Down the Rabbit Hole
Down the Rabbit Hole
Players:
- Zinnia
- Mirabella
The Orchard
You stand in a sort of verdant sanctuary where the sun is filtered through leaves and thus comes out to be a much softer light, one that's a little more manageable. At least, more manageable than the comparatively harsh light of the more open entryway and a pond area almost completely devoid of large, shade-giving plants that this orchard has in careless abundance. A soft covering of moss and grass finds itself beneath the trees, only serving to add to the quiet comfort of the whole scene.
The stately flora has come alive with youthful blossoms. Flowers of all shades of pastel line the trees, bushes, and ground. Poking around the pink and yellow petals, some fruit has begun to form, peppering the orchard with green apricots and plums and unripe pears and peaches. The air is full of pollen that tickles the nose and dirties clean habits. After a rain, rivulets of water trickle around tree trunks, irrigating the flore before draining into the pond.
Zinnia is sitting under a tree updating one of the journals she keeps. One for herself and one for the abbey. Beside her is an ink bottle and she has a couple scrolls and a quill pen. She also has a cup of some sort of tea, smells like mint tea.
Wandering through the orchard in the early morning sunlight is Mirabella. The rays of the sun that peak over the rosy crenellations filter softly through the leaves and shine down on the mousemaid, causing her headfur to shimmer in waves that ripple with each footstep. Her dress billows gently around her ankles as she goes, gazing distractedly up into the trees, their flowers replaced by the promise of fruit in a few months. Bright green eyes catch a glimpse of Zinnia up ahead, and the mousemaid's face breaks into a wide grin. "Sister Zinnia!" she calls, her paw shooting upward to wave enthusiastically.
Zinnia looks up from her writings and smiles. She finishes whatever it is and closes a book and places in the satchel and puts away the scrolls and ink bottle and quill pen."’Ello, I was just out here catching up on some writing, gets stuffy inside the building sometimes"
Hurrying over with quick, short steps, Mirabella nods cheerily. "Oh yes, it's terrible in the summer, it gets so stuffy and humid and hot. It's much nicer to be outdoors at a time like this." She takes a moment to breathe in deeply, releasing it in a contented sigh. "I just love the mornings. The sun is so wonderful and warm." Distracted eyes turn their attention back to the badger. "Did Brother Friar find you yesterday? He had some new books he wanted you to take a look at. Well, old books, anyway. But newly found."
Zinnia shakes her head "I have not talked to Friar Lacota yet, sorry I guess I been busy past couple days"
Mirabella 'hmm's softly, looking down and worrying at her lip. "Well, I suppose there's always time to find him later. He /did/ seem fairly set on finding you, though." She shrugs. "I'm sure it can wait until you're ready. There's so many books!"
Zinnia smiles "Yes there is and I have managed to get some newer and older ones for the library and fixed many of the books as well. Some are still in the attic but it’s so dusty up there it’s hard to breath, least for me it seems it the dust gets too...well in the air guess could say
"Stirred up!" Mirabella offers brightly, her smile broad. "It's dreadfully dusty in the attic. I don't know how anybeast stands going up there. I just hate dust." The mousemaid begins walking in the direction of the firepit and the wall, but slowly and still facing the badger. "I like to walk around the walls next. It's nice in the morning and if you go around enough times it makes a whole league! Would you like to come?"
Zinnia smiles as she stands. "Sure, it’s also good exercise to walk. My papa likes to visit the orchards and sometimes the rose garden. He says they are good places to meditate; I have yet to try it as it seems odd.”
The Firepit
This is a small strip of land between the pond and the orchards which is bordered on one side by a portion of the Abbey's southern wall. This particular section, while well built and sturdy, is obviously much, much newer than the sections to either side of it. The ground is clear of almost all grass and weeds, and is somewhat uneven, still bearing deep ruts and impressions that have not yet been worn away by the rain. The center of this area contains a large firepit lined with flagstones and encircled with log benches.
Leading the way, Mirabella laughs, hiking up her skirt a little as she steps over a muddy patch. "I like to walk. Sometimes I sing while I'm walking. I don't meditate usually, but I do talk to myself. I like talking too." She rounds the firepit, heading for the wall. "Do you like to talk? I think everyone should talk more. Friendly beasts talk to each other, and then we would never have disagreements because everyone would know how everyone else was feeling and wouldn't hurt each other's feelings." She looks back over her shoulder. "What do you think, Sister Zinnia?"
