"Worry not." Ellis began to Bancroft. "Honesty and goodness tends to come out in folk, don't hold it against somebeast to be afraid." His words were soothing and quiet, and he spared a moment to look over Rigby's nicked ear. He clicked his tongue once, before letting out a low chortling laugh from deep within his chest.

"Aye, that little scratch'll do you good I be 'spectin'. Every lad gets scratched and bruised; few get to claim a genuine battle scar, eh Bancroft?" He was jovial as ever, even as his spines finally fell flat from the initial surprise. Swiftly enough, Marigold's deft leaps and graceful descent from the treetops warranted his attention- though only half of it. The other half was lost to the depths of memory.

"Iffen Tybalt were here, and could see mind you, he'd swear the ghost of Juniper just shot at us." He whispered, softly- so softly, it was clearly meant for himself.

But then Marigold is at their side, and Ellis swivels his head upwards and his gaze once again into the now.

"Jethro has good sense, he'll keep things as safe as can be. Rigby's a good lad, and Zaris is a little too keen on seeing danger in the shadows- the Abbey is in good hands, but we do be on the wrong side of 'er walls. We should be able to make the Gatehouse if we keep to the walls; such a creature as that shan't be risking limb to attack against their sides, methinks. Especially not if we have a sharp-eyed archer and a fierce mouse warrior amongst us!" He nods to Marigold, then to Bancroft, as if addressing equals.

"Keep that staff on hand, but do not be tense- keep your wits about you. A warrior with staff but no mind is a warrior disarmed. That goes for you as well, friend; skill with the bow but no sense of the self just leads to bleeding ears! I am Ellis of the Tap, Cellarhog of Redwall Abbey, to get introductions out of the way. Let us make haste, 'fore we're stuck hiding in the shrubbery! Tis Nameday, not a day for sniffing in the dirt!"

And just as quickly as Marigold appeared, Ellis was trundling off alongside the cover of the trees, moving in a lumbering but quiet gait.