4. ... To Acquire Wisdom, One Must Observe.

[Cobb]

Mrs. Flowers squinted up into the cloud-filtered sun. It was almost time to break for lunch, and her crew was getting restless. The moles had been clearing the abbey paths of snow since the early morning and were just about done. With all the expected guests for the feast tonight, it was important to get this finished quickly.

"Alroight, moles, we'm be jus--"

Mrs. Flowers was interrupted by the Matthias bell pealing loudly. The moles looked up sharply at the belltower and began to brush off claws to head inside to eat.

Another bell rang out. Both bells continued to echo across the snowy landscape.

"Burr! That be th'murgency bells! Biggulm," Mrs. Flowers addressed her crew leader, "Oi need t'go t'ee meetin'. You'm be in charge yurr naow."

She hitched up her skirts a bit and headed towards the kitchen doors as quickly as she could. Thankfully they had already cleared the snow on these pathways.

The door to the kitchens opened without a sound and Mrs. Flowers was greeted with a blast of fragrant air. She took a moment to sniff deeply.

"Hey! Close that door b'fore ya let out all th' warm air," somebeast yelled from farther in the kitchen.

The mole stepped inside, closed the door, and wiped her footpaws on the mat. She removed her hat and stuffed it into her apron pocket before moving through to Cavern Hole. Her skirts left a wet trail behind her as she scurried out of the way of the carefully choreographed chaos that was Friar Timothy's kitchen.

Upon entering Cavern Hole, Mrs. Flowers was greeted with a flurry of activity. Most of the expected beasts were already there, with a few unexpected beasts thrown in the mix. Abbess Gentian was seated at the head of the largest table, her eyes closed and chin resting on steepled paws. Mrs. Flowers could practically hear the throaty growl the imposing mouse was holding in. Irritation radiated from her so strongly that nobeast dared to sit near her.  Always only a few steps away, Paten, her faithful companion and right-paw beast, stood, her keen eyes missing nothing. Mrs. Flowers caught her eye and waved. The hare nodded back.

Further down the table, the stoic recorder was dusting sand over some wet ink in her current volume. Elsine's eyes darted between the Skipper and a shrew with a red headband before she bent her head back to the book. The shrew was taller than his companions by almost a head, so he had to lean down to whisper with them. When he smiled at the shrew-maid by his side, the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"This is outlandish!"

A loud cry drew Mrs. Flowers's eyes to the knot of otters in the corner. Skipper Ash had his paws thrown in the air and looked to be about two seconds from stomping out of the room. The other otters shushed him and drew him back to their group.

Near the hearth, the infirmary keeper held her wingtips out to warm them by the fire. She clacked her beak worriedly and removed her dripping scarf. Flitting up to a bare nail in the wall, Peri hung the offending garment to dry and settled herself back on the stones of the hearth. She glanced at the badgermum and Bo in the corner.

Mrs. Flowers followed Peri's glance to look at the pair of badgers. Susan had backed the younger badger into the corner and was trying to glare at him imperiously while gesturing for him to turn around. The perpetual squint the badgermum employed to see properly made this impossible, and the situation would have been funny if there wasn't an emergency to see to. Mrs. Flowers stifled a smile. Bo shook his head with wide eyes and edged around the schoolmarm to take a seat at the table as far from the abbess as possible.

Over to her right, the mole heard a soft rattling of quills and shuffling of footpaws. She looked over to see Nibs, the cellarhog, standing uncomfortably against the stones.

Crossing to him, Mrs. Flowers joined her old friend in holding up the wall and leaned in. "Do 'ee be knowin' what all th' hubbub be furr?"

"No, Celandine. But Susan looks awfully worried over there." Nibs waved his paw in the general direction of the badgermum who was now looking around the room frantically and chewing the inside of her cheek.

"Burr aye! Oi never be seein' 'ee look so afeared. Summat must 'ave spooked 'ee whoile they'm be out in th' woods with th' dibbuns."

Mrs. Flowers and Nibs had known each other since their dibbun days and settled into a comfortable companionship while watching the other beasts in the room. Nibs was a bit older than her, but he had always looked out for the mole and stopped the other beasts from laughing at her name. While they were standing there, Jaskia came into the room through the same doorway Mrs. Flowers had entered not long before.

The dour hare strode through the room and plopped into a seat next to Elsine. The badger and the hare looked at each other and both shifted their seats a bit further apart. Elsine went back to scribbling in her book. Jaskia's nose twitched a bit, and she removed her hat and set it on the table in front of her.

The slapping of sandals on the stairs made all eyes turn towards the entryway from the great hall.

