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Involves:
- Fenton
- Zenobia


Holgrave House: Garden
This prim garden grows quietly against the dark, glowering background of Mossflower Wood. Something about it seems reminiscent of a game board. A green pool of manicured grass spreads out around you, fenced in by tall hedges. It is dotted with statues, a sundial, and a bird bath, all scattered with a strange sort of symmetry. A fountain forever tinkles in the center, except when the winter frosts freeze it solid. The many flowerbeds are dominated by roses--white, pink, and red. A crunchy gravel pathway winds through them to the front door of a house. It is a curious structure, something like a cottage-sized castle of gray stone, complete with moat and drawbridge. A two-story tower rises on its eastern side, and a bay window with real glass dominates its front. Like the lawn surrounding it, the house is perfectly kept. Even the ivy that trails up its western side has a well-pruned aspect.
Exits: [E]nter the [H]ouse, [M]ossflower [W]oods
With:
[DYN] Florid, well-fed ferret (Fenton)

A few leaves and petals remain scattered about from last night's storm. A spring breeze ever threatens to bring new clouds in, but as soon as the sky darkens, it brightens again. Fenton Bellows strides through his gardens alone, swinging his cane and breathing deeply of the fresh, heavily-scented air. Occasionally, a tear appears behind his spectacles, and, smiling, he slips a claw behind the glass to wipe it away. Allergies, no doubt.

The night had proved unfavorable for a certain beast. Being nocturnal, the long eared wasn't enjoying the day at all. Sleep was uneasy, though. Her two left wing digits were bent awkwardly midway down, and she lacked the ability to properly fold them against her. Even so, she had roosted in a tree at dawn, but by now had awaken and, forgetting her wing, she had released herself and fallen straight earthward, bypassing limbs and landing awkwardly into a hedge.

Fenton starts at the crash and whirls around, his paw on the hilt of his rapier. "Who's there?" His eye twitches as he waits, glancing occasionally at the house.

With her ears folded back, as they generally are when not in any real use, Jesmin rights herself after a clumsy tumble out of the foliage. She raises the broken bit with a grimaced expression. Her attention snaps towards the voice soon after, only now noticing the otherbeast.
Fenton leans forward over his cane. Slowly, he recovers his smile. "Well, well. Dear me, what's this?" He strides towards the injured beast. For a creature of his size, he carries his weight with remarkable grace. Leaning over Jesmin, he frowns kindly and clacks his tongue. "Why you poor, poor thing. Whatever's happened to you? Are you quite alright, my dear?"

Jesmin folds back the digits of her able paw, dark eyes set upon the approaching ferret. His mannerism quickly dispels any anxieties about his presence. Her voice could almost be called a whisper, but it was just as audible as a normal speaking creature. "Misfortunes.. during the night." There is a soft murmur that could be called an echo of final words. She looks back at the creature after having examined the crippled figure of her wing, "..But I shall live. Thank you."

Fenton bends down on one knee. "Dear me. Are you certain? Seems to me you're rather in a bad way. May I?" He brings his paw near her wing, indicating his desire to check for fractures.

Jesmin tilts her head slightly. She had a uneasiness towards strangebeasts, but she couldn't really be choosy at the moment. ".. Good, yes.." She raises the said appendage slightly, giving her own look over of the sustained damage.

Fenton tenderly feels along the bones until he comes to the first irregularity. "Does that hurt?" he asks, applying slight pressure to the break.

Jesmin's instinctual start and withdrawl would have been just as good a reply, but the odd, soft screech that accompanied it put a period to it. Her nose crinkles, and she breathes deep. "It does, yes."

Fenton's paw snaps back. "I'm so sorry. But I'm afraid you have a very bad fracture, dear. You need proper attention." He heaves himself up and stands looking down at her, broad and imposing, blocking out the morning sunlight. He offers her his paw. "Please, won't you come inside, dear? There's nothing to be afraid of." His handsome, warm face beams at her like a second sun.

Jesmin knows of the general reputation of ferrets, although this one seems kind enough; well mannered and dressed. The watches the large figure stand, and after a glance towards his house give a simple nod. "Okay, yes- Thank you." She accepts the paw with her able one.

Fenton lifts Jesmin up with the gentleness of nursemaid, and then the pair progress over the sunlit lawn to the great stone house.

