They reached a simple but sturdily-built cottage in a clearing.  A chopping block and firewood by the door showed recent signs of use, and a well-tended garden lay nearby.  Dandin and Mariel strode up to the door, and he knocked.  There was no answer.  He tried again.  Silence.  The two warriormice looked at each other.  “What now?” Dandin asked.
     “Well, my paws could use a rest.  Let’s just stay here until someone shows up.”
     “All right.”
     They sat down on the ground, sheltering from the rain underneath the eaves of the cottage.  After about fifteen minutes, the drizzle began to taper off.  Soon a few peeks of sunlight poked through the low, grey clouds.
     Mariel and Dandin had been waiting for about a half hour when footsteps began crunching toward them through the leaves.  They stood up in anticipation and watched for the source of the sound.
     A young vixen with obsidian eyes came through the trees, swinging a small burlap bag.  She was humming contentedly to herself, but stopped abruptly when she saw her visitors.  “Who are you?” she asked warily, ducking behind a tree.
     “Don’t be afraid.  We don’t mean you any harm,” Mariel said.
     The vixen peered anxiously around the tree trunk, her dark eyes filled with suspicion.  “What are you doing here?”
     Dandin stepped forward.  “We’re looking for a fox named Longbrush.  Do you know where we can find her?”
     The vixen lowered her eyes.  “You can’t.  Find her, I mean.  She died last winter.”
     “Oh.  I’m sorry,” said Dandin.
     “You wouldn’t be Softbrush, by any chance, would you?” Mariel asked.
     The vixen looked up in surprise.  “Yes.”  She lowered an eyebrow suspiciously.  “How do you know my name?”
     “We knew your mother.  And we knew you, too, but you were too young to remember,” Dandin said.
     Softbrush finally came out from behind the tree and cautiously walked into the clearing toward the two mice.  “Wait a minute...my mother told me about you.  You’re the mice from Redwall who saved me, aren’t you?”
     “That’s right,” Mariel said.
     Dandin decided to get right down to business.  “Your mother offered to repay us for saving you.  Redwallers don’t normally accept rewards, but our Abbot is gravely ill, and we need a healer.”
     “I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Softbrush said quickly, heading for her door.
     “Did your mother teach you any healing skills?” Mariel asked.
     Softbrush shut the door tightly and locked it without answering.  Dandin and Mariel stood awkwardly, perplexed by Softbrush’s strange behavior.
    No amount of knocking could bring a response from the fox inside.
     Dandin sighed.  “Now what do we do?”