The Chiefest Cat in the World

       All night after the new year attack, Kitty was thinking. No one but her and her tail seemed to notice Kitty’s tiny slip of attention before the whole ruckus. It was good to keep the trust of her humans, but she promised herself to try harder to keep them safe and happy. That Yule cat, for example. Long-Braidy had said it didn’t exist, but he hadn’t seemed very sure about it. And he wasn’t very bright; Half-Cat called him stupid all the time. So, what if that critter did exist and could still steal Kitty’s human? She would fight it, no doubt, but Long-Braidy had said he’d been chased because he hadn’t got a woollen present for Yule… Kitty consulted her tail. He protested. He tried very hard to escape, but she caught him and tore a tuft of fur out of it. He hurt in revenge. Proud of herself, Kitty walked all over sleeping Long-Braidy to and fro to find the best place for her gift. At first, she wanted to drag a sock off him and stuff her precious wool inside for the extra warmth of a bare-skinned human, but he felt her manipulations and kicked her in the nose without waking up. Quite weakly, but still... That’s for trying to save him! Alright, wool to wool, tail to tail. She tucked her tail’s wool into Long-Braidy’s anti-tail, where it was the thickest, closer to the nape. Long-Braidy didn’t wake up to say thanks, just mumbled in his sleep something like, “Onni, you may go further, don’t stop”. Alas, he didn’t get into any detail, and Kitty was left to wonder what he needed from Grumpy-Glum to be happy. All those mental and physical activities left her drowsy all next day long. She had only left the power to hang limp on Long-Braidy’s shoulder and scan the landscape; her duties wouldn’t wait for her to recover, right? And Half-Cat had the temerity to call her lazy as he zipped by on skis. Her, the busiest cat in the world! She watched out for danger and would tear any Monster into pieces! There were just no other Monsters around to prove her valour. Winter, duh. They were the lazy ones, sleeping somewhere far and deep or stuck in the ruins of towns the travellers veered around, and just wouldn’t help Kitty prove herself. And the team was not always spending nights in the wild in their tent; sometimes they were coming across small but cosy and fenced huts with firewood and some food. Grumpy-Glum explained those were waypoints for human officers travelling between Saimaa and Keuruu in winter. Still Kitty was on the lookout, and once, during camp setting, she listened really hard and at last sensed a Monster! And not very far. She reported it to Loud-Woman, but Half-Cat saw her reporting and said no, no danger at all. But the Monster! So, right after the humans went to sleep (and to stand guard one by one), Kitty, bursting with indignation, trudged through the snow to the Monster. It appeared a bit farther than she thought, the camp was out of sight already. The Monster hid deep in the thick bush, under three Kitty’s heights of snow and one more height of turf and soil, but she dug it out nevertheless. It was the size of her head, several tiny bodies like baby mice merged together. Kitty crushed all their tiny heads and carried the proof of her skill and utility to the camp to show it to the chief officer, that is, to Loud-Woman. Loud-Woman was already off guard and sleeping in the tent, but before Kitty could sneak in and give her the trophy, Biggest-One caught Kitty by the scruff of her neck, brought her away from the tent, and told her to dig that vermin in, deep and fast. What, after all the pains it took her to dig it out?! Right, instructors in the cat school did mention correct disposal of vermin, and after reporting, Kitty would do it by herself, and stupid Biggest-One wasn’t the chief officer, he could not give orders! She’d veer around him easily, if not for the trophy in her teeth, she was not agile enough to escape him. So instead, she told him with her ears everything she was thinking about his mutiny and went to bury the trash properly. That is, into the soil under all that snow again. Alright, in the morning, she’d dig that blasted Monster mouse back out and present it to Loud-Woman. But after all that digging, she woke up packed on the sledge, far from the camp site. And Half-Cat called her lazy again! While she was so busy with both their safety and team morale! Yes, she didn’t forget about that, too. Sure, they had their instincts for following their master cat, but it never hurt to reinforce the message, to make them stick together. That way, it would be easier for her to herd them. But teambuilding was as hard as Monster-hunting in winter. The usual couples kept as close as before, and even Grumpy-Glum seemed to start to notice Long-Braidy more often, but mainly to remind the scatter-braid about precautions, and he wasn’t exactly running after Long-Braidy. Kitty remembered her own theory that Long-Braidy’s tail (alright, anti-tail) didn’t leave room for any other tails, including humans. Kitty considered severing that braid so that Grumpy-Glum could stick to Long-Braidy better, but first, she had no idea how to do that. She had tried to chow that braid off once, but it was too strong and loose for her teeth. And second, she remembered how painful it was to pluck one small tuft out of her own tail. Sure, Long-Braidy’s braid was an anti-tail, but it still might hurt awfully to take it away. Why else would he notice all her attempts to play with his tail then? Being pulled by the tail was not nice, Kitty knew it from her encounters with human kittens in the village here and at Long-Braidy’s home. Still, she did use his tail braid for good purposes. In the tent, everyone was sleeping in pairs for the sake of warmth, even if they didn’t do the not-sleeping fuss humans do for fun and human-kitten-making. And thus Long-Braidy and Grumpy-Glum were left in a common corner by default, but Grumpy was always trying to move away from the other. So, every night, Kitty would drag Long-Braidy’s tail end onto Grumpy-Glum and tuck it somehow, so those two had to keep close and interact in the morning. Another of her schemes was to climb Grumpy-Glum’s lap whenever he was resting by the fire or in the tent, and demand scritches. And when Long-Braidy came by (he was always showing up in a matter of minutes), Kitty was turning her tummy up and striking some cute pose so that he had no choice but to lean in and give her a tummy scratch. Then his