Relations and Revelations: A Traveler's Log

Characters Involved:

Lacuna, a male squirrel (spoofed by Samara)

Samara, a female squirrel

Castus, a male squirrel

SSV: Bed and Breakfast- Lounge

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You enter a large, well-lit lounge. On the far wall, there is a brick fireplace, used to keep the house warm in wintertime. There are several sofas and chairs in the room, as well as a small, stained table in the center, standing on an oriental rug. On the wall nearest the door, there is a shelf filled with books that somebeast could read while sitting in front of the fire. This room is very cozy, and is a good place for creatures to meet and chat.

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Lacuna rests at a table in the corner, his feet propped up on its surface and a book resting in his lap; his spectacles rest at the end of his nose, looking very much like his grumpy daughter seated next to him - in the exact same position. The resemblance is uncanny, though the pair don't seem to mind much.

Castus comes downstairs rubbing his eyes, his fur a little mussed. Apparently he didn't get much sleep last night - can't imagine why. He immediately goes for the water wherever it is, gulping it down, and then heads for the nearest filling food - preferably some kind of stew. He stops when he sees Samara /and/ her father in the same room, doing the same thing, without any outright hostility. "You guys look like you're posing for a portrait," he says abruptly. "Also, good morning." He eats half a bagel in one bite.

Samara peers over the top of her book, her brow narrowing. "And /you/ look like hell." Lacuna nudges her roughly, muttering "Be nice..." under his breath. "Well he does." Is all she replies, huffily burying her nose back into her book. Lacuna, rolling his eyes at his offspring's cynicism, looks to Castus with a softer expression. "Don't mind her; words can't hurt you - but if she starts swinging, take cover." He grins, shutting his book with a soft 'snap'. "Join us! How does this morning find you? You don't appear very well rested, was the bed not to your liking?"

"Oh, I... wouldn't say that, just a late night, you know how it is," Castus says, glancing coyly to one side as he sips his cup. He may be referring to something, but he's in Sam's father's presence, and even /he/ wouldn't go boasting of stuff like that here. "The morning finds me fine. The food here is /great./ Or maybe I'm just hungry. Are you guys hungry? Have you eaten yet?"

Castus drops down with a trayful of food, including bread and reheated stew.

"So," Sam sneers, eyeing her friend with amusement from across the table. "What was her name?" Lacuna raises an eyebrow and coughs into his paw to stifle a laugh. "Well, I will - ah - leave you two to discuss this..." He pushes himself upright as Sam puts a paw on his shoulder. "You don't have to skulk off because the young people are making you uncomfortable." She protests, but he just shakes his head with a chuckle. "No, no. I have some work that I want to attend to, anyways, and could use a few moments to myself." Now /that/ sounds familiar. "I will be meeting up with you once I'm done." He leans over, planting a kiss between Sam's ears before heading back up the stairs with his book in tow. "So -" Sam begins, once more. "What /was/ her name?"

"Lyana," Castus replies promptly. "And the caretaker's room /did/ have a very interesting history, as it turns out. I managed to find out she has a friend who visits often and comes here for the fresh orange juice. They have a wagon caravan due north - it'll be /much/ safer than walking all that way by myself." Allowing himself a proud little moment of self-congratulation, he presses on. "I am still going, you know. Mag..." He looks down at the table, like a scolded puppy. "He... won't be coming, he thinks. For some reason he thinks the mighty Flicktail can't handle problems back at Redwall alone. Heaven knows why." He rolls his eyes with another sip of stew.

"Flicktails that, uh, fox champion at Redwall, right? I've heard talk of him, but don't know him personally." She shrugs, marking the page of her book and shutting it gently, before looking at Castus with an expression that is akin to concern. "Are you...okay?" She asks, setting the book on the table. "I'm still planning on accompanying you, I owe you that much." She crosses her arms behind her head and settles back against her seat with a sigh. "I know you...look up to Mag, I'm sure that it's a disappointment to know that he won't be accompanying you, but it could be a blessing in disguise. This way you will accomplish this thing all on your own, rather than under the wing of your mentor." The squirrelmaid shrugs once more before she stands and walks away without any real explanation. She returns a moment later with a mug of tea.

"I suppose," Castus says, looking over his shoulder as if to spot Mag walking up to them right now. "I never really /have/ done anything on my own. Not yet, anyway. It's just weird. He's been the first constant my life has ever had. I almost feel like I'm... running away again, or something." He shakes his head, chiding himself. "Eh. You're probably right. I need this. Just have to make myself do it." He nods upstairs. "So... your dad seems nice."

