Taggerung Quotes

>> Friday, January 29, 2010




Picture by Cybercatmia
"We don't plan on wasting time at the wayside, do we, Deyna?" From his mother's arms, the baby otter gave a rough squeak. Rillflag nodded in his direction. "He said no." All three burst out laughing.

You can get a lot of things done in dreams.

"Marvelous places, kitchens. Full of food, y'know."

"Aye, I've seen friends too, good companions, die and pass over to the silent streams and sunlight glades. Oh, I'm not the hard old warrior like everybest thinks I am. I've grieved and shed tears, long and loud, for my departed loved ones. Don't be ashamed to weep; 'tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us."

Gruven pointed at Tagg and yelled, "A false trail! You sent me on a false trail!" The Taggerung rose slowly, wiping a paw across his mouth. "And you were clever enough to follow it. Well done, Gruven!"

"My first is third,/ like the sound of the sea,/My second’s the center of you, not me,/My third is the end of him but not you,/My fourth starts a picture, not a view,/My fifth is in bean, though not in been,/My sixth and seventh start seldom seen./Sunrise and sunset, warmth and cold, /Put them together a sign will unfold."

"Gruven Zann! Juskazann!/Take our name, rule our clan,/Heed the voice of the Chieftain now dead,/Bring back to this Seer the traitor’s head!"

Curling his tail soulfully, the assistant cook spoke one word as if it were a prayer. "Fwirl!"

Broggle sighed. "Isn't she just...just...Isn't she?" Gundil lay flat on his back peering up into the foliage. "She'm surrpintly is, zurr. You'm a gurt lucky beast!"

"Hush now you humming bee,/Soft shadows creep,/Silent in summer’s eve,/Sleep baby sleep."

Ruskem was snoring gently in his chair, but Nimbalo was talking in his sleep, sobbing too. In the dim glow of the turf fire, Tagg watched his friend tossing about on the bed, and listened to the harvest mouse's disjointed ramblings. "But Papa, I've done all the work. I'm hungry. Ow! Ow! Please don't beat me, Papa, I've done all the work. Where's Mama? I want my mama! What...oh! Mama, please come back..." Nimbalo sobbed heartbreakingly.

Vallug stood to one side deferentially. "Good idea, mate. After you." Eefera did a mock bow, but stayed where he was. "Nay, friend, you go first." They stared hard at each other, eye to eye, then both broke out into false hearty laughter and strode off together. Neither of the two wanted to expose his back to the other.

"Keep that footpaw still, ye great ruffian, or I'll sling yer in the water!" Jurkin chuckled at the idea. "Savage liddle beast, ain't 'e?" Nimbalo opened one eye and growled, "one more word out o' you, needlebritches, an' you'll find out why they calls me Nimbalo the Slayer!"

"Oh, and what does Boorab mean by A and B the C of D? Sounds like some kind of code." "I asked him once. He said it's some old military saying," Filorn explained. "The first letters of the phrase above and beyond the call of duty."

"Mateys don't tell otherbeasts their secrets."

"Fidlededee, laddie buck, y've never been in a real pea souper of a fog. I remember one time I got caught in a fog so bally thick I had to cut my way out with a knife, wot!" Nimbalo loomed up like a small blanketed ghost and sat with them. "Huh, that's nothin'. I was in a mountain fog once, they're the worst kind, couldn't see my paw behind my back, or me tail if'n I looked forward. 'Twas so thick I saw a frog walkin' on it!" A voice spoke from behind Nimbalo. "Mountain fogs are mere wisps compared to a good marsh fog. When I was younger we used to go out for marsh fogs, they were so thick and soft. I'd take my needles with me and knit them into blankets for the infirmary!"
***
"You fell into a giant trifle an' ate your way out?" Boorab stared at the mousebabe with something akin to hero worship in his eyes.
He patted his small fat stomach. "Yip, h'I did, sir!"
The hare's gaze misted over as he imagined what it would be like to fall into a monster trifle and eat his way out. "You lucky blighter."

1 Comments:

Margaret W. January 30, 2010 at 11:29 AM  

One of my favorites in the series. :D

I Am An Otter

You're an otter, mate! Another good friend of Redwall, you are a natural swimmer and a deadly fighter especially with a long bow or javellin. Camp Willow is your home, just as Redwall is your second home. You have a good heart and a strong sense of loyalty. You absolutely love Shrimp and Hotroot soup, living by the motto "Ain't nothing 'otter for an Otter!".

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