#bella brockhall

[wuddshipp]

Lady of the Wood; Bella Brockhall

#Legend of Luke #Mossflower #bella brockhall #martin for size comparison lol #i wanted to draw her to look somewhat close to her father #her cane is made of beech oak ash and rowan in reference to him #i also wanted her to have “i could crush you with one paw and you're lucky i'd never do that” energy #wuddart

[pitviperofdoom]

Like we all know that Redwall is riddled with continuity errors, it's practically part of the charm, but the ones that bugged me the most were the ones surrounding the events of Martin the Warrior's time. Timballisto was one of the most frustrating ones; in Outcast of Redwall, Brother Barlom is his grandson and talks about the stories Timbal told him about Martin, but then later in the series when The Legend of Luke rolls around, suddenly BJ needs there to be a reason Martin can't talk to anyone about his spotty memories of his father, so he has to retcon that Timbal died during the winter after the fall of Kotir. Stuff like that!

But, rereading Mariel of Redwall, I stumbled on another continuity error that used to bug me, and when I read it now I can't help but think I might have misinterpreted it the first time around. At the very least, it's fairly easy to re-interpret it. Dandin says that "the father of [his] father's father" (great grandfather) is Gonff, but later, in Outcast again, Bryony is the great-granddaughter of Gonff with none of the Mariel characters in sight. Outcast also has a number of direct connections with the characters from Martin's time, like Barlom and Bryony, like Togget being the grandson of Dinny, like Bella of Brockhall literally being still alive. Mariel of Redwall only has Dandin and Rawnblade, the latter being Sunflash's great-grandson. Sunflash wasn't a major player until Gonff had already passed away!

This is all a lengthy explanation to get around to the idea that Dandin's "father of my father's father" turn of phrase could've been non-literal, like a fancy and verbose way of naming him an ancestor but not describing the actual connection. It makes sense! Mariel of Redwall is pretty far removed from the events of Martin's time. The abbey itself is still young, but Martin and the founders are far more distant memories than only three generations would account for. If nothing else, it makes the timeline a tad bit more sensible.

There's no salvaging the Timballisto thing, though.

#redwall #spoilers #redwall reread #mariel of redwall #outcast of redwall

[mole-supremacy]

#Redwall #cregga rose eyes #Constance badgermum #Bella of Brock hall

[sharpestasp]

Mossflower

Mossflower by Brian Jacques, published in 1988 is my book with an animal on the cover.

I've met Bella of Brockhall (badger), and a young mouse in the preamble. Then a host of critters in the first two chapters, to include Martin. The shape of the world is mean and miserable. And Martin is a warrior.

The evil keep is rotten with muck and the leader is ill and the princess is plotting?

NB: I am familiar with the concept of Redwall, but it was not on my reading lists. The last animal cast book I read as a youth was Animal Farm, and prior to that was Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH. Other than a recent re-read of Black Beauty, anyway.

#books #redwall #brian jacques #mossflower

[lostmidnightwriter]

Redwall Characters as Brooklyn 99 GIFs

Saxtus, trying to look cool in front of Dandin:

Tsarmina to Gingivere:

Chickenhound, being himself:

Gonff, if he finds out about Martin whole backstory:

Dotti, after causing all sort of mischief and trouble:

Jess, at all times:

Constance, at all times:

Bucko Bigbones, joining the Brocktree squad:

Bella of Brockhall afte her father was killed:

BONUS:

Me remembering that Brian Jacques passed away 11 years ago:

#redwall #redwall series #brian jacques #it's sad times here y'all #i celebrate Brian's life and work #in the only way i know #i am kinda sorry #but not too much #abbot saxtus #redwall tsarmina #redwall chickenhound #redwall brome #redwall dotti #redwall jess #redwall constance #bucko bigbones #bella of brockhall

[mothnem]

Okay! ATLA x Redwall crossover! This is mainly some ideas for what people are like elements and such.

Tsarmina: Firebender.

Verdauga Greeneyes: Firebender.

Columbine: Earthbender.

Gonff: Airbender. (He was most disappointed to find out clouds are not as soft as they look)

Moles: Mostly Earthbenders because they live in the ground and are exposed to the Earth Element.

