It was deep midwinter in Mossflower Woods. Snowflakes drifted gently to the ground to disappear within the snow already on the forest floor. All was still and quiet, as the fire burned low in Cavern Hole at Redwall Abbey. In front of it sat many creatures, squirrels, otters, moles, hedgehogs, mice, and hares. Sitting in an armchair sat one old squirrel in particular, Wild Doogy Plumm. Across from him sat his best friend, Rakkety Tam MacBurl along with his wife Armel. Around them sat Tam's child and grandchildren, as well as many of their friends, including Ferdimond, Kersey and Dauncy de Mayne, Foremole Mudge, Sister Mimsie, and in another armchair sat Abbot Burlop. As the older creatures sat and talked of the old days Tam's grandchildren who were named Rakkety Tam II and Linmelda came up to him and asked.
“Can you tell us a story Grandad? Pleeeeeeeeeease?”
Tam smiled down at his two little grandsquirrels and said in his northern accent.
“A story ye say? Well now, why should ye two be wantn' a story from me? I was never very good at story telln'. Why don't ye ask yore Great Uncle Doogy over there? He'll give ya' a braw tale won't ya' Doogy mate?”
Doogy's accent was broader then Tam's because he came from farther north.
The two small squirrels ran over to Doogy and grabbed on to his footpaws shouthing.
“Yes, yes! Tell us a story please Great Uncle Doogy!!”
The highland squirrel winked across at his friend and then said to the two little squirrels.
“Aye, ah'll tell ya' a braw tale. And yore auld grandaddy is right, ah can spin a better one then 'im! Especially thisn' because, I was there.”
Tam's daughter Melanda the recorder of Redwall took out quill and parcment and began writing down all that her Uncle Doogy told.