Narrator: [...]
Luther approaches the officer's mess tent, even pauses a moment to allow someone else to go first. The look on their face can only be translated as "Quick! Check his pulse! That's not Luther! It's an alien pod!"
Luther: [smiling pleasantly]
Heh. This is kind of fun.
Narrator:
In the meantime, however, Beauty has noticed the movements of something much smaller than she. Something moving horizontally, and hesitantly, something about the right size to be God's Own Cat Toy.
Luther pauses just short of the tent. (Again the toy stops.) Luther moves a bit further. (again the toy moves) Luther pauses to let another officer enter first. (again the toy stops)
Brennan half expected this, so he starts towards Beauty - gently, of course - but she's instantly out of range with a explosive leap.
If Maia is surprised by the sudden, rapid motions of her newfound pet, the aforementioned retainers are terrified. Luther, on the other hand, is caught entirely by surprise. Lunging for him is a kitten. A kitten nearly twice his height. Luther's eyes go wide and white in amazement. He reaches for his belt, but just as he remembers that Knightly Knights don't wear metal to breakfast, he is swatted across the camp by an overlarge kitten paw.
Luther:
Aaaaaawwwwwwwwwwww...OOOOOMMMMPPHHH!
Brennan: [breaks into a trot shouting to Luther]
Lie still Luther! Play dead!!
Narrator:
Luther bounces off the side of a tent and has about 2 seconds respite.
Luther: [muttered]
Lie still -- sure! WHOOOOF!!!
Narrator:
...and he's off again! Blackbird, having breakfast herself, hears Luther's scream and rushes out.
Blackbird: [seeing Luther being swatted around by the cat]
This is a test, isn't it? There's a pattern waiting to be formed.. Luther gets abused. I step in to help. Get clobbered.....
Narrator:
Luther tumbles like a ball of twine past three tents and twice that many retainers. Hardly before he comes to rest, the kitten slaps again, introducing a wilder vector into the equation. And again, and again. Finally, after a good dozen such swats, the cat stops with her new toy, holds it down with her paws and begins to lick it.
[Ed: Yeah, I know, a real kitten would prefer to CHEW, but I've gotta give the little guy a break sometime!]
Dizzy from the ride, now buffeted by the grade 5 sandpaper we call a "big cat's tongue" Luther manages only a few moments before passing out entirely.
Luther:
Why? Why do the gods hate me so? What'd I ever do to them?
[his head wobbles]
I think I can do the 'play dead' part without any trouble now...
Huhn.....
[slump]
Narrator:
While Luther is getting tumbled around the camp, Blackbird is grabbing a large tray of sliced ham from the breakfast table.
Blackbird: [stepping forward]
[unspoken]
It's not a lion ... it's a *huge* kitten.
[aloud. holding the tray out to the side.]
Come on. Nice Kitty. Give me the chew toy. Got a snack for you. Tastes better than chewy old Luther.
[unspoken]
Sure. It probably thinks *I'm* a chew toy. I wish I had a big ball of yarn.
Narrator:
While Beauty is playing, Maia seems to be having a fit. Actually it doesn't make a lot of sense. She looks perfectly calm, she's not flailing around, she's not falling to the ground... But the sounds that come out of her mouth!
Maia: [in Cat. Mother Cat, to be precise]
Beauty! Stop that! He isn't breakfast and he's not a toy. Put him down! SCAMPER!
Heather:
Goodness. Echoes of Granny B and He-Who, wouldn't you say? "NOT-FOOD. NOT-TOY". Maybe we'll start a schism in the Bunny-Bashers called Shrimp-Bashers... It may be harder to train this large housecat than it was to teach a Kzin.
Narrator:
The kitten's nose begins to twitch at the smell of the meat. She looks up from her toy. Cautiously, she half rises and takes a curious step toward the meat. At the sound of Maia's voice, though, her ears go back and she turns reluctantly to look at Maia.
Her fun has been interrupted and she isn't too happy about it.
Blackbird sets the tray down, cocking her head at the odd sounds Maia is making.
Just then Brennan arrives and stops. He's not going to try to take Luther away from Beauty.
Beauty: [for those who understand Cat]
I'm NOT Scamper. I told you. That's a baby name.