Otters: Mostly water but Air and Fire are also not unheard of with Earth being the rarest.

Skipper: Firebender.

Bella: None Bender.

Boar: Earthbender trained in Metalbending.

Dinny: Earthbender.

Gingivere: The Avatar. Because I love him.

Martin: None Bender. Listen, if I made him a bender the whole story would only last about four paragraphs okay?

Fortunata: Waterbender.

#redwall #redwall au #ATLA #martin the warrior #gonff #gonff the mousethief #bella of brockhall #boar the fighter

[tinybookgirl]

I love Bella of Brockhall

#Bella of brockhall #mossflower #brian jacques #redwall

[vandevos]

Time to multi-post, so here’s another characters as Dungeons and Dragons classes, this time for “Mossflower”:

Martin the Warrior: Champion Fighter

Gnoff, Prince of Mousetheives: Thief Rogue and at least a level of Bard

Young Dinny: Path of Beast Barbarian

Log-a-log Bigclub: Ranger

All Hares: Battlemaster Fighter

Boar the Fighter: Oath of Devotion Paladin / Path of the Zealot Barbarian

Abbess Germaine: Peace Domain Cleric

Bella of Brockhall: Circle of Land Druid

Skipper of Otters: Swashbuckler Rogue

Amber Squirrelqueen: Hunter Ranger

The Mask: Mastermind Rogue

If I missed anyone or you want me to do the villains, let me know!

#books #redwall #mossflower #tales of Redwall #dungeons and dragons #dnd #dnd5e #Gnoff was the easiest one here lol #i really wanted to make Martin something else but the CF makes too much sense #if I cover legend of Luke he’ll definetly be Battle Master

[xiphosuras]

Fiiiinally scanned these two, though prints always look better irl. The Corim and a Martin :)

#redwall #Mossflower #Martin the Warrior #Gonff the mousethief #Lady Amber #Skipper Warthorn #Columbine #Bella of Brockhall #Dinny #Ferdy & Coggs #Gingivere #Redwall abbey #linoprint #fanart #books

[lostmousemaid]

Sometimes I wish we as fans of Redwall talk more about the "invisible" characters. Like Boar the Fighter's spouse. They are never mentioned but you know there had to be one because Bella exists.

In a way I agree, but this is a double edged sword. Invisible characters aren't fleshed out in canon, and as fun as it is to give them personalities and stories in our minds, if we share small portions of that with the world there can be total confusion, complete disagreement, or full disinterest, which is counterintuitive to the comfort we receive from fandom.

I think the best place to talk about invisible characters is fanfiction, because the fan can put everything in one place and present it to the world to say "this is the character, this is everything about them." Another great place to display them is fan art, placing the invisible character among well known characters. In your example, I picture Bella learning how to cook with her mom as a very young badger cub in Brockhall.

Unfortunately with invisible characters it would be hard to have the one-off posts that we can with--say--Basil, whose personality is strong and recognizable even if we only say one sentence. As such, we post about them way less, or not at all.

That said, I fully support creative license. If anyone has fanfiction or fanart of lesser known or totally OC characters, I love to see them!

#redwall

[fuzzhugs]

Perennial - A Redwall Short Story

One week after the Battle of Kotir

Few mice in Mossflower could be said to be busier than Columbine. After the fight which had finally rid the woodlanders of the oppressive claw of Tsarmina Greeneyes, there were plenty of wounded that needed tending to. Most of those who had  been superficial injured were healing well, but there were plenty of creatures with deeper injuries that needed dressings changed every so often, and with everybeast spread throughout the forest cleaning up after the long and difficult struggle, it was a challenge to see to every creature’s needs. Add to that the task of keeping Gonff from making off everything that wasn’t nailed down, and Columbine was more or less constantly occupied.

