Word of Cheek's return soon spread like wildfire through Redwall. It didn't take long for Joslyn to be accosted by Abbey Sisters and other female creatures wanting to see the young otter. The Skipper's daughter proudly showed off her son to any who approached her. In honour of the three arrivals old Abbot Alf announced that an impromptu evening feast would be held. While Cheek was pleased to again sit at a Redwall feasting table, he was troubled to hear that both afternoon tea and supper were to be canceled in order to give the cooks time to prepare.

With Joslyn otherwise occupied, and Basil departing for a pre-feast nap, Cheek decided to seek out a little peace and quiet. He climbed the stairs leading towards the infirmary; nobeast would be looking for him up here. Slinking in through the door he nearly banged right into Sister May, who was busy hanging herbs to dry.

"Whoa, sorry Sister May, didn't see y'there." The otter tugged an ear in greeting, cautiously walking around the infirmary keeper.

The mouse Sister smiled and finished her task. "It is good to see you again Cheek." She spoke in her typical cheerful tone, never too overrun with emotion, although Cheek could tell she was dearly pleased he had returned. "Basil has done little else but talk about you since you left."

At this the otter felt his heart grow heavy with regret. Perhaps he shouldn't have left with Joslyn, maybe his place had been at Redwall. Seeing the look of distress on Cheek's face, the kind mouse was quick to put his mind at ease.

"Your father loves you more than any other creature, and he is proud that you went roving when you did. All I heard was how grown you had become, and how the travels would make you a wiser beast. "

"How is he?" Cheek asked the question that had played heavily on his mind.

"He is old, Cheek." Sister May responded, she returned to hanging her drying herbs saying "Last winter he took with pneumonia. I thought we would lose him for sure. Then, to the surprise of everybeast he turns right around. I shouldn't say he made a full recovery of course, but, how did that old hare put it? Oh yes, something about blood and vinegar. "

The otter smiled, helping the mouse collect the already dried ingredients.

"He's been waiting on you I think." Seeing the look of sadness come upon Cheek once more she added "Do not be sad my dear, Basil has lives a long and happy life. He knows as well as anybeast that the time to go comes for all of us. So many of our elders have passed these past few seasons; Ambrose Spike, Mr. Fieldmouse, and John Churchmouse just to name a few. Now that you are back, I think he sees that he's leaving you in good paws."

Cheek tried to muster up a smile. Her words were true, but heavy on the otter. He knew Basil was an older beast when he became his guardian, but he never really thought about losing him.

Letting the infirmary keeper get back to her work, he roamed the Abbey hallway running a paw over the sandstone brick works. He recalled his younger seasons, not so long ago. Days when he and the other abbey youth would cause terror, running through the cloisters, pinching treats from the kitchen, and generally making nuisances of themselves. It was a wonder the Brothers and Sisters of Redwall even permitted him to stay there for schooling. For all the trouble he caused, Basil was always warm and kind. Even when he lost his temper and shouted till his cheeks puffed up and his ears went ridged. It was with that kindness, coupled with seasons of military discipline that Basil had been able to mould Cheek from a troublesome orphan to the praised member of Redwall society.

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While nobeast at Redwall would ever turn down a Redwall feast, the otter didn't really think he deserved one hosted in honour of his return. Joslyn could only laugh at his modesty. "Look at it this way. Ain't for you 'tis for the little 'un."

This cheered Cheek up immensely, a feast for his young kit that he could accept without any pangs of embarrassment. Old Abbot Alf was happy to play along with the otter's new found sense of humility. Such a trait was not known to be a virtue of otters or hares, perhaps some of abbey life had rubbed off on him after all. Redwallers one and all were overjoyed to lavish affections on the young creature. Streambuck came to like these Redwallers, and their ways. Of course he was too small to vocalize his opinions, or fully comprehend the world around him. In his young dibbun ways he knew these to be good beasts. Gaining courage, he would stray from his mother, allowing himself to be coddled and adored by anybeast who happened upon him.