Narrator:
Those who don't follow the conversation just hear an annoyed sound almost like "eep". Then Beauty shakes her head, sits up on her haunches and begins to groom herself. Luther is still pinned under one large paw, but she doesn't pay any attention to him.
Maia: [sternly, still in Cat]
And you're acting like a baby. When you behave yourself, I'll call you Beauty again.
[then sweetly - to those who don't speak Cat, she's uh, purring...]
There. You are a clever dear, aren't you? And you are lovely too. Come back over to me and then you can eat.
Beauty: [her ego appropriately stroked]
I see something good to eat.
Narrator:
Her mood changing abruptly, Beauty gets to her feet and ambles to the tray of ham, forgetting all about Luther. Maia comes over and scratches her behind the ears, and Beauty butts her, almost knocking her over with affection. The two of them are both purring. Beauty begins gulping down whole slices at a time.
Maia, naturally assumes that Luther is not damaged (after all, the kitten doesn't USUALLY hurt her toys). Beauty, of course, is distracted and just doesn't care anymore. So, our miserable, mangled midget is left lying limp and wondering if the ferocious feline was but a frightening, Freudian phantasm, but only for a moment, as Brennan gently rolls him over and starts to check him out.
Brennan: [can't suppress a grin]
Looks like he'll live, but that must have been quite an experience.
Blackbird: [moving cautiously over to Luther. Calm tone of voice.]
Somebody better get some more meat. And get a net over that thing.
[kneeling down beside Luther. keeping an eye on the cat.]
Luther? Luther, are you OK? Speak to me. I've gotta know: do things like this happen to you all the time, or only when I'm around?
Brennan: [glances up at the 'net' reference]
Luther looks to be fine. I'll take care of the kitten. A net would be a big mistake.
Narrator:
He's too late. At the word "net", Maia looks up, points her finger and ZOT - there is a large scorched area beside Blackbird (on the side away from Luther.)
Actually, Luther looks very little like "fine". He's battered, bruised, and there's a reason why the above text said "limp". He's unconscious. Blackbird, about to try to wake him up, is interrupted by the scorched earth near her.
Maia: [in Common]
No, I don't think we'll be needing any nets, unless it's to keep PEOPLE away from Beauty! And she is not a THING!
[specifically to Blackbird]
You hit a horse, now you're picking on a kitten - what kind of woman are you???
Narrator:
Blackbird is kneeling when the fireball hits. Without even thinking, she rolls sideways in a surprisingly fluid motion and comes to her feet facing Maia. Her hands move reflexively toward the two long tined weapons -- Maia might recognize them as Drow sais -- tucked in her belt. Then they move away again.
Blackbird:
[looks down at the scorched earth, then over at Maia. She moves much like Beauty in an odd, formalized way. Begins moving forward as he speaks.]
[unspoken]
Picking on ...? It's the size of a tiger! It just batted a knight around ... well, OK a very tiny knight -- like a ball of string, and *I'm* picking on it because I want it restrained?
[aloud]
I am the kind of woman who does not like to be threatened. There are less than ten feet between us
[and getting less].
Do you insist on becoming violent?
Heather:
My goodness, is Blackbird unfazable like Alex? Most people would at least startle when the ground around them is scorched, not "stand fluidly"! Was she expecting this?
[stops in front of Maia]
I like cats; I don't want to see her hurt. The next person she mistakes for a toy might not be as lucky as Luther was. They will kill her if that happens. 'Net' was a figure of speech. I do not care what you do as long as you can control her better than you have been doing so far.
Brennan: [quietly to Maia]
This isn't going to work out well. Beauty's going to get hurt unless we do something quickly.
Narrator:
Maia is not mollified, but she allows Brennan to take over shoveling the ham, which has almost disappeared without putting much of a dent in Beauty's appetite.
Maia: [to Blackbird, in an angry but sincere tone of voice]
I wasn't threatening you. But it sure sounded as if you were threatening Beauty. When someone I care about is threatened, I have a rather short temper.
Narrator:
Brennan is amazed. He's never seen Maia come that close to an apology - and he *has* been almost scorched once or twice himself. In fact she hadn't been quite as careful about her aim, either... it was just his dexterity that saved him from getting toasted. He shakes his head to clear his ears.
