Housepets!

Owain nodded and smiled. "Bore da's good f'r a day or the... fore noon part've a day," he explained. "Aft'r th' noon's Prynhawn Da - which is 'ard'r t' say. Early dark's Noswaith dda. Da, 've course meanin' good."

Sara mused over the question for a long while. Sometimes she even reacted as if she figured it out, but then stopped and went back to thinking. Eventually though the vixen just scratched her head and smiled sheepishly
" I......don't think i know what that is" she admitted

"You mean 'morning'?" Brum suggests, nodding as Owain introduces her to the other greetings. She attempts to recite them back afterwards but her tongue trips over the foreign sounds so that they're barely recognisable. Still, at least she's trying!
"How did I do?" she asks when she's done.

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"Do you want to have a guess anyway?" the abbess invites.

"Bet'r'n I us'd to do, M'Cariad," Owain said, smiling before leaning in and repeating the greetings for Brum to try again. It was a good way to spend a wet evening.

"well, if I have to guess....perhaps it's secrets?" she asked , knowing it was a wild guess

Brum shares Owain's enjoyment as she warms herself by the fire. She opens her mouth to repeat the greetings again when she spots a movement in the shadows further down the road. Before she can react though the movement resolves itself into a figure she knows well.
"Simon!" she calls excitedly, opening her arms and hugging the vole who's just cannoned into her.
"Well, I'll be blessed! If'n it ain't good ol' Brumble!" the greying creature grins, hugging the squirrel tightly.
"Fancy meeting you here! How've you been?"
"Good, good. Trampin' on as always! You're lookin' good! Much taller than when last I saw you!"
"Well, it has been what, four years? Five?"
"Six, I think." he replies, scratching his muzzle.
"Six! Good grief! Time has flown!"
"Aye, that it 'as indeed, missy! Why, I was just sayin' to meself, just the other day, 'Why, Simon, old lad, 'tis many a year since you last clapped eyes on Redwall, an' that must mean 'tis 'igh time you did again!' So I packed up me camp, I did, not that I have a lot to pack, an' went walkin' up the road. Then an awful storm starts a-bangin' an' a'crashin' over'ead an' dumpin' buckets o' water all down my back so I says to myself 'Well, Simon, old boy, you'd better find somewhere dry to pass the night an' may'aps summat nice an' 'ot to to eat.' No sooner 'ad I said that to meself then I sees light ahead through the trees. 'A campfire,' I says to meself, 'What luck! May'aps they'll be good creatures an' let me share their fire and tent. Not like them rogues what invited me in but tried druggin' an' robbin' me two seasons back, but good, 'onest creatures.' So I walks up the road another 'undred yards an' lo! It's me ol' chum Brumble an' a few friends! An' 'ere I be!"
"Here you be indeed! Come in out of the rain, quickly, and warm yourself!" The squirrel helps the vole under the tarp and off with his backpack and the damp creature spreads his cloak near the fire so it can dry and puts his well-worn staff on the ground beside him. That and a sharp dagger at his belt are his only weapons and his clothes are somewhat battered from years on the road.
"Everyone, this is Simon Banks, the traveller. He's an old friend of Redwall and visits us from time to time. He always has the most wonderful tales to tell! Simon, this is Peter, Rhys, Calder, Bradley, Fleta, Cara, Geoffrey, and Owain." the squirrel points to the vole, the other squirrels, the ferrets, the shrews and the mouse in turn.

~~~~~~~~
"Sorry, Sara, that's not it. The correct answer was 'silence'." Edlyn apologises. It's not long before the competition is down to the final two players, a hedgehog and an otter, and after a gruelling slog the hedgehog emerges the victor. By the time the competition is over the cooks are beginning to load the tables with an array of pies and salads and the hungry abbey dwellers move around the tables, the hares jostling for prime positions and everyone else just sitting wherever the fancy takes them.
"Care to sit with me for dinner, Sara?" the abbess invites.

"Yay," Peter said after his heart came back down out of his throat and settled back in his chest. The sudden arrival of an old... he could hardly call him a friend... acquaintance? Yeah. It had taken him by surprise, was all. "Hello, sir," he said politely.
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Owain moved his hand off the hilt of his short sword as Brum squeaked her introduction and he stood, smiling. "Owain Ap Daffydd," he said, holding out an empty hand in welcome. "Trav'll'r from th' Marches."

"oh yes please" Sara replied happily

"Ah, th' Marches! Lovely part o' th' world, tha'! Been all over it, so I 'ave! What part o' th' Marches, exactly?" Simon asks, shaking the mouse's proffered paw after greeting Peter warmly.

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The abbess leads Sara to the special chair reserved for abbots and abbesses and indicates that Sara should sit beside her.
"What kind of pie do you fancy trying first, Sara?" she asks.

"From th' Wyeside," Owain said with a bare hint of reluctance. "Not been 'ome in some time, though. Still see it as it were. Me' Da' workin' on th' carts an Bryn the smith makin' pots'n'swords a' bairns play'n th' Duffryn... uh, fields." He gave Simon a look he hoped didn't need translating as they shook handpaws.

"em.....I think some apple pie would be good" Sara replied hesitantly

"Ah." Simon nods knowingly. "'Twere a lovely village indeed. Bu' my, you've a firm paw. You've th' feel of adventure about you. Not just tha' though. If I may?" Simon takes Owain's paw in both of his, turning it palm up and running his fingers over it.
"A paw says a lot about a creature, I find. Yours is strong and steady. Calloused but not rugged. Don't seem older'n th' rest o' you either. You've seen your share of hard work in your travels but it ain't been too 'ard. You're a tradescreature, not a labourer, though no stranger to th' plow, I wager. An' you're evenly built. You're capable with a weapon but more accustomed to workin' than fightin'. Am I right?"

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"Sure. I think you'll like our apple pie. I know I do. Would you like some meadowcream on that?" Edlyn asks, serving her guest before herself.

"Quite some grip," Owain admitted, "an' you're not a bad read'r. W'eelmak'r by trade. An' you ought t' check me traed.... feet. Ha' they got some lines!"

"yes please" Sara answered happily. After a moment, she decided to start the conversation again "Abbess, may I ask something ?"

"Heh, I'll bet they do. Most feetpaws that've seen their share o' travellin' do. Aaah." Simon agrees as he seats himself. "They're usually too dirty to get a good readin' though, hence why I stick to handpaws. I wonder how good a reader you are, Mr. Owain."

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"Of course, child. What do you wish to know?" the abbess replies as she scoops meadowcream onto Sara's pie.

"From wha' M'cariad Brum says, yer a trav'll'r. Been far'n'wide bu' from clos'r t''ere," Owain said with a small grin. "Y'prefer wit t' weapon which is why y've not come in wi' one out. From th' talk ye've walk'd wi' cwningen... uh... Radish..? No... Rabbits." e paused for a moment. "A th' ports've you ever met trad'rs from over water? Wi' their fruits'n things?". He did his best to describe an Orange. "Thing's round wi' a thick, no' red col'r y'gotta get through. Breaks into bits inside..."

"Do people from redwall go outside on long journeys often ?" she asked, seemingly thinking about something

"Aye, right on all counts 'ceptin' one. What makes you think me staff don't make a good weapon in a pinch? An' aye, I've been to th' ports an to Salamandastron an' even across th' water to th' Green Isle. I've 'ad oranges too. Never developed a taste for them, meself. Too sour an' sweet at the same time. What about yerself, Ffrind* Owain?" Simon asks, hinting that he's understood the mouse's language, including his affectation towards Brum.