There was one patient who needed the most attention, but he never strayed from where he rested. Martin, the hero of Mossflower, the stranger who had wandered in from the north one cold night in the winter, had been grievously injured. He had fought Tsarmina alone, and though she now lay vanquished at the bottom of the newly created lake, the battle had taken its toll on Martin. He had been found close to death on the lake’s bloodstained shore, and it had taken all of the combined skills of both Abbess Germaine and Columbine to keep him among the living. He had yet to awaken, and there was no more that could be done for him. The battle was now his alone.

Columbine stepped through the well-concealed doorway into Brockhall, returning after a long morning tracking down those who needed to have their dressings changed. It was now Martin’s turn. The wounds on his back were deep, and they needed daily cleaning and re-bandaging in order to prevent infection.

As she descended underground beneath the arching roots of the homey tree, Columbine heard a soft humming coming from the room where Martin slept.

“Strange,” she thought to herself. Everybeast cared about Martin, of course, but everyone was busy out in Mossflower. The only other creatures inside were Bella, Goody Stickle, and Abbess Germaine, all of whom Columbine had seen on the upper levels.

Quietly, Columbine kept along and peeked inside the door. There was a female mouse sitting beside Martin on his bed, gently rubbing his shoulder as she hummed. Columbine did not recognize her, but there were a number of woodlanders who had returned to western Mossflower after the word of the fall of the Greeneyes dynasty, so Columbine was meeting many new creatures in recent days.

“Hello?” Columbine said, stepping into the room with her medical bag hanging from her shoulder.

The mouse turned to face her properly. Columbine immediately saw that she was very pretty. “Hello,” she said in return. “You’re Columbine, yes? You’ve been taking care of Martin?”

Columbine nodded. “Abbess Germaine as well. It’s difficult for us to see him like this. We feed him broth treat his wounds, but there isn’t much else we can do. At this point, it’s up to fate whether he lives.”

The mouse looked down at Martin’s injured back. “He’s never been one to give much deference to fate.”

Columbine’s ears perked up. “Have you known him for a while? Did you know him before he came here?”

“I ran into him in the north. He changed my life, as I suppose he’s changed all of yours. When I heard he was injured, I had to come and see him, to see if there was anything I could do to help him.”

“I’m afraid this isn’t much anybeast can do at this point but wait, but if you’d like to help me clean his wounds, you may.”

Columbine dug through her bag and pulled out fresh dressing. She dug around a bit more before sighing. “I’ve left my healing salve behind. I’ll have to go grab some more. We should have some in the supply cupboard upstairs.”

The healer mouse stood and left the room, nearly running into Abbess Germaine.

“Excuse me, Abbess,” Columbine apologized. “I just need to get more salve.”

“Of course. I made a fresh jar the other day, so there should be plenty. Keeping Martin company, are you? It’s nice of you to talk to him.”

“Oh! I wasn’t talking to Martin. He had a visitor come to see him.” Columbine stepped back to let the Abbess into the room. “Abbess, this is-” Columbine’s voice cut off as she realized that she had never asked the other mouse her name and that the room was now empty, save for Martin.

“But…she was just,” Columbine sputtered. There was only one way into the room, there wasn’t anything in the room that could hide a full-grown creature, and the hallway was too narrow for anybeast to pass through unnoticed. So where was she?

“Dear, are you feeling okay?” Abbess Germaine asked, gently taking Colubmine’s arm. “You’ve been working very hard these past few days. Perhaps you should rest for a while.”

“I’m fine, Abbess,” Columbine insisted. “There was just…I need to finish tending to Martin.”

After she retrieved the salve, Columbine returned to Martin’s side. She started by pealing back the old bandages, putting them in a basin to be cleaned later. She dabbed a rag with medicinal spirit to begin cleaning, but paused when she caught a good look of the wounds on Martin’s back.

“This is…” she said aloud to the empty room, “this is impossible.”

The wounds, which were only a few days old and had been open the previous day now appeared to have undergone weeks of healing. Most of the wounds were nearly closed and a few were lightly scarred over.

Still puzzling over the nearly miraculous healing, Columbine cleaned out the few wounds that were still open and covered them with fresh bandages. Taking a moment, she adjusted Martin on the bed and pulled the blankets up so he would stay warm.

