The elderly abbott flicked his tail as he waited for Jill to shoulder the bag, and patted her shoulder affectionately as they resumed walking.
The question wasn't a new one to him -- he'd asked it to himself many years ago. Any beast with half a brain and a desire to help simply had to. Rummaging through his robes, the squirrel produced an apple and a small pocket knife. Expertly, his wizened paws diced it up -- and he offered a slice to Jill.
"Well! I can't say I've been in many a fight m'self..." he mused, munching on his own apple slice as he thought. "...but I seem to recall you getting into a scrap or two!" The squirrel looked at her almost knowingly, an affectionate grin on his face.
"Hope! Hope, Jill! Tell me... When y'go headfirst into a brawl, are y'despairing? Thinking about the insurmountable challenge y'face? Or... or..."
The elderly squirrel stumbled for words, and balled his fist up in frustration. With a little hop, he swung a wild haymaker, robes flapping in quite the undignified manner. "... do y'cock yer fist back, and let 'er rip, hopin' for vict'ry? T'make a difference?" he asked, voice swelling with passionate pint sized old man fury.
The question wasn't a new one to him -- he'd asked it to himself many years ago. Any beast with half a brain and a desire to help simply had to. Rummaging through his robes, the squirrel produced an apple and a small pocket knife. Expertly, his wizened paws diced it up -- and he offered a slice to Jill.
"Well! I can't say I've been in many a fight m'self..." he mused, munching on his own apple slice as he thought. "...but I seem to recall you getting into a scrap or two!" The squirrel looked at her almost knowingly, an affectionate grin on his face.
"Hope! Hope, Jill! Tell me... When y'go headfirst into a brawl, are y'despairing? Thinking about the insurmountable challenge y'face? Or... or..."
The elderly squirrel stumbled for words, and balled his fist up in frustration. With a little hop, he swung a wild haymaker, robes flapping in quite the undignified manner. "... do y'cock yer fist back, and let 'er rip, hopin' for vict'ry? T'make a difference?" he asked, voice swelling with passionate pint sized old man fury.
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