Three young creatures, the otter twins Bagg and Runn, accompanied by Grubb, their molefriend, hauled a small beech log between them along the path to Redwall Abbey. The intrepid trio kept stopping to clear away the snowdrift building up in front of the log as they dragged it through the snow. Singing lustily, they pelted each other with snowballs, their breath rising in white plumes as they ran around the beech log.
“Yaow! You’m a drefful villyun, Baggo, leggo oi!” “Hahah! I’ll save you, Grubb. Take that!” “Missed me! You couldn’t hit the Abbey gate if you was stooden in front of it, Runn!”
“Ho, couldn’t I then? Well, ‘ave some of this, mate!”
The young otter flung the snowball, Bagg ducked. Unaware that two travellers were coming along the path from the north, they hurled snowballs wildly at each
“Oof! Great seasons, go easy there!”
One of the travellers, a large sturdy hedgehog, had been struck by a snowball. He wiped snow from his snout with the edge of his cloak. The three young ones stopped throwing and hung their heads sheepishly. Grubb took it on himself to apologize.
