Mouse Guard: Summer 1153

[Tyira]

Lockhaven has recovered from Midnight's siege. Though the Guard decreased by many, it is slowly returning to its original size. Gwendolyn has required every guardmouse to become a mentor and take on a tenderpaw. Almost everyone assumes she is simply acting to grow the Guard, but some think she has a greater purpose in mind. Our story begins, however, on two sides: with a few guardmice on their way to meet their tenderpaws, and a few civilians in the middle of recovery.

Guardmice:
Aralt
Gender: Male
Age: Twenty-nine
Rank: Guardmouse
Home: Pebblebrook
Cloak Color: Dark red
Fur Color: Grey-brown

Emine
Gender: Female
Age: Eighteen
Rank: Tenderpaw
Home: Grasslake
Cloak Color: Grey
Fur Color: Copper with tan underbelly

Arytiss
Gender: Female
Age: Thirty-one
Rank: Guardmouse
Home: Rustleaf
Cloak color: Golden
Fur color: Fiery red

Leiwel
Gender: Male
Age: Seventeen
Rank: Tenderpaw
Home: Copper wood
Cloak color: Light blue
Fur color: Black with silvery white on his nose and ears

Civilians
Searle
Gender: Male
Age: Fifty-four
Trade: Armorer
Home: Barkstone
Fur Color: Grey

Paer
Gender: Male
Age: Forty-three
Trade: Healer
Home: Sprucetuck
Fur color: Brown

[Woodsy]

Arytiss scampered across the lush sea grass of the Frostic Outpost. Slung across the warriors back was her beloved bow crafted by her father out of cherry wood. From a young age Arytiss had always shown more interest in weapons than her other siblings. Seeing this her mother distanced herself from the baby redfur, while her father nurtured her on in his silent way. The bow was his last push to her before she ran off the join the mouse guard. A seagulls screech from above caused the mouse to look up, but not in fear like most. To most predators Arytiss looked like a fall leaf blowing in the sea wind because of her fiery red coat and gold cloak. Taking her bow she knocked an arrow and let it loose, hitting the birds claw, frightening it away. Sighing the guard continued her run back to the outpost. Unlike most, she liked being alone this far North. She was always a little estranged to other mice, so she learned to be alone, and came to prefer it. She even began to detest company. Being stationed at Frostic after Sadie left was like a blessing, so when there was suddenly a messenger mouse at her lodging, Arytiss be came sick to her stomach.

"Arytiss the archer, you have been summoned by Gwendolyn to come back to Lockhaven to take on the mentoring of a Tenderpaw. Grab your belongings we are to leave at once," the messenger receited.

Arytiss closed her eyes and took deep breathes counting to ten. How she hated that title, just because she out scored the others in her year they gave her that cursed title. Even worse she was being yanked away from her peace and quiet! Storming pass the mouse she entered the outpost, grabbed what little things she had, and left the base sealing it tightly. The messenger had the same judging look in his eyes that Arytiss was used to, and Arytiss could tell this was going to be a long trip.

[Tyira]

((Your mouse can't be an archer, mine is! Oh well, they can be archer buddies))

Aralt took a deep breath, drew his sword, and slashed another dozen cuts in the stump. Barely had he returned home from a border patrol when they sprung this new excitement upon him. He didn't want a tenderpaw, he was quite happy as he was. Another dozen slashes were cut into the stump. Not only did Aralt despise those with less knowledge than he had, he simply did not communicate well. He was very social, mind you, he just rarely spoke. Carved above his door, even, were the words, "Actions speak louder than words." And this was a proverb he was very committed to. Most sounds he made were mere grunts. He sluggishly cut the stump again, then sheathed his sword. I need a drink, he thought, rubbing his forehead. He adjusted his cape, then walked back to the center of town. He'd only get one drink and then he'd be off.

Of course he had half a dozen and promptly passed out on the floor.

[Woodsy]

((Haha great minds think alike! Arytiss loves any weapon but her favorite is the now that's why she excels at it. She lacks social skills though, so her only redeeming quality is her fighting. That's why she became a mouse guard. If its not obvious I've thought her out well.))

Five painful days later and Arytiss was standing before the stronghold Lockhaven, it's impressive walls towering above the mice. Clutching her cloak tighter against her body, the lady mouse made her way through the opening gates. I never was one for the indoors, though the craftsmanship is outstanding, the warrior thought taking in her old residence through hard eyes. I haven't been here since my days as a Tenderpaw. I wonder if my room is still as messy as I left it. The greyfur Meritt greeted Arytiss at the gate, a look of minor shock evident on the gate controllers face. Arytiss nodded her head in acknowledgement before heading off to find Gwendolyn. The fort had a dank smell to it that the redfur never liked. It made the whole establishment feel rotted and old. Exhaling slowly Arytiss opened her eyes to find that she was completely lost. "Curse my lack of direction," she mumbled while smelling the air. Due to the same dank smell she hated it was near impossible to find her way. Behind her she heard through her one good ear the sound of footfalls, and very heavy sloppy ones at that.

