takes a bow, letting his ears droop down and stnads back up again.  There he turns around and heads out.