Heblin of Redwall, the tall and suculint warrior of the famous abbey felt chanels of joy running thorough him as he once again would made the gathering members of the abbey proud as he struged back from a long hunt for the meat they would have at the anual auttom feast. Looking beside him was his old friend George the hare.

Many made fun of him because of his name, espeshily the dibins, who loved to play and pull the unusually thick coat of hair that only grew on his springy legs. "I dare say old boy, that was a hunt to be proud of wot, wot!" Heblin only smiled to see his friend rise to the occation of joking with darsin the spara. He knew she traked down the beast and was going to give her credit for the kill but she insisted that he had more people to impress. He knew what she meant and kept his mouth shut after that.

The silence was disturbed when a terrified woodlander came screaming like a banchey screaming, "monster! Monster!!!" Heblin quickly drew the long sword of Martin the Warrior, its shining blade temporarily causing him to wince and smiling to himself that he will soon be able to fight once more. "What is it my friend?" he asked "they're chasing me!" the terrified woodlander replied "Don't worry, it is I, Helblin of Redwall!" Only then it raised its head to look at him it looked like it was going to say something but a arrow flew by his face and ran into the back of the cart carring their to be eaten beast. Only in his hunting tunic, we was not entirely prepared to fight... but George was.

"Eat arrow you slimy toads! Wot, wot!" he screamed as he returned fire with his own arrows, it was then when he noticed a gang of rats in ragged clothes came rushing like a stampeed throught the forest toward them. Heblin counted seven and subtracted two when he cut the two closest clean in half. He wished he did it less brutal as pieces of guts flew across his tunic and his face. He ignored the urge to wipe his face as he attacked another. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his friends hard at work, he saw three downed from George and Darsin's attacks. Then he saw it, an armored rat emerging slowly with a crossbow about to shoot Darsin. He lunged past a swipe of one of the rats and glided through the air toward his foe; however the Rat was quick and moved out of the way and drew a small but deadly sword about a foot long.

Heblin made the first move by preforming a downward slash as he jumped, the Vermin easily dodged and made to kick him square in the chest but he was quick enough to spin out of the way and lop of its other foot, causing him to tumble and hit the ground hard. Heblin used the chance to end its life and stabed right through his armor and instantly killed him. Satisfied but mildly tired, Heblin returned to his friends, who just warded the last rat off into the orange sunset. Deblin gave him a nod of assurance as he returned the gesture the now serene woodlander asked him if he could come to the abbey. He could not refuse and as they walked back with his friends toward the now visible abbey he could only sum up today with three words: Life is good.

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