[Tyira]

Aralt was out for a whole day but still needed to see the Matriarch on a certain date. He had run most of the distance due to his lateness and, feeling exhausted, went to the Lockhaven bar. Now his footfalls were heavy and his words slightly slurred, but he was alright. Ahead he saw another guardmouse and wondered if she, too, needed to see Gwendolyn. He didn't ask, though; he rarely spoke. He followed her to the entrance of Gwendolyn's office and waited beside the other guardmouse. She looked uncomfortable. Nervously Aralt smelled his breath. Way to make a first impression, Aralt,he thought,you're real great at that sort of thing. Oy, I need to get away from alcohol.

[Woodsy]

((Does your mousie have an alcohol problem? } also who will be Gwendolyn?))

Arytiss looked at the mouse next to her and was once again repulsed by the smell of mead on his breath. The redfur didn't understand how mice could drink such foul concoctions. The few times Arytiss had tried any alcoholic drink she had acted silly, which just added to her already detestable reputation. After one very embarrassing round the warrior had vowed to never drink again. Growing impatient for having to wait Arytiss pulled a dager from under her cloak and started to fiddle with the blade. She tossed it back and forth between her hands with skillful precision until the door she was waiting at opened and she dropped the blade. Before the mouse guards stood the Matriarch Gwendolyn. The redfur tried to be discrete about picking up her knife but she could feel scrutinizing eyes on her all the way through the motions. She ignores them though, as she always has.

[Tyira]

Gwendolyn welcomed them in and sat behind her desk. Aralt took a chair. "Welcome, Arytiss the archer and Aralt. You're here about the tenderpaws?" She slid each mouse a torn sheet of parchment. "These are your tenderpaws. You will go together to retrieve them." Aralt's eyes widened. Going with her? He examined his parchment. The mouse was Leiwel, a male from Copperwood. Good. Copperwood wasn't too far. Aralt stealthily moved his eyes toward Arytiss' slip. Grasslake? Great.

[Woodsy]

Arytiss examined the brittle parchment with disinterest before crumpling the paper in anger. "You can't expect me to travel with the drunk!" Arytiss exclaimed. Gwendolyn responded with a cold stare that rivaled Arytiss's own. "This is an order. If you do not follow it we shall consider it treason, and you will be stripped off your position and asked to not come back. Now do we have an understanding?" The matriarch questioned her subordinate coldy. Arytiss glared at her commander, her eyes spiteful. Turning tail she stormed out if the room, the drunk following. "Gather your things and meet by the gate. We leave by sundown," she commanded wandering off to find her bag.

[Tyira]

Aralt nodded. He went to his tiny room and gathered his things. Mead and fermented poppyseed juice were among them. He took off his dark red cape and collapsed on his bed. When he woke up, he'd get his things and meet that archer lady. This time he'd be sober. He had to try again. She was a nice lass, he was sure, but she seemed to dislike him due to his previous drunkenness. Thinking of these things, he drifted to sleep.

[Woodsy]

This is just great, just bloody great. It's practically sundown and I'm lost! If I don't get to the gate before that drunkard does he'll never let me live it down. Thes types if thoughts occupied Arytiss's mind as she scampered down the corridors of the keep. Silent as, well, a mouse moved pass doors and windows, some open and occupied while others were closed, the hinges nearly rusted shut. It is almost sad to see this fort in such a state, Arytiss thought briefly before directing her attention to the matter at hand. The warrior stopped and smelled the air trying to find a path that wasn't dank and moldy. Grinning in satisfaction, Arytiss hurried down the hall on her left and broke into the main area of the stronghold. Moving to stand by the door she looked around for her companion.

[Tyira]

Suddenly Aralt woke. He looked out the window. Late, he growled mentally. He grabbed his things and dashed to the entrance. There he saw the archer waiting. His mind exploded with a thousand curses. He stood beside her, head down, as if to say, "Sorry."

[Woodsy]

Arytiss only stared blankly at the relatively sober male mouse. Turning sharply the lady mouse made for the slowly rising gate while at the same time pulling her golden cloak over her head. "We walk through the night," she said flatly moving outside into the gathering darkness. From behind the shadows seemed to engulf her form, as much a part of her as she was of it. Arytiss continued to walk while not particularly caring if her companion was still behind her. After several hours of walking the archer heard the gentle gurgling of water up ahead. Picking up her pace the silver threads of moonlight shine brilliantly on the surface of a calm pool into which a creek flowed. She crouched down and took out an empty canteen and filled it with the glistening water. What the archer didn't notice was the pair of eyes watching her intently from above.

[Tyira]

Aralt double-checked his water supply. The only thing that was low was his mead, so he did not kneel beside the water. Suddenly he heard a noise. He quickly yanked out his sword. With his other hand he tapped Arytiss on the shoulder and pointed up.

[Woodsy]

Starting slightly Arytiss moved to snap at Aralt but saw him motion up. In the branches above them a horned owl sat, watching the mice with a predators keen interest. Slowly Arytiss moved her cherry wood bow off her back and moved to grab an arrow. At this point the owl fell swiftly from its perch, claws reaching out to grab the redfur. Quickly Arytiss knocked an arrow and drew back, firing at the beast. The owl had agility however and dodged, escaping with just a scratch. The predator continued its dive for the mice and with outstretched talons caught Arytiss,making her topple into the water.

[Tyira]

Aralt's face was that of pure surprise. He leapt into the water and dove deep to retrieve his traveling companion.