07:06 PM

Under the gaze of the sun, Major Jarril is out and about a bit away from the mountain as he scans over the horizon with one paw over his eyes to keep the sunlight from shining in.  Feeling his short sword hit the side of his leg slightly with the breeze coming in from the sea, the hare takes a deep breath and smiles.

Spending nearly all his time in the infirmary, Buck was finally stuck on patrol duty. The hare is not at all happy about it, judging by the firm frown placed on his lips. But the hare had picked up the task without a grunt of protest. He currently weaves around the dunes, scouting and making good and sure that the area is safe. Buck pops his head over a bit of sand and squints as he spies a beast on the beach. Buck relaxes, recognizing it as a hare. The healer wanders down from the dunes, his paws clasped behind his back. "Hullo, Majah!" He greets as he evens up with the other, throwing up a smart salute.

Jarril turning his head towards Buckthorn the major nods his head.  "'ello Buck.  Surprised ya came out from the infirmary.  So on patrol then?"  The major turning his head back to the view of the sea.  "So what's ya orders?"  He asks quietly, having no intention at all on stating why he's out at the moment.

Buckthorn shifts his weight, feeling his large feet sinking slightly in the sand. He lets his salute fall, his paw automatically going to connect with the other behind his back. "Yes Sah. Jus' ah quick scout o' th' land. Makin' sure th' blinkin' area is safe an' all that." He explains with a nod, his eyes roaming over to the ocean. "Typical day pah'trol, wot? Report 'nythin' unusual back t' th' mountain." Buck glances over for a moment. "Wot're y'doin' out here, Sah?"

Jarril nods his head.  "Well, I've been here and I know there isn't anything about at the moment.  I think the bally vermin are learning ta keep away, wot."  He keeps looking out at the sea in front of him and replies back.  "Privilege of rank, doncha know.  That and I wanted ta come out and check on things myself.  Like ta keep fit, wot."  Giving Buckthorn a side glance he chuckles.  "Don't want ya healers on my back.  Besides I am off duty t'day.  Recruits are with another major for other training."

Buckthorn slides his lips over his teeth in a smile. "Good good. Then i wont 'ave t' stay out 'ere long." He throws a few quick glances up and down the beach. "'Bout bally time, wot? T'was right sick o' those vermin throwin' chaps in th' 'firmary." Buckthorn comments, rollign back and forth on his feet casually. "Actually, I wouldn't know, Majah." The healer retorts with a quick grin. "But must be nice doin' wot y'please... an' yes... we can't 'ave pudgy officahs, no sah!"

Jarril snerks.  "Good choice on agreeing with me, wot."  Frowning slightly.  "Ya know, I've been thinking on getting a few officahs back into training.  Can't have them keep getting injured.  It's starting to blemish our nice record of being fierce fightahs."

Buckthorn winks over at the Major and chuckles. "Oh rather, Sah. M'not daft." He says jokingly and shrugs. The hare perks his good ear up, the half bent one scanning the rest of the area for sounds. "Aye, well, Majah... I do ah bit o' trainin' mehself... i cin work up ah nice program fer 'em t' follow, iffen yeh want." He offers, his paw coming up to scratch behind an ear.

Jarril nods slowly.  "Well, how's the new lot coping with the infirmary sort of things?  Any problems on that one?"  Starting to move off again with a walk back towards the mountain, nodding for Buckthorn to follow.  "No rush going back though I think.  Nothing bally well ta report, then again I ain't sure about it being ta quiet though, but I take it, no matter how long it lasts."

Buckthorn clicks his teeth, his eyes lingering on the shimmering ocean surface. "Oh, not so bad, Sah. Young... thick 'eaded... but nothin' past that." He glances up as the Major starts to walk, the healer dutifully following just slightly behind. "Knowin' th' life o' the Long Pah'trol, Sah, it aint bally gonna last very long. M'sure yeh'll be up t'yer ears in pirate scum by th' summer, wot!" He gives a slim chuckle at his own little joke.

Jarril laughs loudly.  "Ah well, it be a jolly well nice party then this summer.  I rather have mah troops fighting sea corsairs than I would have them complaining on nothing ta do than moan about the next meal time, wot."  The major allowing the officer to come up alongside him.

Buckthorn wrinkles up his nose, though a smile is still on his lips. "Ah, you send 'em up t' me, Sah... I'll feed 'em all th' bally seaweed broth they cin hold!" His eyes roam up to the mountain and he twitches his whiskers. "They won' be complainin' fer long 'bout meals af'er that, wot wot?" The healer hooks his paws on his belt and scoots up another step or two as they walk. "But it must be gettin' bad, Majah. Even this ol' healer is feeling th' want o' ah blade betwit meh paws..."

Jarril nods slowly.  "Aye, been seasons now since that horde came here, hasn't it?"  Placing his paws behind his back while walking up one of the dunes.  "Well, can't blame them, they keep on trying but they're a bit thick and wet behind the ears.  Just come strolling down, no plan and end up starving.  No wonder we can beat them time and again, wot.  Vermin don't plan things wot and when they do they're bad planners for a start."  He smiles on that one.  "But ya right, they come back once they licked their paws and the thought of treasure and greed overwhelms them again."

Buckthorn gives a few cautious glances to the dune side, but see's hide nor hair of any beast. "Not like th' good ol' days, eh? Though... I 'pose they weren't that smart even then, wot? I would have bet meh right ear that there would be hordes o' the sea an' land scum when word got out that th' Mountain don't 'ave ah badger lord.. But seems that they jus' don' care." Buck smiles along with Jarril and rolls his shoulders.  "Y'know... I do wonder where they get tharr blasted stories 'bout th' mountain being' filled up wid gold an' jewels. Now, don' be takin' my word, Majah, but I b'aint ne'er seen ah 'are wid a golden crown. wot wot?"