"Mag cares for you, I think that he sees that you need to do this on your own as well." She sips thoughtfully at her tea, but at the mention of her father she smiles a small grin behind her cup. "Yes, he is. I've...really missed him. He understood that there are things that need to be done on ones own in order for a person to truly understand certain things about themselves. I'm sure that Mag sees this about you." The gentleness fades from her eyes after her kind moment, as if recognizing her slip-up. "Or he just wants to be rid of you, who knows?"

Castus barks out a laugh. "Maybe so. Familiarity breeds contempt! Just you wait, give it a few months and he'll be begging to have me back." He toasts this prophecy with a raise of his own cup. "And to us, I guess. A safe journey and the company of friends."

Samara doesn't raise her cup to his at first, just takes a lazy sip before relenting with a tired smile and clinking her mug to his, softly. "Eh, I suppose. When, er, were you thinking of getting going?" She asks, swirling the liquid around her mug with some trepidation. "I only ask because I would like to spend some more time with my father...You know." Then she adds, snarkily: "Being familiar with you has certainly made me contemptuous." She winks.

Castus raises his eyebrow. "Oh! Well, if we happen to murder each other on the way I'll make sure we're buried in the same grave at least. Economic /and/ romantic."

The squirrelmaid laughs and points an accusatory finger at him. "I hope the maggots do their job quickly, then, so that I could at least decompose in peace." She leans back, sipping from her tea. "Why do you continue to attempt these flirtations with me when you know the most success that can come from them is a black eye on your part?" She smirks, crossing her legs. "The fact that they continue while your fur is still tussled from the last maid you courted when you attempt just makes it more puzzling. Let me ask - is there any merit to your advances or is it just how you are? I've always just assumed the latter."

Castus's smile is curious. Strange, certainly. Mirthful. But he's not mocking anyone when he answers her. "There's all the merit in the world, Sam. I don't lie when I say someone's beautiful, or I'd like to be with them. Sometimes I joke and sometimes I jape, but when it comes to... not love, but let's say... the affections that might lead to it... I don't lie. What comes after that... well, you never know until the day comes, do you?"

Samara laughs. "That's an eloquent answer, though you take a liberty in assuming that the day may come." She finishes her tea in a final gulp. "Thanks for clearing that up, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to break your nose to deter you or not. You get off easy, this time. Easier than the last boy who tried, at least, but it's rude to speak ill of the dead." The botanist smirks and taps on the table with her finger tips before changing the subject. "My father...didn't take my book for the reasons that I thought he was going to. My manuscripts are normally considered the rough draft for his work, but he said that this one is not his to alter and that it is going to be refined, bound in hardier bindings and published under my name alone..." It is obvious that this news has been something that she's been eager to share, and it's hard for her to disguise her mirth.

Castus finally downs the last of his stew. The caretaker mousemaid swings by for the bowl and Castus gives her a wink and a pinch in the ribs as she departs, which is returned by a smirk and a swat of her tail. Castus turns back to Samara, his expression suddenly brightens further. "Whoa. Really? That whole thing is all yours?" He leans back and claps his hands. "Ha! And you were all worried on the way down here! That's amazing! We have /got/ to find a place to properly celebrate! For mentors and the students who surpass them!"

Lacuna returns; his clothing has shifted to more appropriate garb for, well, leaving the tavern. "Who’s surpassing who? I should hope that I haven't become obsolete just yet." The aging red squirrel gives them both a cheeky wink before laying his paws on Samara's shoulders. "Mind if I steal her away for now? You lot can go and celebrate when we're finished." As Sam walks on ahead, waving a paw over her shoulder amiably, her father stops and gives Cas a concerned look. "It's a trap, mate. The free meals may be nice at first, but it comes at a price eventually." He cups a paw over the younger male's shoulder. "It ruins the illusion when you learn that not all of her teeth are real. Good luck." He waves nervously to the mousemaid. "Er - just heading out, I'm afraid! Can't talk, my deepest apologies!" And with that the scientist follows his daughter, hurriedly, out the door.

Just before the door shuts, Lacuna can be heard muttering to Samara. "That one's a worse flirt than your Aunt Aden - and I thought /she/ was bad!"

Castus watches them leave and then glances back at the mousemaid. He gives her a thoughtful look and then turns back to his drink. "Just close your eyes and think of Redwall..." He mutters to himself, taking a drink, which he promptly spits out on hearing 'Aunt Aden.'