As she turned to go, Columbine noticed a flower sitting in a vase on the nightstand. “The other mouse must have brought it with her,” she thought, though she felt that the choice of flower was strange. It was awfully early in the year for roses.

#redwall #redwall fanfiction #columbine #martin the warrior #mossflower

[pitviperofdoom]

Finally got to the Redwall parts of Outcast of Redwall! Prepare for impending angry rants about how unfair this child's entire life was, Bella of Brockhall I am coming for you personally

#redwall #redwall reread #outcast of redwall

[mathmusicred]

Recovery Part 2 of 2

Inspiration for Timballisto’s part comes from this post by the great @theredwallrecorder.

~2.6k words

Part 1

Read on AO3

Martin leaned heavily on Gonff’s paw as they shuffled slowly to the dining hall. Most of the bandages had finally been removed a few days earlier, but the muscles in Martin’s limbs had wasted away after nearly a season of disuse. Each day he grew a little stronger, though there were still some days he was too sore to move. Luckily, today was a good day, physically and mentally. Still, Gonff was running through their usual memory checklist they had come up with, just to be sure.

“Where’d we go after we escaped Kotir?” Gonff asked.

“Skipper took us to Camp Willow,” Martin answered easily. “I’d thought you’d drowned for a second, but you were fine, as always.”

Not only was the checklist good for his memory, it helped Martin get his mind off how slow and weak he felt—they were often passed by some creature or other on an errand, and Martin watched their fluid movements with no small degree of envy.

Thankfully, Gonff quickly distracted him. “Who found the first clue to Salamandastron?”

“I did,” Martin recalled. “That hidden drawer knocked the breath out of me right quick.”

“Better you than me!” Gonff snickered.

Martin shook his head and patted Gonff’s belly. “But you’d hardly have felt it, you great gluttonous lardbarrel.”

Gonff sniffed and twitched his whiskers in indignation “Lardbarrel? Gluttonous? Me? You’ve got this all wrong-side-out and sideways, matey! Last I checked, yore the one who’s enjoyed his breakfast in bed for the past season, spoon-fed half the time, too, when you couldn’t be bothered to lift yore own paw!”

“Aye, and who was is that ate two spoonfuls for every bite he fed me?”

“Surely you mean she, Martin ol fellow. Abbess Germaine is a sneak and a thief, an’ that’s what I’ve always said!”

Martin’s stoic demeanor cracked, and soon he was laughing so hard, he had to sit down right there in the hallway.

Gonff, however, was prepared to drag the joke on a bit further. He eased Martin down and then crouched at his side, feigning confusion. “Aww, c’mon, matey, what’re you sittin’ on the floor for? The chairs in the dining hall ain’t good ‘nuff for you anymore?”

“Gonff, please, I—hahahaha! Oh, heeheehee, I can’t, I can’t!” Martin gasped out. At least it didn’t hurt to laugh anymore, even if it did take his strength away when he couldn’t breathe.

With a chuckle, Gonff shook his head. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop—at least ‘til we get you in a proper seat. Up you come, hup! Steady now, Martin, lean up against the wall a moment ‘til your legs catch up with you. There we are! Now, what can you tell me about our first day on the trail to Salamandastron, eh?”

Resuming their slow shuffle, Martin finally caught hold of his giggles and reigned them in. Casting his mind back on that first day of their journey, he smiled wistfully. “That was the day we rescued Chugger, wasn’t it?”

Gonff looked at him strangely. “Who?”

Martin gave him a longsuffering look. “Chugger, the young squirrel we saved from being eaten from the Flitchaye?”

“The what?”

“Runty weasels with knockout smoking herbs? Ring any bells?” Martin prompted, smiling, sure that Gonff was just teasing him again.

There was a beat of silence, however, and Martin noticed an uncharacteristic droop in Gonff’s whiskers. The little mousethief took in a deep breath. “Martin, I have no idea what you’re talking about. The only thing that happened our first day was when we saw those three vermin following us. I suppose one of them was a weasel—was his name Flitchaye? I don’t remember myself.”

Martin shook his head, confused and dispirited. “No. I don’t think I would remember his name, either. Perhaps my mind is making up memories to fill in the gaps. Isn’t that something Abbess Germaine said could happen?”