Jarril shakes his head slightly.  "I wouldn't know any of that.  Never had the privilege of being the badger lord's right or left paw hare, so ta speak."  Nodding his head thoughtfully as he stops on top of the sand dune.  "Colonel Earblade may but I doubt he say one way or the other but yeah, I've never seen anything like that either."  Looking about around him again, the major smiles.  "Not that matters with vermin, they never believe it, they're too bally well strung up on greed that they kill their own parents ta get what they wanted."

Buckthorn lets his gaze fall, his eyes watching as his feet turn up all odd sort of patterns in the sand. "Ne'er met th' Badger Lord... but meh brudder did. Ol' Burdock." He grutns softly, trying hard not to walk at an odd angle as he watches the sand. Finally he raises his head and turns to look over at Jarril. "S'wot bally separates us wid th' vermin. Ah good decent sense o' morals... well, that an' th' smell." He wrinkles his nose u at the very thought.

Jarril gazes over at something for a moment as though there was a form there but it breaks off to show it was only seagulls resting on another dune.  "Ah, they're not so bad.  Heard tales from my patter at one point about another tribe a bit north of Redwall."  The major pauses.  "Flitchaye I think they're called.  From the tales I think I'd rather smell a normal vermin, thank yah very much."  The major starts to carefully make his way down the dune.

Buckthorn whips is head over as the Major seems to notice something, but he looks away when nothing is said. "S'that so, Sah? Well... no matter. I wouldn't let tharr nasty ol' hides in meh clean infirmary, no sah!" He snorts very gently. The hare leans his bulk back as they make their trip down the side of the dune, trying to keep his balance. "Blegh. Rather ruddy beasts, really. Don' see 'ow they live long 'nough t' reproduce!" As he hits more even ground, Buck straightens back up. "But 'nough 'bout such things. Don' get t' talk t'yeh much, Sah. 'Ow's life in yer division?"

Jarril ear twitches as he replies back.  "As good as any other division.  Bit of a scruff here and there with disagreements ta sort out."  He stops and looks about again.  "Well, we're fine.  IT's the new lot that worry me, but then they get into it I hope.  They soon learn the ways of looking after each backs, I think."  Making to the top of the dune, he looks about and then settles down to sitting on the sand.  "Well, then."  He says.  "How's life in the infirmary?"  The major pulling open his small side pack as he pulls a scone out.

Buckthorn watches the major for a moment, then settles down himself, only a few paces away. Buck turhs his eyes and ears around once more, just in case. "oh? Are they really bein' all that much trouble?" He asks with a dull interest. "I try t' keep t' mehself as much as I can, y'see." He explains quickly, glancing over to Jarril. "S'not so bad... get lot's o' th' younger ones in now, af'er they saw that boxin' contest... they like t' think that it's ah good idea t' try out some o' the moves."

Jarril nods slowly as he munches.  "Yeah but."  The major looks about again.  "How much would ya trust a new recruit on a patrol if its their first time in an situation."  He smiles.  "Ah well, those that learn fast live.  Anyways, most of the training has sent many ta ya anyways.  Surprised on how much damage blunt wooden swords do.  They're so committed."  Chuckling.

Buckthorn crosses his arms and gives the Major a wry smile. "So that's /you/ sendin' 'em my way wid bonks on th' heads an' splinters in th' paw?" He accuses, give a small smile to the other hare. "Well, s'not a problem Majah. M'jus' ah 'ealer, af'er all. S'what m'tharr for, wot?" He figures and leans back, propping himself up with his paws. "Esh. They'll learn. If I can? They can... though I 'member meh fellow leverets bein' right jokesters. Y'know th' lil' rots stole meh clothes while I was in th' bath th' other day? Y'know... y'feed 'em one helpin' o' seaweed broth an' they 'ate you forever."

Jarril pulls a face and replies back.  "Ta right as well.  I'd do that m'self if I had any seaweed broth.  Ugh, disgusting thing evah!"  Looking as though he would throw away the remaining piece of the scone left in his paw, the major shrugs and scoffs it.  "Ya'll as bad as those I've heard about at the abbey, wot.  Seaweed broth indeed."  The major shakes his head.  "So what they do ta get that sort of punishment?"

Buckthorn chuckles and eyes the scone, about to be very surprised if Jarril threw it aside. "Oh, b'aint that bad, Majah!" He pouts, pursing out his bottom lip. "An' m'ten times nice than those Abbey folk... nettle broth? Now /thats / ridiculous!" Buck sneers. "Ah... they get t' clean out th' sick basins. Don't 'ave t' go into what those are for, do I?"

Jarril gives Buckthorn a look and then wags a finger at him.  "Now, sah.  If ya thinking on making me ill then I'll make sure that the leveret's feed ya seeweed broth six times a day."  Grinning, the major pulls out a flask and gently sips his water.  "So no, ya don't have ta explain that one ta me, wot."

Buckthorn arches his brow as he gets a finger wraggles at him. The buck holds a slightly amused look on his face. "Ah... a'right, Sah! M'not going int' details!" He snuffles his nose lightly at the prospect of having to eat his own broth. The hare looks up at the sun and sighs. "Well, Sah, I need t' be gettin' that report back t'Majah Rahier. You be takin' care o' yerself, Sah!" He says as he stands, throwing another salute up. "G'day!" He turns and starts off the dunes, heading back to the mountain.

Jarril nods.  "Aye."  Watching Buckthorn go.