~~~~~~~~
"Of course. All creatures are free to come, stay and go as they please. Many Redwallers have become travellers and many travellers have settled down and become Redwallers." Edlyn answers.
"Would you like some elderberry cordial? I'm rather partial to it."


*friend

"And there's me, never having left the abbey," Peter muttered to himself.
"Oren," Owain breathed, "Tha's the one. Al'aes 'ard, rememb'rin' the name've something no-one else's ever 'eard of!" He sat down again. "Most've mine's been in the Orllewin... west inna March's, a bit've th' Green Isle an' past Shrewsbury. Long time wand'ring."

"Thank you , I would like to try some" Sara replied "Have you ever gone outside mam?"

"Don't feel bad." Brum whispers to Peter. "Lots of creatures have never left the abbey. There's nothing to be ashamed of about that."

"'Ave you been far up North?" Simon asks Owain.

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"Oh, many years ago. I've made a trip or two to Salamandastron. I fear I'm too old to go far these days though." Edlyn answers, pouring a dash cordial for Sara.
"Try that and if you like it then I'll fill your cup."

"North? Far's an area tha's all freshwat'r seas." Owain chuckled. "I know makes 'em lakes bu' they're big'r'n the eye c'n see from side t'side an' th' loc'ls tell there's more beyond. A world'a lakes big as seas iseem'd borin' way back so I turn'd 'round."
((The lake district, or analogous.)

Hlaoroo wrote: "Oh, may years ago. I've made a trip or two to Salamandastron. I fear I'm too old to go far these days though." Edlyn answers, pouring a dash cordial for Sara.
"Try that and if you like it then I'll fill your cup."

"Thank you. Is Salamanda...er.....is the land you mentioned far from here?" she asked , taking a sip

"You ain't much of a sailor then, matey?" Simon asks with a gleam in his eye.

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"It's about a week's easy walk due west. Four or five days or at a quick march." Edlyn answers."Are you thinking of going there? And how do you like the cordial?

"I do prf'r ground 'neath m'paws," Owain admitted. "An' you, M'cariad," he asked, turning to Brum. "Air, b'chance?"

"it was nice, thank you" Sara replied with a smile, staring at her reflection in the drink "as for traveling.....I don't know to be honest mam". she said, somehow finding herself smirking.

"Owain," says Brum with a raised eyebrow, "Should I be standing on air then something will have gone extremely wrong and I would hope you were below to catch me."

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Edlyn fills Sara's goblet with cordial and returns to her repast.
"Would you mind if I asked what you are finding amusing, child?" she queries.

"I...." Sara muttered , confused by the smirk on her own muzzle "I'm not sure Mam, it just felt.....I don't know" she said sheepishly

Owain spread his arms wide. "I'll al'aes be there t'catch you, m'cariad," he offered brightly. "An' I were meanin' th' flying 'tween trees bit."

"It's okay. Perhaps it was a memory returning. Don't force it. It'll come in its own time." Edlyn encourages.
"Why don't we discuss something else in the mean time? Is there anything about myself or the abbey you'd like to know?"

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"Oh, that bit. That's not so much flying as it is falling with style." Brum grins.

"well....." Sara thought for a moment, the blurred out "how long have you been the abbess ?"