Author:
Quickbow (JJ, better title soon.)
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Date Posted: 15:49:16 10/09/06 Mon
Prologue
It began with a sound, the cry of a wild eagle hunting its prey over the rocky terrain, the sound of a whimpering infant, bouncing off the immense mountains sides with a soft echo. They had not thought of the possible danger and delay of an infant, thinking he would immediately become like them. He would not. Quickbow was only an innocent babe, not meant for the wild world of a wanderer.
“We should head to Redwall Abbey; they’ll know how to take care of him.” Scott Longears was the sensible type, a quick learner, and an excellent bow-beast. He had not been prepared for a baby, saying to his wife, Stephney Longears, that he would be a hindrance to them, them being nomads, with no home or habits.
“Yes, we should, I suppose it would be best for the child.” Stephney was not thrilled on the idea of leaving her babe to another animal to care for; she had wanted a baby in the first place. She was reluctant to listen to her husband’s wise judgment, attempting to make him believe that they could care for him on the road. She thought it would all work out somehow, even though she knew in her heart of hearts that it was impossible. She didn’t want to give up hope, at least not yet.
“I think we could manage with him, you’re a good fighter, and we can forage for food easy enough. We could always stay at Redwall, they seem nice enough, and it would be a lot safer for young Quickbow here.”
Scott snorted, knowing well that even she didn’t mean what she said. He admired her loyalty, but it was just not the plan of action to take. They were adventurers, travelers of the long road. They had seen northern mountains, southernwoods, and western seas. They had fought it battles, saved each other, and never slowed down.
“We have always been adventurers, are you saying we should give up our life’s dream for one small infant? The folks at Redwall would take care of him better anyways. We know nothing of such sorts; we are not the right ones for him. He would grow quickly tired of roots and berries, water when we find it, and sleep when you drop. No, he must go to Redwall. He will probably be coming for us, too. ”
Stephney shivers, remembering the encounter with the evil beast. He had attacked them with a small pack of vermin, but she and Scott had driven them off with their superior long ranged skills with a bow and arrow. They had shot the stoat’s eye out with a lucky shot, and she knew he would be after them, with an even stronger force, and revenge on his heart. It was no use arguing with her husband at this point, there was no way to change his mind. She loved him, but her opinions differed about many thoughts and issues. “We march to Redwall, I presume.”
“Yes, dear. We should reach Redwall before winter, and stay for a season. After that, we leave him to them, and go back on the road.” The two grown hares jog walk carefully over the rocks, continuing their long journey south to the Abbey.
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