Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Day Sixty-Three: Feline complications

The reason for the absence of my kind in this town was made abundantly clear last evening, diary, while I slept in that stable. Goblins are overly fond of cats.

As I slumbered I felt a twinge of murderous intent. I immediately awoke and found the slitted eyes of a feline staring down at me, connected to a coiled body that was ready to spring and rip me apart. If I'd stayed asleep for a few more seconds it surely would have.

I burrowed deeper into the hay and under you, diary, before the cat's claws could claim me. From there I addressed my foe:

"Greetings, cat! What business do you have with me?"

"Singular?" the cat meowed, its voice playful and dangerous. "I guess you would be the only rodent in Goblinoster. Still, you don't hear your kind refer to themselves as a single entity too often. A shame, I would like a more robust meal."

"No doubt!" I cried. "You're a skinny, wasted fiend. You could probably stand to eat a whole barrel of my ilk. Though I'd hope that you would choke on our fur as you did."

"Pfft. You're helpless without your kin, vermin. Prepare to meet my stomach." And with that the cat began to claw its way into the straw, searching for me.

Normally the fiend would have been correct. I am, for the most part, rather helpless without other rats to help. The power the colony invested in me to call upon more of us in an emergency was already spent. But I had you, diary, and I commanded you to open as the cat made its way into the hay, searching…

… and when it got close enough, discovering you, I ordered you to close upon its head.

You aren't a strong creation, diary, and your skin doesn't have muscles for crushing bone. That move was more than enough to scare the cat, however, and it leaped out of the hay and bolted from the stable.

"You'd better leave." This from a pony, watching from a nearby stall. "She'll be back. She's a cruel bitch."

"Dogs are bitches."

"Vixen, then."

"That's foxes."


My ear twitched. "That's… you?"

"Just go already."

I did, after filching a bit of food. Horse chow is not palatable to a rodent, I'm afraid.

We're almost on the outskirts of town. I can smell the swamp.


The Rat

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