Gonff didn’t like the new dour mood, so he poked Martin in the ribs. “Aye, ‘s a good thing y’have me as yore matey, matey, or I’d be giving those flying pink toadstools another run!”

Martin offered a brief smile, and Gonff wasn’t satisfied.

“Hey now, once I get you settled to lunch, I’ll go find the Abbess and we’ll figure this out. Now c’mon, give me a big whopper of a smile, or I’ll pull out all yore whiskers and use ‘em for shoelaces!”

That did it. Martin was smiling again, and Gonff talked quickly to keep it that way, breaking into song a moment later, and they managed to arrive at the table without any more memory issues. True to his word, after he got Martin set up with a cheese and leek pasty, October ale, and blackberry flan, Gonff slipped away to find Abbess Germaine.

She was easy enough to find, dozing in the midafternoon autumn sunlight just outside Brockhall, watching over the children who were playing nearby. Gonff took off his hat and wrung it fretfully as he cleared his throat. Germaine came awake and took in his worried hovering with a small frown. “Gonff? Is something wrong?” she asked, pulling herself to her feet.

Gonff popped his hat back on his head and stooped to assist her, naturally allowing her to lean on his paw the same way he had with Martin. “It’s nothing terribly urgent, marm, just a concernin’ conversation I just had with Martin.”

Germaine grasped his paw and pulled him to a stop in the quiet entryway of Brockhall. “Concerning in what way?” she prompted.

Taking his hat in his claws once more, Gonff shuffled his footpaws anxiously. “We were running through our memory check, as usual, but then he started spoutin’ off names of creatures I’ve never heard of, marm. He was downright convinced of ‘em, too. Thought y’might want to speak with him.”

Germaine patted Gonff’s paw. “Indeed I do. Thank you for fetching me. Where is Martin now?”

“In the dining hall,” Gonff said, offering his paw once more.

“Hm, no, that won’t do,” Germaine decided, leaving Gonff’s side and shuffling down the opposite direction from the dining hall. “Ask Bella to carry him to her study. I’d like to talk with our warrior in private. And you, Gonff, will go to the kitchen and eat until we are finished. I’ll wager a pine nut to an acorn that you’ve not had a decent meal yet today, given the hour you arrived this morning. Shame on you, leaving your pretty wife before breakfast! You go eat now, or she’ll come wailing that we’re working the fat right off your bones keeping our dear warrior alive. And I can walk myself down a hallway, thank you! Go on, now, shoo!”

Gonff grinned ruefully. She may be old, but Germaine’s wits were still as quick as a whip. “Yes, marm.”

Germaine had not been sitting at Bela’s desk for very long before she heard the telltale sounds of an undignified warrior mouse being carried by a badger to the study.

“At least let me walk in myself, Bella, please—”

“And wait five seasons for you to crawl across the study? I think not. Gonff said Germaine would like to see you now, so I will deliver you to your destination.”

“This is so humiliating—”

“Martin, you weren’t able to hold a spoon a few weeks ago. You have come a long way, yes, but it’s going to take a great deal of time until you regain your so-called dignity, young mouse.”

Whatever argument Martin might’ve come back with was left unspoken as Bella walked into the study with him cradled in her arms. He set his jaw firmly and didn’t say a word while she set him in her own overstuffed chair.

Once Martin was settled, Bella dusted her paws off and turned to her old friend. “There. Now then, is there anything else you need?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you kindly for delivering my patient,” Germaine said with that bright, smirky smile of hers. “I will call for you when we’re finished.”

“Very good,” Bella nodded, and she took her leave.

Germaine looked Martin over, smiling at his stiff upright posture. “I do apologize for any discomfort you may have felt, Martin, but I was eager to speak to you.”

Martin nodded and relaxed a touch. “Gonff told you what happened?”

The old Abbess folded her paws on the desk and leaned forward. “He said you spoke of creatures he did not know, but I would like you to give me the details, please.”