Maia:
She's just a baby, and she's never been around people before. She didn't jump on us when she met us - I didn't expect there'd be someone around that looked like a toy to her. You saw her stop when I told her to, didn't you?
Blackbird: [nods]
Just be careful. Kittens have such short attention spans.
[looks down at the scorched spot on the ground again. Actually laughs good-naturedly.]
Somebody is bound to misunderstand you someday and mistake your warm and friendly little fireball for a threat.
Maia: [grumpy]
It wasn't intended to be warm and friendly. Neither was it a threat. It just WAS.
Blackbird: [amazed. this attitude just doesn't have a place in her world view. At least, not the sane part.]
[unspoken]
And when your guts are strewn all over western McMannon, it won't be a slaughter, they just WILL BE.
[aloud, still no hostility in her voice.]
Whatever. Next time your finger gets itchy like that, just toss a net at me instead, or go a couple falls with me hand-to-hand. I can teach you. Nothing like slamming somebody to the ground -- or getting slammed -- to let off steam, and it is less likely to turn fatal. I speak from experience.
[grins at Brennan, who was looking awfully protective a minute ago]
Brennan here probably wouldn't mind obliging you for the occasional wrestling match, would you Brennan?
Maia: [still crabby and doesn't see the joke anyway]
And what does any of this have to do with my finger being itchy? It *isn't* itchy!
Blackbird: [unspoken]
What a surpassingly odd woman. We are having a complete failure to communicate, I think.
Maia: [seriously]
I don't usually like wrestling. And I don't want to learn hand-to-hand combat, thank you. You talk about fatal - staying around when someone wants to fight seems more likely to turn fatal to me.
Blackbird:
Wrestling doesn't always have to be combat. Some regard it as sport. It's a way of setting rules to violence, creating a way to combat someone without really causing anyone injury.
And with members of the opposite sex it can be a particularly diverting sport. Good for the blood circulation. Good for releasing the tension.
[unspoken]
You seem like you could use an outlet besides turning the object of your displeasure into a smoking ruin.
(Takes one to know one. Do you ever follow your own advice?)
No argument. No, I don't advise myself, I wait for you to do it. Hey, I did OK this time, didn't I?
(One for you. Five thousand four hundred thirty three for your temper.)
I didn't know you have been keeping count.
(I have not. I just made it up. I consider it an educated guess.)
Hmph.
Narrator:
As the last of the ham disappears, Beauty sits back and cleans herself for a few moments without responding, and then gets up and does a rubbing walk past Maia (almost knocking her down) before butting Brennan with her head.
Blackbird: [to Maia, gesturing toward Beauty]
May I?
Maia: [shrugs]
It's up to her, not me.
Narrator:
Blackbird goes up to Beauty and scratches her just below and behind the ear. Beauty happily arches her neck towards Blackbird's hand, forcing Blackbird back a step. There's a childlike smile on Blackbird's face. Beauty turns in a circle rubbing against her as she did Maia. Blackbird kneels as Beauty finishes the circle and they come nose to nose. They sniff a minute, then Blackbird puts her head down and rubs her cheek against Beauty's. Beauty responds, rubbing her cheek along Blackbird's. Blackbird giggles.
Blackbird: [to Maia, happy, scratching behind Beauty's ear again]
Cats smell *so* good, don't you think!
Beauty: [looking pointedly at the table]
I'm thirsty!
Brennan: [still in Cat]
Ok, come on!
Brennan:
I want to take her out for some fresh meat and a little training on how to stay out of trouble with people while you explain to everyone what we discovered.
Brennan: [in Cat]
Beauty, how would you like to go with me and hunt some fresh meat? This stuff hasn't moved in days!
[to Maia in Common]
Watch the dogs for me?
Blackbird:
Bye, kitten.
Narrator:
Brennan spies a jug of milk on the table, which he picks up along with a bowl and starts off out of the encampment with Beauty following.
Maia watches open-mouthed and wide-eyed. As Brennan reaches the edge of the woods she finds her voice.
Maia:
Hey! Don't leave me here with these people! Why don't YOU stay and tell them what's going on? That's my cat you're taking away!
Narrator:
She looks dolefully after Brennan and Beauty, then shrugs her shoulders, and sinks to the ground, where she sits cross-legged without speaking.