Holgrave House: Parlor
This large, open room looks out over the garden. In spring, the hum of bees drifts in through the open bay window. In the opposite wall is a fireplace, its mantle stacked with quartos, folios, and scrolls. The eastern wall opposite the entrance is hung with a magnificent tapestry, depicting a castle in the center of a lush garden. It bears a strange resemblance to the house itself. The furniture is ornate, carved of dark, glossy oak. The pieces form two circles, one near the window, the other back by the fireplace. The latter encircles a table with a chess set carved of onyx and pearl. Next to the tapestry sits an open cabinet filled with knickknacks, including a swan carved of crystal, a gold-hilted dagger encrusted with jewels, and an ostrich feather fan. The floor is carpeted with clean rush mats that give off a pleasant, green-smelling perfume.
Exits: [En]tryway
With:
[DYN] Florid, well-fed ferret (Fenton)

Fenton leads Jesmin into the bright parlor, fresh with vases of garden flowers. "Here you are," he says, offering her a seat on the long, cushioned bench.

Jesmin follows the large ferret with a timid, but curious air. She is pleased by the surroundings, and most of her anxieties fade. She takes the seat offered, reveling in the room around her.

Once Jesmin is properly situated, Fenton rushes to the entrance of the parlor and rings a little bell. "Zenobia. Zenobia, dear, do come," he calls.

Zenobia has arrived.

Zenobia hobbles into the parlor, her stick tapping on the floor as she goes. She smacks her gums and peers narrowly into the brightness of the room. A light glimmers in her eyes when she sees the bat, but it instantly dies away. A sneer creeps over her already-hideous face.

Jesmin's ears perk up for the first time, twitching uncertainly high above her head. She instantly finds herself repulsed by this newcomer, and draws back a little in her seat.

Fenton chuckles and pats Zenobia's crooked back. "There you are, m'gel. How's the "rheumatiz" this morning?"

Zenobia sniffs and stirs the floor with her stick. "Wretched as allus. Allus worse arter the rain." She looks again at Jesmin.

Fenton begins, "Oh, allow me to introduce--" He pauses. "Dear me, we haven't been introduced yet, have we?"

Jesmin's ears fall back heavily again, staring with scrutiny at the two. Though rather undecided of the jill, she gives a soft nod in their direction. "Oh... No.. Yes, apologies." The bat makes to rise from her seat, "I am Jesmin."

Fenton says, "Delighted to make your acquaintance. Fenton Bellows." He turns back to Zenobia. "Miss Jesmin here seems to have taken a nasty fall out in the garden. Perhaps you could take a look?""

Zenobia smacks her gums and hobbles over to Jesmin, then stands by the bat and waits for her to offer the wing.

Jesmin stares at the jill for a long moment, then raises her arm. "Much appreciated..." She pauses a moment, watching, "I hit it during the storm."

Zenobia merely looks at the wing and shakes her head. "Broken. At least two places. S'pose I could make a plaster for it, 'cept I'm pretty busy what with the kitchen and the floors and the mouse. . . ."

Fenton grins at the word "mouse." "Oh, of course, of course. I could watch him for today, and the floors can wait. Miss Jesmin's wing is far more important." And he beams at her.

Zenobia nods and hobbles out to make the plaster, murmuring all the while.

Zenobia has left.

Jesmin turns her head to glance at Fenton. She thought to inquire about this mouse, but instead decided against it. After watching the Jill leave, she again returns her gaze back to her host. "Thank you, although I wouldn't like to stay long.. and impose."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of letting you go," Fenton says, taking hold of Jesmin's good claw and laying his over paw on top of it. "I know Zenobia's a bit testy, but she'll take proper care of you. She knows how to take care of--" A deep, bubbly chuckle interrupts his words. "Ahem. In the meantime, can I offer you a little something? It's not quite tea-time, but I usually have my mid-morning bite about now."

In fact, a small table by the window has already been laid out with a glistening array of sticky preserves, white cream, and pastries of all kinds. The window has been closed to keep the flies away.

Jesmin, for some reason, is gathering an uneasiness. But she dismisses it. Her silken voice replies after a moment, a soft thoughtful hiss preceding it. "Thank you, sir; I would be thankful, even more so than I already am.."