With a nod, Martin explained the scene he saw in full—he was travelling with Gonff and Dinny, but they heard the telltale sounds of Flitchaye drums, and upon investigation, they found a male squirrelbabe tied to a post in their camp. Martin described the scene and the rescue effort in great detail, clear up to their own rescue by an otter clan, and Germaine listened. At some point she began asking pointed questions, and it soon became clear that there was a fourth member of their party, even before they’d found the squirrel—a hedgehog maid named Trimp.

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Martin said, clenching his paws into fists anxiously. “There was only Gonff, Dinny, and myself who went to Salamandastron.”

“That’s right,” Germaine agreed. “That’s because you were not going to Salamandastron when you found the squirrel.”

Martin’s ears twitched. “What?”

Germaine sat back in her seat and folded her paws into her habit sleeves. “You are not remembering what has happened. No, you are Seeing what will happen, in a future season.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Martin reeled back in his seat for a moment. “I don’t understand. How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Germaine shrugged. “But it is. You may not remember this vision tomorrow, or it may haunt you until it comes to fruition. I do not understand how or why these visions come to somebeasts, but I know that they do.”

Blinking rapidly, Martin shook his head. “I don’t understand. ‘Tis impossible to . . . to see the future! You said before that the mind can make up memories in place of old ones!”

“Yes. But that is not what this is.”

They sat in silence for a few moments as it fully sank in for the young warrior. He sat just as stiffly as before, resting his paws on his knees, but now his head bowed and he shook with silent tears. It was rare that Germaine considered Martin a youngbeast, but here, in this moment, she suddenly remembered that he was scarcely a few seasons into maturity. He had an old head on young shoulders, and he seemed to fully understand the weight of what Germaine had told him.

When Martin spoke, his voice was heavy with emotion. “I don’t want this.”

Germaine sighed, “It may not be for you to decide.”

In a surge of energy, Martin shot to his feet. “I am not some magic fox, Germaine! I am a mouse! A silly, injured little mouse who can barely remember his own friends’ names! Stop making me out to be some—some mystic and let me live my life in peace!”

He turned to the door and made it two steps before his knees buckled and dropped him to the floor. Abbess Germaine rushed to his side, calling, “Martin, Martin you listen to me! You are still weak, and it would be very unwise to strain yourself right now!”

Germaine knelt in front of Martin and helped him sit up, and then she took his face in her paws and lectured him sternly. “I know it’s a shock, I know you don’t want this, but if you suffer from the warrior’s bloodwrath—and you have every symptom indicating that you do—then cultivating this gift of sight may be your best hope of living a peaceful life. Do you understand?”

“No,” Martin breathed, eyes misting with tears. “I don’t understand at all, Mother Abbess. I don’t understand why I’m still living. What more must I do before I may rest?”

Germaine wiped the tears from his face with the gentleness of a true mother. “Because, Martin, someday there will be a squirrelbabe named Chugger, and he will die if you are not there to save him. There may be countless others counting on you, but the fates have decided to show you this one child whose life hangs in the balance with your own. Live, Martin. Live and grow strong again. Save him.”

Martin grasped her wrists and closed his eyes. Then, taking in a deep breath, looked up at her. “I will, Mother Abbess. I will save him.”

“Thank you, Martin. I know you will.” Germaine pulled herself to her feet and dragged Martin up with her, shouldering his arm, and helping him back to Bella’s chair. One she had deposited him there, she gathered up a nearby blanket and tucked it around the young warrior. “Now, you may rest.”

Too physically and emotionally exhausted to protest, Martin snuggled into the chair and closed his eyes.

Germaine shuffled back to Bella’s desk, where she located some ink and parchment which she hoped Bella would not miss, and she began to write the scene from the future that Martin had described.

Poor Martin. He just wanted to be done with all the attention and the idolizing, to live a quiet, peaceful life. Although Germaine herself foresaw this very wish fulfilled in the distant future, there was much yet to do.

After Martin calmed down a bit over the next few days, he and Germaine spoke again and agreed to keep it all quiet. His foresight of the squirrelbabe faded from his memory shortly thereafter. Most of his visions only stayed with him a few days, they came to find out in time, and Germaine quietly kept a record of everything he told her. It became quite useful when construction on the new abbey began in earnest, since Martin had seen it many times by then, and his visions provided details that helped speed the work along quite quickly.

