11:25 PM

Jarril is sitting down against the tavern wall, leaning against it while looking about up and down the road with a bottle in his paw.

Sieve sees Jarril, and says, "Afternoon."

Jarril blinks and nods.  "'ello."

Sieve says, "You one of them from the patrol up at the big ol' mountain?"

Jarril just nods slightly.  "Aye, what of it?"

Sieve says, "I've been meaning to find one o' you hares." He shakes the wooden paw at Jarril.

Jarril blinks and takes a swig of his bottle.  "Oh, any bally reason why?"  He looks at the squirrel with his only eye.

Sieve says, "I just wanna know why you hares seem to be croppin' up in this village like carrots ready for harvestin'."

Jarril blinks, nearly says something and mutters.  "'east he didn't say rabbit..."  He coughs and looks up.  "Anything wrong with us coming here?  We did save this village from the horde?"  His voice goes softer.  "We came because we were attacked and it was the nearest and safest place ta retreat ta and get help."

Sieve says, "Get help? Who on this earth has the strength to drive you guys out of a mountain!? Sounds more like you were the ones needin' saving."

Jarril blinks. "Who said we lost the bally mountain?!"  He frowns and shakes his head.  "If ya want ta know, it was a routine patrol that bumped into the bloodthirsters, nothing more, nothing less.  The mountain is still under the patrol control, wot!"

Brom walks into the square from the east after walking around the village for a bit, he perks his small ears as he listens a to Jarril's comment and then looks to the young squirrel, smirking a little. He walks over to then and nods, "G'Day mates."

Sieve says, "Ah. Well, s'just that I thought that a one-eyed hare would stay at home." Obviously he didn't have too prope rof an upbringing. he then looks to Brom, and says, "G'day." He holds out the wooden C-Shaped paw to shake.

Jarril frowns and doesn't reply to that one but wriggles his ears in frustration.

Brom looks at the paw offered and awkawardly shakes it briefly before looking to Jarril, "What's got your sail in a bunch mate?" The otter asks with a grin.

Jarril looks at the squirrel.  "Him but it doesn't matter."  The hare just goes back to swigging the contents from within the bottle.

Sieve says, "Hey, don't get your ears in a knot on my account."

Jarril grins.  "I won't, don't worry.  Got more important things ta think about."

Brom smirks at the hare then looks to Sieve. "And who are you then?"

Sieve says, "Sieve Onepaw the Squirrel." he pronounces squirrel 'skweerul'.

Jarril goes back to drinking the bottle, before placing it down and taking something out of his backpack, pulling out some biscuit, munching them.

Sieve also takes something out of his pack, but what he takes out happens to be a flask of nutbrown ale, which he starts drinking.

Brom nods, "Good to meet you. I'm Brom Stormalong.

Sieve says, "Well, Brom, you like a good story? 'Cause I know one that's ahunnerd percent true: the story of how I lost my left paw."

Jarril blinks and speaks.  "Someone cut it off?"

Brom glances around as the others just swig and eat then looks back At sieve's statement. "Why not, don't have anything better to do at the moment."

Sieve says, "No, actually. I was in a tree couple seasons back, when the earth starts doing the dibbun reel, and it falls down. My paw got trapped, and it broke. Was stuck for days, till this great hawk comes at me, and took me sword, flying off, severing me paw. After a few days I cut out this wood thing, and travelled around a bit till I got here."

Sieve packs back up, and says, "Anyhow, it's gettin' late, and dinner don't cook itself." He waves goodbye, and walks away.

Brom arches a brow at the story and as the squirrel quickly leaves. "Interesting story."

Jarril blinks and nods.  "Well, yeah..."  He drinks from his bottle and rests his head on the wall.  "Though why the resentment of us being here I don't know.  Wouldn't think season or two ago we saved their bally tails!"  Shouting in the direction of where the squirrel had gone.

Brom shrugs, "Perhaps he doesn't live in the town?"

Jarril frowns.  "Maybe so, maybe not.  Had a lot of that wherever I've gone."  The hare takes out something else from his backpack and unwraps it, sniffs it and shrugs.  "Oh good, another hotroot scone.  I tell ya, he uses that stuff way ta much."  The hare bites into it however.

Brom hms, "Surprised to hear that." He then looks to the scone "Ah, you can never use too much hotroot. Have a pouch of hotroot pepper on my belt here since most cooks don't seem to like putting it on their food where I go."

Jarril blinks and looks at the otter.  "We have an old otter cook at the mountain.  Uses the stuff way ta much sometimes though.  But no doubt ya lot are way into it however."  He pauses and munches on the scone anyways.  "Speaking of which, we've not had a party of otters do their summer run to this area in many a season.  That was another thing I read up on once from records long gone.  Don't even think there is a skipper anymore in mossflower..."

Brom chuckles and shrugs, "Well I suppose hares just don't have the taste for hotroot." He then hms, "Actually I've heard from a few river dogs I know that the Camp Willow crew has actually grown back quite a bit."

Jarril blinks.  "Ah, that's down south isn't it?  Not heard anything from down in ol' southward.  Usually where most of the vermin get pushed down ta though."

Brom shakes his head, "Camp Willow? No it's right along the River Moss."

Jarril blinks.  "Oh, it must've moved then, would've thought it was situated south from here."

Brom shakes his head, "Well as far as I know it's always been on the Moss." He then looks about. "Anyway, I'm going to walk around some more. See you around mate."