Fenton smiles until his eyes are mere slits above his plump cheeks. "Splendid. Well, then--" He lifts the table with barely a grunt and places it before Jesmin, then scoots his own armchair towards it. With a sigh, he eases himself into the chair, then tucks a handkerchief in the neck of his tunic.

Jesmin's conservative, guarding personality slips a bit, upon situating herself with the presence of the ferret. A smile crosses her lips in return. "I must.. apologize for making such a clumsy entrance into your garden."

Zenobia has arrived.

"Oh, not at all," Fenton says, his mouth full of blueberry pastry. "I--" Upon noting Zenobia, he stops.

Zenobia clears her ragged throat. "If yer please, Sir. . . ." she says in a tone of mock-politeness.

Fenton smiles in a benevolent, long-suffering fashion and winks at Jesmin. "I'm sorry. Will you excuse me?" He rises and walks towards Zenobia.

Zenobia stands on tip-paw to whisper in Fenton's ear.

Just as she was looking over the food, the jill enters, and her attention is averted. She watches Fenton rise, and nods lightly.

Fenton's jaw tightens. "I'll be the judge of that. I don't smell anything."

Zenobia whispers something else.

Fenton chuckles and nods. "Naturally. Of course, of course. Bring it on in."

Jesmin averts her eyes from the two, and goes back to the pastries, apparently delighted with the selection.

Zenobia crawls back out, making a strangled sound in the depths of her throat--presumably a kind of laugh.

Zenobia has left.

Fenton smashes his lips into a tight line to suppress a smile. "Poor old creature. She's so conscientious. A slight brown tinge on the pie and she's all aflutter. A dear creature at heart." He sits back down.

The bat takes up a pastry, examining it a moment between her fingers. She looks back up to the ferret as he seats himself, smiling gently. "She.." Jesmin pauses a moment, "Appears.. kindly enough." Her eyes stray towards where the jill had left, before turning her attention back to the pastry.

Fenton begins munching a raspberry tart. "Now, you must tell me all about yourself, my pet. Wherever do you live? I don't recall seeing you in the area before."

Jesmin was about to take an experimental bite of her prize, but lowers it to reply. Her nose wrinkles quizzically at something or another, "About half a night's flight from here. North and west. I am a scout."

Fenton exclaims, "Ah! For whom do you scout, if I may ask?"

Jesmin takes a nibble at her pastry, and finds the fruity filling to be delectable. She replies after a wholesome bite, "The Anana clan. We occupy the pines near the mountains."

Fenton says, "My, my. I hope I'm not keeping you from any important mission?""

Jesmin shakes her head while quickly munching down the pastry, "Oh, no. We just try to keep a general idea of things outside our roosts. Yes.." She contemplates another selection. "You have a nice roo-.. eh, home, yes.. yourself. I was taken by your garden."

Fenton beams. "Why, thank you so much! Yes, it is especially beautiful this time of year. I simply adore the spring. Such a delicious change after the hum-drum dreariness of winter. But I love beautiful things at any time. I'm a veritable pack-rat of all things pretty." He leans back, cocks his head to one side, and peers at Jesmin strangely.

Jesmin nods with agreement, "Winter.. dreadful season, quite.. Yes, though the first snows can be very charming." Her black eyes glance up quizzically from the food spread out before them, before she selects another one of those pastries she had eaten before. She wasn't really sure what sort it was, but it was delicious enough for her palette.

Zenobia has arrived.

Zenobia returns without her stick. In her gnarled paws, she holds a steaming apple pie. Without a word, she lays it on the table among the other sweets. Her entrance awakes Fenton from his reverie. "Oh . . . oh . . . yes, of course. Thank you, dear." He produces a dagger from his jacket and prepares to slice the pie, then stops. "I say--no letters today?" He looks at the old jill expectantly.

Jesmin knew who the creature entering would be; already she recognized the noise she made when entering. Jesmin sinks her canines into the pastry, then pauses with it still there- watching as the pie is delivered and the jill is questioned.

Zenobia makes that hideous, strangled noise in her throat again and leers. "Aye, there was."

Fenton says, ". . . .Well?""

Zenobia produces a folded piece of parchment from her dress and hands it to Fenton. She then makes her way out of the room rather more quickly than she entered.

Jesmin finishes her half-bite into the pastry, swallowing it quickly. Her pinned ears raise the slightest, obviously curious about the whole ordeal.