The warrior’s memory of the past, however, remained a quagmire. Speaking with Timballisto helped, but within a few days Martin would forget the entire conversation. Germaine urged Martin to write it all down while he could remember it, but the warrior flatly refused. He always kept his conversations with TB very private, and never spoke a word of his past to his friends. Germaine didn’t understand it.

After TB passed that winter, there was none to help him—by spring, Marin had no recollection of his childhood whatsoever. At times, particularly after he had regained his full strength, Martin forgot he had memory problems at all.

Gonff was his rock during this time. The little thief always seemed to know when to work the memory back up or when to let it slide, and a full year after Martin’s brush with death, his memories became more stable and lasting. His foresight began to diminish at this point, but Germaine thought that was perhaps a great mercy. The sheer amount of wars, bloodshed, and intrigue that would come to their abbey in future seasons was astounding, and it weighed heavily on Martin when he saw it. Thus it was that when Martin inevitably forgot each vision, Germaine decided not to show him her record if it. She alone shouldered the burden of knowing their future, but it was a small price to pay to allow him to live a few seasons of peace.

#mathmusicred writes #fic #martin #gonff #germaine #bella #timballisto #this took a completely unexpected angsty turn #post Mossflower

[redwallthoughts]

Redwall Thoughts

Sunflash hit the genetic jackpot for life-expectancy

Okay, but to expand on this...

At the beginning of Outcast of Redwall, Barlom states that badgers usually live four approximately four generations, which basically equates to ‘they’ll die around the same time as the great-grandchild of somebeast born around the same time’. He also says that Bella is an extraordinary exception to that rule.

Sunflash was born before Verdauga came to Mossflower, though he was still very young at the time of the first rebellion. This would make him around the same age as Gonff, since Gonff mentions that his own parents were involved in the rebellion when he was very young.

Bella is the child of Boar the Fighter. We know from Mossflower that Boar was childhood friends with Old Dinny, the grandfather of Young Dinny, who is traveling with Martin. Since Young Dinny is about the same age as Gonff, this means that Boar has been around for three generations. This fits with what Barlom says, since Boar is obviously getting older (his fur is completely silver), but he’s still able to fight.

By the time of Outcast of Redwall, several more generations have passed. Barlom is the grandson of Timbalisto, who was also about the same age as Gonff. Also, Bryony is the great-granddaughter of Gonff. At this point, Bella has been around for five generations, and it shows in how the other characters treat her. She obviously old and at the end of her life, but she’s allowed to live long enough to have some time with her son.

Here’s the thing...

Sunflash is literally just one generation younger than his mother, which means that he’s been around for four generations. This should make him an old badger, older than Boar was in Mossflower. However, he appears to be middle-aged. There is a stark lack of any signs of aging. In fact, with the health he’s in, it sounds as though he might go on living for another two or three generations. Which would take him to six or seven generations old.

And that, my friends, is why Sunflash hit the genetic jackpot for life-expectancy.

#Obviously it comes from Bella's mother's side of the family #Redwall #Redwall Thoughts #Outcast of Redwall #Sunflash #Sunflash the Mace #Bella #Bella of Brockhall #Boar #Boar the Fighter

[lostmidnightwriter]

Gonff: *goes off with his king shit*

Bella:

#girl i felt that #redwall #redwall series #brian jacques #somewhere in yhe dark forest #bella is watching Constance trying to discipline Mattimeo #and is like #it's obvious that Bella loves Gonff #but that woman has had a thousand migraines because of him #then Martin joined him #and poor Bella is just not getting any rest anymore #bella of brockhall #gonff #redwall gonff #martin the warrior

[grifalinas]

directium replied to your post “directium replied to your post “Anyway if you like badgers don’t...”

....Okay so the first badger (at least when it comes to characters) that popped into my head was the one from Once Upon A Forest so now I'm losing my FUCKING MIND at that visual

I don’t know who that is?

I always think of Redwall. Bella of Brockhall fucked my wife.

#directium #replies made