Sister Pansy and her assistants had been busy at work preparing for the feast. A large feasting table was moved out to the lawn. The weather was far too pleasant to dine in Cavern Hole. The Abbey dibbuns fashioned barkcloth lanterns under the direction of their school teacher Tess. Foremole-in-training Bungo dug a large roasting pit for the fish Matthias and Mattimeo landed for the event.

Mice and other woodlanders darted this way and that from the kitchen to the lawn, bringing food and drink to the festive table. Basil on one of the long benches, a cushion was brought out to make him more comfortable. His otter son stayed close to his side, watching the food being laid out before them.

"Move that trifle a smidge closer, there's a good lad." The old hare requested.

Cheek was quick to comply, grinning as further requests were made. " An' that mushroom and cheese pasty, rather fond of those dontcha know. Now then, laddie buck fill me tankard up with some of that cool October Ale. 'tis the stuff brewed by Jube Stump. That spiky scoundrel tells me he can brew ales as well if not better than Ambrose Spike. Absolute tosh I say wot wot."

Cheek poured his father up a tankard of the amber coloured ale. The hare took it in his aged paw holding it up to his nose and smelling it before taking a long dram. Smacking his lips he closed his eyes, savouring the flavour critically. "Seems the blighter can brew after all." He said flatly then wasted no time breaking into the pasty before him.

Nobeast really seemed to mind that Basil had started before the Abbot said grace. In his late seasons the hare had become somewhat more peculiar, although none of the Redwallers believed this could be possible.

Once everybeast assembled the Abbot stood up from his place at the head of the table. Politely ignoring that Basil was face and eyes into plum and pear pudding he said the grace.

"Berries, fruits, tuber and vine.

Friends who gather through damp and shine

Savory herb, and honey sweet

Welcome one and all to eat."

There was a resounding Amen from those assembled, and everybeast tucked into the fare at will. Few rules dictated how a beast could feast at Redwall. Hot was as good as cold, sweet as good as savory. No strict order of main course or desert was given. Cheek, not being a creature to shy away from food happily accepted anything that came within his paw.

Piping hot bowls of shrimp n' hotroot soup had been specially prepared for the returning otters. Joslyn sat beside Cheek; young Streambuck nestled on her lap. Careful not to spill a drop she helped to feed her young son great spoonfuls of the spicy meal. Sam squirrel watched on, with a look that appeared a cross of horror and amazement.

"Isn't that a bit hot for the little tyke." He asked, concerned for young Streambuck.

Laughing the otter shook her head. "Not at all Sam. 'tis good for the little 'un."

Not one to argue with otter logic, he went back to his white cheese and nutbread loaf.

Basil chewed away at a hearty portion of grilled leeks. "Could never abide the spicy foods." He spoke through mouthfuls. "Burns the tongue and detracts from the rest of the scoff." Taking a slice of bread from a passing kitchen server he buttered it and promptly scoffed it down. Within minutes he was sneezing uncontrollably. "I say, wot's in this." He gasped between sneezes.

The young kitchen mouse bowed a quick curtsy. "It is Sister Pansy's thyme and fennel bread Mr. Hare."

Basil of course was allergic to thyme; it always caused him to get a stuffy nose whenever he encountered the stuff. Sneezing some more, Cheek filled a beaker of cool water passing it to his father.

"Here drink this down, it will help."

The old hare did as he was bid. Then, blew his nose with a spotted handkerchief. Holding up the beaker he tutted. "Couldn't find any more of Jube's October Ale, eh, young thingamy?"

The evening wore on with singing and dancing, and lots and lots of food. Little Streambuck crawled into his father's lap, sucking on a sweet biscuit contently. His once clean tunic was now spattered with jam, pudding, and gravy. Despite his mother's efforts the little imp had gotten into just about everything. "So much like his father." Joslyn was heard to say, on more than one occasion. She didn't truly mind. Clothes could always be washed, and a young otter could always be forgiven such things. This was the way of Redwallers.