Without a glance at Jesmin, Fenton feverishly unfolds the parchment and begins to read. He squints and adjusts his spectacles as his eyes scan the message. A fierce blush rises to his ears and his paws begin to clench. Suddenly, Fenton snaps. With a snarl, he crinkles the parchment up and hurls it across the room. "Curse her! Fine, go on. Go to hellgates! Blasted--" He stops and glances at Jesmin. His whole huge body quivers and relaxes into the chair. Sighing, he covers his face. "Forgive me . . . I . . . I'm sorry."

Zenobia has left.

Jesmin watches the ferret. The bat freezes, her ears perching straight atop her head. By nature her eyesight was weak, but she could hear well enough- as could be guessed. After a moment of listening to the ferret, and his apology, Jesmin sets down the remnants of her pastry. "Oh.. Um.." The bat begins to rise, "Don't worry.. Would you like me to leave?"

Fenton starts up. "Oh, no, no, certainly not. It's nothing, nothing at all. Just a--an unpleasant note from a . . . former acquaintance of mine. Please, do sit down."

Jesmin is uncertain of whether to comply to his request. She wasn't about to dig into the business of beasts she didn't know. But she sits again, though again quite conservatively, nibbling at her pastry after retrieving it. "I understand."

"Of course you do," Fenton says. "You're a sweet little creature. I certainly don't want you to go. In fact, I was hoping you would stay for some time. . . ." He watches her, as if awaiting her reaction.

Jesmin looks up from a pensive stare at the table, and ceases her nibbling. She gives a gentle shake of her head, "Oh, no, sorry-no. I couldn't. I have to get back to my clan, or they'll wonder what's become of me."

Fenton says, "Oh . . . I see. Well, we could always send them a letter. My courier knows this area quite well--I'm sure he could find the place easily." Before Jesmin can reply to this, Fenton continues, "I'm just worried about you trying to make any journeys too soon. It may take you some time to heal."

Jesmin had almost forgotten about her wing, though its aches return quickly after she is reminded of it. She frowns, and considers her situation a moment, "I'm not certain.. Well, you could. I'm sure some of my clan mates will come and retrieve me."

Fenton lets out a deep, quivering sigh. "Well, I've done my best, but perhaps the straight course is best. Are you certain you want to go back at all?"

Jesmin blinks at him quizzically, ears swiveling atop her head. "Well.. Yes, of course I do."

Zenobia appears at the entryway. She fumbles at the door until a click is heard and then hobbles back to the kitchen.

Fenton says, "But it must be a rather difficult life, fending for yourself. See where it's got you already."

Jesmin's ears tilt towards the click, followed by the turn of her head to glance in its direction. She replies without looking back, "We do not fend for ourselves.. We have a very nice roost built up in the pines." She looks back at him. "Food becomes plentiful in the spring."

Fenton smiles paternally. "Yes, I'm sure it is, but it's always plentiful here. Do you know, I have a fellow who brings fresh produce every day of the year? There's always something--some of it preserved in the winter, of course, but always delicious and plentiful." As evinced by the ferret's appearance.

Jesmin could tell right off that the ferret had access to easy meals. She becomes a bit tentative, "We stock up for the winter. We have enough." The bat isn't liking the attempts to convince her to stay. She didn't know why he wanted her to, which is what puzzles her the most.

Fenton seems to drift off into reverie. His drowsy eyes focus on a distant point of the ceiling and his voice grows softer, more fluid, almost hypnotic. "And poor Zenobia's rheumatism has been so bad lately. She really could use an extra paw about the house. And you seem like such a nice sturdy, handy little creature."

Jesmin's ears pin back again. She pushes any food near her away. A few odd, low frequency chirps follow her reply. "I.. I can't. I'm thankful for your hospitality but.." The bat trails off, and her ears rise, "I think I should leave. You seem wealthy enough... .. I'm certain you could hire help."

Fenton grins, places his paws on his knees, and rocks back. "Well, naturally, but hired helpers are so transient. I do loathe it when beasts leave. I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that you stay here."

Jesmin folds her paws together, allowing the membranes of both healthy and wounded wings to cloak her. "I don't understand why you require me to stay longer, but I simply cannot. This is not my home."

