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#1 2018-12-17 18:44:41

Henry the Poet
Registered: 2017-05-04
Posts: 45

The Abbot & The Poet OR In Loving Memory of Leon - Redwall Log


The Great Hall


-Henry, Bird Bard
-Benar, Abbot of Redwall

    It is snowing, heavy flakes drifting and whirling out of the sky to land on the abbey, on the lawn and battlements of the great Red Walls of the Abbey. The Abbot is standing in the open doorway watching the snow fall with a soft smile on his muzzle as he takes a moment to rest from his job and just enjoys the peace of a quiet evening of Snowfall.

       Through the gate hops the form of a bird. It appears to be a sparrow with a satchel. The fowl hops along at a slow, wiry pace before he stops in front of the door. “Salutations, Abbotworm,” says Henry, “Has been longtime, has it not?”

      Benar peers down over his glasses at the sparrow, “Good dayum to you Henrysparra, has been seasons turning since last I saw you,” he says, lapsing into the Sparra tongue, “Welcome back to the Redwormhouse.”

      The black-throated sparrow look up at the abbey for a moment. His feathers are covered with snow and left wing is wrapped in a bandage. The poet looks back to the squirrel. “To youum welcome, abbotworm, I give muchthanks,” he says. The sparra looks glances around and then asks plaintively, “Gotum you room for a coldsparra?”

      Benar steps back so the sparraow can pass him and head inside, “The abbey is always open to friends and visitors Henry,” he tucks his hands into his sleeves, “What happened to your wing? It is unlike you to have to walk on in to join us.”

       “Muchthank Abbotworm,” say Henry gratefully. The bard hops inside the abbey and perches himself on the back of one of the many chairs. He stares for a moment at the window of Martin before he speaks. “Do youm remeber Leon Abbotworm?” asks the sparrow.

    Benar says, “Of course I knew Leon,” he sighs sadly, “He was one of my greatest friends,” he flicks his ears and sways his tail from side to side gently, “He is no longer with us... I miss his wisdom alot.”

    “So do I,” says the poet. He pauses and then turns to face Benar, “In seasons past,” explains the sparra, “I realized that the sparra needum a healer, one turn to fixheal like abbeyworms. So, meum go to Master Leon and ask him to train Henry in the healing arts. What youum think he sayum? ‘Youum sparra, you can no be healer’?   

       Benar smiling quietly the Abbot settles down in his chair before the fire, outside the snow continues to fall softly blanketing Mossflower, “I think Brother Leon would sya, you’um smart sparra, I teach you all need know.”

       “Exactly right!” exclaims the minstrel, “He no care Henry Sparra! He teachum him best he can dispite no wormpaws! But then...” the Black-throated bird stops for a moment and looks away, “But then,” he says softly, “He died.” The saprrow falls silent again and then continues, “After that, I thought that I would never heal again. Leonmouse was my one and only teacher, meum could not stand the thought of healing without him. ‘Whoum will teach me,’ I cried, ‘who will guide me now that Leon is gone!?’ But I had a feeling, it was almost as if the sprite of my master was calling me, ‘Henrysparra,’ said the voice, ‘you must not give up, youum must go out in to the world and hone the craft which I have taught you!’ The sparra of Warbeak Loft have never liked Henry, so meum decided to trust the voice and fly away form the abbey and use what my master had taught to help all I could find. On the way back, however, meum was attacked.”

    Benar smiles and reaches down a paw as if to touch the Sparra’s back, he stops though and just holds his hand out toward him, “Leonmouse was most wise, Henry sparra is a good healersparra I can see it, a good bird...” he looks up at the rafters, “Warbeak Loft sparra are... proud warriors but not see much else. But down here in the Great Red House all are welcome as long as want.”

        The sparrow looks down at the outstretched paw for a moment. Then, he moves to clasp it in his talon. “Greatthanks Abbotworm,” says the sparrow.

    Benar holds that talon for a long moment and smiles, “You are welcome to stay with us as long as you want to Henry, you are always welcome.”

~The Abbot & The Poet End~

"Oh, dainty triolet! Oh, fragrant violet!
Oh, gentle heigho-let (or little sigh)
On sweet urbanity, though mere inanity, to touch their vanity we will rely!"
-Chorus. "P'raps If You Address The Lady Most Politely." By Gilbert&Sullivan. Princess Ida.


#2 2018-12-29 14:21:52

From: The State of Confusion
Registered: 2016-12-14
Posts: 830


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