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Mossa Silverback, who else?
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Date Posted: 08:07:17 08/19/04 Thu
"Sophia, dearest, where are you off to?" Bront, an aging male badger, watched his elderly wife hastily packing a haversack. She looked greatly distressed.
"Bront, I got word, my brother, back at Salamandastron, is dying. Please let me go, Bront, I have to!"
Bront nodded. "Of course, but what if something happens to you? Where will me and Mossa be then?"
Sophia looked over at the sleeping badger cub in her cradle, blissfuly unaware of thier conversation.
"I'm sorry Bront, but he's my brother! I have to be with him!"
Bront slowely reached out and brought his wife's chin up for a fare well kiss.
"Go on, dearest, but be careful!"
Sophia hugged Bront. "Oh yes, yes, of course!"
"Where's Nanny?" Mossa, the baby badger, poked her head through the door.
Bront stopped puzzling over one of Sophia's cook books ot look at his little grandaughter. Her parents, warlike badgers, where off fighing in the Northlands. Bront and Sophia had insisted that they keep Mossa, not wanting her to have a life full of war and tragedy. She was a beautiful badgeer cub, slimmer than most badger with a silky silver back (like most of the family, hence the last name) and different colored eyes, one green, on brown.
"Er, she... went ot visite her brother."
"When she be's back?"
"Um, in a couple days?' he hoped she would be back then!
Mossa looked horrified. "Dat mean's you be's cooking?"
"Yes, grandpa is going to cook!"
Mossa wrinkled her snout. "I fink I go upstairs and pway."
Bront watched her waddle up the steps. "Huh, what's wrong with my cooking? Aren't acorns in hotroot soupd supposed to taste /good/?"
Mossa was lying on the woven carpet, flipping through a picture book.
"Dat dinner tasted funny, gwampa."
Bront looked idignant and was about ot argue, when the door was thrown rudely open.
Winter snow and wind swirled into the house. Bront squinted and saw the figure of a weasle, or maybe a ferret or a stoat, standing in the doorway. It was followed by seven more.
"Okay, grab the food 'n' leave."
"Oh now, what's the meaning of this?!" bellowed Bront, getting out of his armchair. One swipe from a weasles' club sent him sprawling on the ground.
The vermin started to raide the pantry, snatching the food which the family had worked so hard to get.
"Hey, you gets outta dere!"
"Yowch!"
Mossa had just snatched her set of plunger arrows, one of which was attatched to a stoat's back. Even at a young age, the badger was already a pretty good shot. Some day, her aim would be deadly.
"Arrg, the little maggit, she shot me!" The angered stoat slashed a claw across Mossa's face, making her fall, crying to the floor.
The stoat yanked the plunger off his back. "Grab the loot, we're gettin' outta here!"
"Gwampa, gwampa, wake up!" Bront slowely gained concoiusness to Mossa shaking him.
"Mossa... Mossa! You're eye's bleeding!"
"It hurt."
Bront gripped her shoulders and looked into her face. His stomach twisted. Her green eye had a scar running across it and was bleeding badly.
"Come on, Mossa, we'll wash it out in the stream."
"Mmm, nothin' like good ol' 'ot root soup on a day like today, no sir!" Redwall's Skipper of otters chugged a thurmous of an otter's favorite food, hotroot soup.
He choked on a gulp of soup as he looked at the horizon. He could see two shapes, badger, he could tell, one older and one a young dibbun. They where staggering through the snow. The little one had a rag rapped around her left eye, like a makeshift eye patch.
"Ahoy there, you look as though you're avin' a bit o' trouble? Anything I can do for ye?"
Bront looked warily up. He was relieved to see an otter bounding across the snow towards them.
"Yes!" he called back "Our house was raided by vermin, and my grand daughter's hurt, can you help us?"
"I certainly can, matey, you can follow me ter Redwall abbey!"
Redwall Abbey! Bront and Mossa had heard stories, but had never visited the legendary place. If anywhere, this was the best place to get help>
"Bront!! Bront, it's me, Sophia!"
Bront spun around from watching the Infirmy Keeper, a young, blind, rabbit named Lambsbaine apply some healing herbs to Mossa's eye.
"Sophia! What are you doing here?"
"Bront, I got lost on my way back form Salamandastron. I stopped here for a night. Oh, what happened to Mossa?"
Bront related the story to his wife. Sophia was horrified.
"They ransacked our house? Our lovely little house? And hurt a young dibbun like Mossa? Why those heartless... ooh! If only I could get them, they'd be sorry..."
"Er, yes, Sophia dear. But we need to think about other things, like what will we do now?"
"Stay here! Bront, they don't have a badgermother right now! You know, badgermothers, we read about them? Yes? Well, I could be the badgermother! And Mossa, er, Mossa? Where'd she get to?"
"Dat a vewy nice bow you got's dere. Me gives it a twy?"
"Sure you can!"
Bront chuckled. Mossa was showing her bow to some other dibbuns.
"She looks happy." beamed Sophia "Why don't we, Bront?"
Bront looked up at a large tapestry with a warrior mouse in the center, vermin fleeing him in every direction.
"Ah, why not?" murmered Bront.
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Mossa's /New/ Bio, as the last one was to sad...