Fenton rises and picks up his cane. "I'm afraid it is, now. Why on earth you would want to leave me--you yourself said you were quite taken with the place--is absolutely beyond me. I simply can't allow you to deprive me of such a lovely new ornament. And there's such a nice spare bedroom you can have."

Jesmin gives a quite audible snort of indignation, "Ornament?..." The bat was catching on by now, there was an obvious pallor in her face and ears. She rises from her seat, clutching the limp bones of her broken wing with the paw of her good one. "I don't.." She echoed her words in a curiously faded manner. "No."

Fenton wraps his arm around Jesmin's shoulder. "There, there. Nothing to kick up a fuss about. It isn't as though I'm expecting you to do hard manual labor. That plaster should be ready soon. Perhaps you should go to your room and lay down for a spell?"

Jesmin is completely insulted by his manner of speaking on the issue, which she was in plain protest of. She gives an odd sort of 'fstshhk' type of hiss towards the arm, which she instantly attempts to retreat from and slip away towards the door- which she already fears has been locked, but is intent on trying anyway. "Disgusting!" Again, there is a queer echo.

Fenton smiles and lets her go. "I might as well tell you--it's locked."

Holgrave House: Entry
Even in daylight, this entryway is a quiet, dim place. The only light that ever enters comes from the parlor, to the left of the front door. To the right is a study furnished with heavy oak armchairs and a fireplace. Straight ahead, a creaking wooden staircase rises to a landing, from which a second flight rises to the second floor. Behind the staircase, a curtain hides the door leading to the kitchens. In front of the curtain a water clock on a pedestal drips steadily. Exits: [S]econd [F]loor, [St]udy, [Pa]rlor, [L]eave the [H]ouse
With:
[DYN] Florid, well-fed ferret (Fenton)


Jesmin's ears swivel about, and a series of low frequency chirps proceed under her breath, continuing even as she speaks. "Then unlock it."

Fenton shrugs. "So sorry, dear, but I haven't the key."

Jesmin's head turns this way and that, ears twitching and swiveling while keeping a peg on the plump ferret. "Then retrieve it from that wretch you live with."

Fenton asks, "Hmm? Oh, you mean the housekeeper. But she's so busy. Making your plaster, need I remind you. Now, just come along. . . .""

Jesmin's fur prickles, hissing in her still whispered voice, "Stay away."

Fenton chuckles. "You weren't so averse to me a moment ago. Come now, you're just being silly." His smile disappears. "Nothing you say will persuade me to open that door, so you may as well stop being difficult."

"You're mad." Jesmin grinds her teeth. She steps to the side, constantly holding to her injured digits to avoid tripping among them. She was weighing her chances on tackling the large ferret.

Fenton relaxes back into a smile. "Great seasons, you're not thinking of trying something, are you? Do be careful--we wouldn't want you further injured."

Jesmin is certainly not going to try and wrestle the beast. She displays another hiss, arms spreading and able wing expanding while the other droops uselessly. "I just want to leave."

Fenton slowly approaches her. "There, there, there. It's going to be alright. Just--" And then he darts around behind her, grabs her throat, and wraps his arm around her middle. "Now, come along, and we'll put you in a nice room by yourself where you can settle down for a bit. Alright?" He pants a bit with exertion and swallows hard. "There's a good girl."

Jesmin isn't an offensive sort, obviously. When he approaches, she moves back a pace, not expecting such a large figure to dart as quickly as he did. Part of her wing's flap is pinned beneath his arm, and she flexes it madly while taking up a series of alarmed screeches.

Fenton groans. "Now don't start that . . . seasons, my poor eardrums. Come along, then, come along." Slowly but steadily he begins to drag her upstairs, ignoring her shrieks. Zenobia appears at the door to the kitchen and looks up. Then she turns around and heads back to the kitchen.

Jesmin certainly doesn't go without protest, wriggling and flapping her good wing while continuing to rent the air with those awful piercing sounds; kicking for what it's worth. Though obviously that's not enough, because it amounts to nothing but smart retorts and comments from her captor.

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:. Logs .:

- Log 1 - Capture

- Log 2 - Failed Escape

- Log 3 - Worries

- Log 4 - Confirmed Fears

- Log 5 - Escape to Redwall

- Log 6 - Legends and Songs at Redwall

- Log 7 - Recapture

- Log 8 - Spawn of Fenton