Zinnia nods. "Talking helps, like when one has a problem or is worried about something then it’s good to talk. I didn’t talk to hardly anyone when I first came here... I wasn’t really use to others as I had been on my own a season"
"It's good to be on your own, too," Mirabella notes, nodding. "That gives you time for some really serious thinking about yourself and your feelings. It's good to think about yourself. I think everyone should do more of that." Her dress waves around her legs almost as cheerily as her chatter rolls off her tongue. One paw goes out to trace the lines between the stones of the wall as she walks. "I like to think out loud, person-wahhh!" The mousemaid shrieks mid-word, suddenly disappearing from view.
Zinnia frowns "It… was hard I was only 4 seasons old..." She then gasps and rushes over carefully to where the mousemaid fell. "Mirabella?!"
A long moment of silence passes.
Zinnia frowns, she is not able find for sure where the mousemaid disappeared to, and that worries her. She examines the mud and does note quickly one area sinks in more than another. Not a large area but small enough for a creature smaller than herself.
"Okay," Mirabella's voice drifts up through the hole punched in the ground by her fall. "Okay... I am... okay." Her words are considerably slower and more tremulous than usual. "Sister Zinnia?" Louder. "Can you hear me?"
Zinnia does locate the hole now, it had maybe been weakened by some rain, and she frowns and bends down. "Yeah, I can hear you. Mostly. It’s some sort of hole under the wall it seems."
"Yeah... Yeah, it's a hole." Mirabella's voice dies out. "It's really dark down here." There is a definite twinge of terror in her tone.
Zinnia calls down. "I am not sure how to get light down there, how far down is it?"
"I don't know!" Mirabella's voice rings up out of the hole, the first stirrings of panic creeping in. "I can't see anything and my leg hurts and it's dark and... and it's cold."
Zinnia frowns as she calls down "Don’t worry I will go and find some help, is there any blood?" She does know basic first aid and healing as all in the order are to know, she hopes there is no bleeding, but a broken bone would also not be good.
"I don't feel any blood, but it's /dark,/" Mirabella answers, her voice flustered and worried. "Can't you get something down here? A candle? Please?"
Zinnia hmms and then answers "I will be right back!" And with that she hurries off to her room where she has a couple candles and some flint, but how does she get them down to the mousemaid she is unsure. She looks around and finds a small basket she keeps a couple small things in and puts the couple items on the nightstand and then goes back to where the small hole is and with yawn, hey it’s all she had, she lowers the basket down with the 2 candles and flint "I found a couple and flint...in the basket"
"Where is it?!" Mirabella is in full-blown panic at this point. "Where did you go? Are they coming? Where's the /basket??/" There's a scrabbling noise from the hole, then some very dainty cusswords. "I think I can walk, but it /hurts./ Is there a knife in there? I don't have anything for the flint. Where is that basket?!"
Zinnia frowns, she didn’t think of that" Maybe… slide the two flint together?" She thinks "Feel for the basket it was lowered down some… least best I could."
"Just... just drop it, it must be farther than that." Mirabella's voice is a little calmer, thankfully. "I don't think flint works that way!" A moment of silence. "I don't know, maybe I can use this pin." Doubtful.
Zinnia drops the basket "I..I'm sorry, never really used flint, my father has before."
A dull thud sounds in the hole as the basket falls onto the stone below. "Okay. Okay I'm going to get up now and find the basket." Mirabella is talking more to herself than Zinnia, psyching herself up to stand. This is shortly followed by an outcry of pain. "Okay, no I'm not."
Zinnia is more worried now as she tries to figure out what to do, not many come to the firepit area in summer time as it’s more a fall place to go. She paces back and forth as she tries to figure out what to do "Ok..Ok..just stay calm" She repeats this to the mousemaid.
"Go get help, or a rope, or... something!" Mirabella's voice says that she is definitely not going to 'just stay calm.' "...I found the basket."
Zinnia nods, oh yeah she can't see a nod, "I will go get help, be back soon!" She then rushes off to find some beast, any beast.
Within the hole, Mirabella sits with her legs sprawled out in front of her, gazing around in the darkness and trying to resist the urge to look up at the spot of light above. As time passes, her eyes have begun to adjust a bit to the low level of light, and smudgy shapes are now beginning to become visible. The basket is gathered up, clutched against her lap, while her eyes peer around in the murky darkness.
Down the Hole
You find yourself in a dark, dank hole, apparently directly under the South Wall. The hole is circular, with fitted stone walls. The stonework is clearly ancient, older even than the Abbey above. There are holes in the stone wall at equal intervals, the only remaining evidence of the wooden stairs that were once in this ancient tower.