Friar Timothy burst into the room, the color high in his cheeks, little bits of snow falling from his sandals and fur to leave miniature puddles in his wake. He stopped just before the table and leaned over, paws on his knees, panting. "I ran all the way from the belltower," he exclaimed to nobeast in particular.

In the quiet that followed his proclamation, Abbess Gentian stood and quietly waited for all attention to turn her way. It didn't take long for everybeast to look to her, each feeling a bit like they had been called in for a reprimanding.

The mouse held her paws out to the table. "Let's all take a seat now so we can finish this meeting quickly. It is a very busy day, and I don't have time for trivialities." She looked at the recorder, "Elsine, please move to the seat next to me."

Everybeast started to move towards the table. Mrs. Flowers and Nibs chose seats next to one another in the middle. Jaskia was on the mole's left, and the friar huffed as he fell into the chair across from her.

Once everybeast was settled in, Gentian took her own seat. "Before we begin with the emergency, I suppose some introductions are in order." She looked pointedly at the shrew with the headband. "This is Rubtus, Log-A-Log of the shrews. He has brought some of his companions to engage in peace accords over the Mossflower waterways," she said, her voice overly stiff, the disdain palpable to beasts who'd known her long enough.

She paused and turned to the grey squirrel. "Since it seems you are the one who has raised all this fuss, Friar Timothy, why don't you tell us what we are here for?"

"I- I mean- You see-" The squirrel sputtered and looked around the table for help.

Fortunately, Peri stepped in to save him. "Mother Abbess," she chirped, "while on the field trip earlier today," she paused and looked from side to side, "well, it seems... Acermusthavewanderedoff!"

The bullfinch let out a huff of air and looked down at the table.

There were a few gasps around the table. Timothy let out a small sob and sniffled.

"Acer WHAT," the abbess snapped as she stood from her chair. She stopped and composed herself. Sitting back down, she modulated her tone. "He did what, now, Sister Peri?"

The infirmary keeper wilted under her gaze and looked away again. This time, the badgermum came to the rescue. "Acer must have wandered off, Abbess. When I counted the dibbuns inside, he wasn't there."

"So why didn't you find him, Susan?"

It was Bo's turn to explain. "Well, Abbess, ma'am. We tried. A bit. And we thought he maybe got stuck - but he didn't. And Peri flew a bit. But, well, he just isn't here," he finished lamely.

The three beasts that had been on the field trip nodded, looking from one to another.

A cacophony of voices piped up into the quiet.

"We have to find him-"
"How do ye lose a dibbun-"
"Why does this concern us-"
"What if he's hurt-"
"I left my garden for this-"

Mrs. Flowers cleared her throat, softly at first, then louder when nobeast heard her the first time. As quiet returned to Cavern Hole she said, "Et seems t' Oi, we'm need t' be arseken wurr ee wudd go."

Nibs clapped her on the back. "Quite right, Mrs. Flowers. Where does the tyke like to disappear to?"

"Why do we need to be here for this," one of the shrews piped up. Rubtus shot him a look, but the rest nodded their heads in agreement. They began to talk to each other, quietly, at the end of the table.

Soon, the otters had formed their chairs into a group and were chattering away together.

As more and more beasts started to break away from the meeting to hold their own councils, Mrs. Flowers found herself, Nibs, and Timothy to be the only beasts left at their section of the table.

The mole had always had a soft spot for the friar. Most beasts did. It was hard not to enjoy the company of the jovial squirrel, and he always had the best pies. Mrs. Flowers recalled with fondness the plum pie she had found outside her and Murbol's chamber door each year on their anniversary. Plum had been her wife's favorite, and it had been five years now since Mrs. Flowers had eaten any. Perhaps it was time to try some again at tonight's feast.

"Friar, will 'ee be havin' any-" she started, but stopped when she saw the tears in his eyes.

"Oh, Timothy," the mole took the squirrel's paw in her own, "we'm will be foindin' young Acer. Doan't 'ee be worryin' yorezelf."

He gave a small nod and looked down at their paws on the table.

"But what if he's hurt, Mrs. Flowers? Acer can be trouble, I know, but he doesn't mean to be. He just wants an adventure, you know?"

"Hurr, Oi be knowin that." The mole looked at Nibs and nudged him.

"Aye, Tim," the hedgehog piped up. "You'll see. Acer will come trudging 'ome through the snow soon enough. And 'e'll probably 'ave a trophy of some sort with 'im, too!"

The squirrel looked up at his friends, gratitude in his eyes.

"Oo arr! Remember th' time 'ee bringed a bumblybee into yore kitchen an' set et loose? Arthur an' th' others be jumpin' about an' flappin' they'm arms loike birds."

The trio laughed at the memory, but sobered as a sigh and some tears escaped from Timothy.

Mrs. Flowers patted his paw. "Et'll be alroight."