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It was early evening deep in midwinter. Millions of snowflakes, glinting like stars, fell to the ground, covering the world in it's cold embrace. A solitary figure, a middle-aged fox, cut a path through the gleaming white. He was taller and broader than most foxes, his body covered in scars and tattoos in equal measure, wearing a jerkin, leggings, and cloak of such dark green they appeared black, and black seabots. The silver fang that had replaced a lost incisor, set with a small blue gemstone, shimmered in the early moonlight. On his back he carried a haversack and his prized possession, the sword that once belonged to his father. It's cousin, his father's dagger set with a blue gem in the hilt, was strapped to his ankle. He was festooned with multiple daggers, including throwing daggers, but this was the only one that mattered.

He shook off the snow that had settled on the top of his hood and gazed up at the sky. Normally he would've scouted out a campsite and started setting up by now, but food was scarce, and he knew dry wood for a fire would be even more so. Plus, the tall spire of some kind of redstone castle or fortress was closer now than when he had sighted it earlier that afternoon. He figured a couple more hours march was all it would take to reach it, and hoped the inhabitants wouldn't be so intimidated by his fierce appearance they would deny him one night with a roof over his head. He absentmindedly clutched the small silver ring hanging on a leather strip around his neck and set off once more. *********************************************************** Song stood on the ramparts over the main gate, as she did every evening, surveying the Abbey of Redwall, the massive red sandstone building of which she was Mother Abbess. The young squirrel thought the courtyard, with it's orchards and gardens, shone like a pearl while the frozen Abbey pond resembled sparkling glass. 'Could it really have been only five seasons since I came to this magical place of plenty with her family,' she thought to herself, hugging her voluptuous cloak tighter around her, 'and could I really have been Abbess for four whole seasons?' Her thoughts were interrupted by a paw grasping her shoulder.

"Thought I might find you up here, missie, I mean Mother Abbess." Song chuckled musically as she turned around to see the face of her father, Janglur, a hefty, jolly squirrel with hooded eyes and a rogue-ish smile. "Still as silent as every, eh father?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "Not 'ard when the one you're sneakin' up on is deep in thought. Speakin' of which, a trifle for your's."

Song turned her back to her beloved Abbey and gazed up the snow-covered road. "I was just thinking about how we came here, the war with the Marlfoxes, bringing the stolen tapestry back to it's rightful home. Could that all have happened so recently?"

"Aye, my dear, seems alot longer ago than it was. Thank the seasons we've had peace ever since then. And thank the seasons we 'ave such a good leader."

The younger squirrel blushed and shoved her father affectionately. "I've had the best beasts any Abbess could ask for to help me learn and guide me. You, Cregga, grandpa Gawjo, Rusvul..."

Janglur interrupted his daughter, "speaking of Rus, 'ere comes Dann." Dannflor, Dann for short, the Redwall Champion and son of Rusvul Reguba, was jogging towards the wallsteps, his pawprints leaving a dotted trail back to the main door of the Abbey. They waved as he ascended the stairs and moved swiftly towards them. "Evening, Dann, what brings you out here?"

"Evening," Dann said, shivering and catching his breath, "either of you seen Gubb and Winny?"

"The mouse and molemaid," Janglur asked.

"Aye, seems they've gone missing."

"No, we haven't seen hide nor tail of 'em, but we'll help you look for them," Janglur said as he and Song strode towards the wallstairs with purpose. As they plowed their way through the powdery snow blanketing the Abbey yard toward the main building, none of the usually observant squirrels noticed the small wicker gate in the east wall hanging open just a hairsbreadth with tiny paw prints leading out. ***************************************************************** It was just at that moment Gubb and Winny, the two babes in question, were greatly regretting their choice to go adventuring on such a cold night. They had managed to walk a surprisingly long way through the snow into Mossflower before stopping, empting their haversack of candied chestnuts and oatcakes with meadowcream, the only food they had packed, and climbed inside for warmth.

"Oi dearly colded, Gubb," Winny the mole said as they huddled close to share body heat, "dis choild redy to be goin back to Reddywa' noiw."

Though Gubb didn't want to say it for fear of upsetting his friend, he was completely lost. Everything looked the same in the moonlit night, and the falling snow had covered their tracks.

"Didjer fink a'ventrin' woul' be easy? We 'um barry star'ed."

"Well well well, I ain't never 'eard a talkin' sack afore!" Both Dibbuns, the collective term for all babes at Redwall, let out terrified squeals as the opening of their makeshift dwelling opened to reveal the brutal, scarred face of an aging fox. "Shh, quiet me lovelies, no need to fear. Me name's Argo, what's yours'," he asked, a friendly grin creasing his harsh features.

The mousebabe was the one to answer, putting on a brave face, "Me bein' Gubb and this'n be Winny. We be war'ors, so 'ou be'er not try nufink."

"Hoho, no worries me matey, I'd be a fool to fight against real warriors like you two. So tell me, me little villains, why you out 'ere alone? Your mamas close by?"

Gubb looked at the fox with a look of pity, as if he just asked the dumbest question he'd ever heard, "O'course not, we'em from 'edwall!"

"Redwall, eh? What's it look like?"

"It boi a goint place," Winny answered, finally over her initial fear, "bigger'n moi an' Gubb put togerer! An' it red, too."

"Big an' red, must be the place I was marchin' to. Well mateys, what say ye vicious rogues 'elp protect this weary trav'ler on the way?"

"OK, jus' amember we be 'orrible killas," Gubb said as he and Winny stepped out of the haversack and stood before the fox.

"I'll mind me manners, but we gotta do somethin' to keep ya warm, ain't really dressed for the cold, me buckoes," Argo said, looking down at the tiny mouse and mole sharing just one old blanket for warmth, "Think I may 'ave an idea if'n ye don't mind getting close."

Argo removed his own cloak and tied it like a sling across one shoulder, then scooped up the babes and deposited them inside so they hung close to his body, "Alright, everybeast comfy?"

"Yes soir," Winny said, answering for both of them.

"Then let's set sail, me bloodthirsty babes! And no need for the 'sir' talk, jus' call me Argo.