braid would slide down, and Kitty would grab it with all her claws and teeth so that Grumpy-Glum and Long-Braidy would have to untangle her and thus sit really close and coordinate their actions. She was very proud of that trick. After several attempts, Grumpy-Glum seemed less inclined to shift away from Long-Braidy and even asked him once or twice if he’d better cut the braid. A good sign! It must mean Grumpy-Glum wanted to take the place of Long-Braidy’s tail! Still, he was rather distant with the other humans (save for Half-Cat; they related somehow, but definitely not the way Half-Cat related to Soap-Smelling. It consisted of constant glaring contests and readiness to come to rescue; others called that relationship “cousins”). So, Kitty tried to connect him to others as well, she had a lot of ideas. Like, to steal Grumpy-Glum’s mitten at night and hide it into Loud-Woman’s sleeping bag, or to hide Soap-Smelling’s comb under Grumpy-Glum’s pillow pile and let them look for the missing items, ask others, ask yet others to help translate... That didn’t go too well, both sides were left suspecting each other and mumbling something about “crazy Finn”, or “crazy Swede”, or “crazy Norwegian woman”. But Kitty didn’t give up on her plans to make Grumpy-Glum everyone’s friend. Another worry about teambuilding was the ever-growing closeness of the two established couples. What if they valued each other higher than her? And there was another concern: kittens. Kitty was old enough to know where kittens came from. And she believed the same was right for humans. Of course, there might be human-specific quirks, like, sure, Half-Cat and Soap-Smelling were both males, but they did it nevertheless, so what if one of them could have kittens? Half-Cat was weird enough. And Loud-Woman was telling Soap-Smelling sometimes that he ran or fought like a girl. What did she mean? And Loud-Woman was definitely female. And having kittens would be... not good. Inconvenient, first. The pregnant cats Kitty had met were rather uncouth, and it was unacceptable for her combat humans, who, even at their best, were not as agile as cats. Then, new kitten humans would belong to Kitty, right? And she had her paws full even with six humans, she didn’t feel ready to adopt more of them. And finally, what if they care for their kittens more than for her? Kitty saw humans pretty protective of their little ones. It meant Kitty had to take measures. Back in the village, she had taken a habit of checking on the couples at night and, if they were not sleeping, to shout at them that didn’t they dare to bring her human kittens! They had ignored her or told her to shut up, but obeyed. There had been just six of them setting out to follow her on the journey, and she was taking care that there were six of them arriving at... at whatever. Keuruu, they said. Let it be Keuruu. Fortunately, her humans didn’t dare to make out in one tent with her, but still, she was waking up every now and then to wedge between Loud-Woman and Biggest-One and then between Half-Cat and Soap-Smelling, whoever was not standing guard at the moment, be shoved out, wait till they fall asleep, crawl in between again, repeat as needed. No wonder she felt exhausted by the time to wake up and go. Lazy, duh! She was still scanning the surroundings, by the way! At least now they walked far enough that grouse sentinels stopped bothering her. But her joy in getting rid of them was short. Once, Biggest-One asked Grumpy-Glum if there were sentinels near Keuruu, and Grumpy-Glum said yes and smirked. Kitty cringed. She’d prefer a Monster, for many reasons. She needed a Monster to boost her self-esteem, but there were none in their way, and the ones off-course were too far to make a side trip during the night or lunch stop. That is, Loud-Woman was trying to raise a raid, but everyone else protested and ruled her (and Kitty!) out. Loud-Woman pouted, and Kitty pouted too. Once Kitty tried to charge sideways and make her humans follow her as usual, but she sank in another snowdrift, and Biggest-One pulled her out and stored her in his bosom despite her quiet (for safety reasons) protests. But over many days of this boring and tiresome road, Kitty and Loud-Woman had their strike of luck. First, Kitty sensed a Monster ahead, five seconds faster than Half-Cat and Grumpy-Glum did (and one second later than her own tail). And this time they agreed with her that it was a big matter, a giant maybe, or a large beast. Loud-Woman perked up, told that she cancelled democracy (what it was, Kitty wondered—rude insubordination and ignoring her orders?) and that she and Biggest-One would go ahead and take the critter down while Half-Cat and Soap-Smelling should stay and guard the non-immunes. Now Kitty was alarmed. Back in the village, Kitty had heard once or twice Loud-Woman telling that in her home land, going by two to kill a giant was called “betrothal”, and was held before the “wedding” thing, and human kittens usually appeared after the “wedding”. And during summer travel through the murder forest, Loud-Woman had usually taken Half-Cat and Soap-Smelling with her to dispose of Monsters, not Biggest-One alone. What if now she intended to perform that “betrothal” thing and have kittens at last? Kitty could not allow that! With a desperate meow, she leapt at Biggest-One, climbed him, and gripped his coat with all her might. At first, she tried to bite Biggest-One and thus make him stay back, but his coat was too thick and cat-proof, he didn’t even understand that he was bitten, and offered to take Kitty with them. Loud-Woman agreed, and Kitty changed her plans. She would kill the Monster by herself so that the “betrothal” didn’t count. There they went. Kitty was showing the way, humans were carrying her and following her guidance, just as it should be. Kitty and Loud-Woman vibrated in excitement in sync, and once again, Kitty made sure she had chosen the right human to be the senior officer. And they walked, and crouched, and lurked, and at last Kitty could smell the Monster. Yikes. Time to get ahead. Hooray, there were many felled tree trunks around, she didn’t have to sink ungracefully in the snow. She catapulted from Biggest-One’s head and ran over those trunks towards the smell while her humans tarried behind. Don’t shoot, she was pleading with her luck; please don’t shoot, she needed to deal away with the Monster by herself. With those thoughts, she dashed through fir branches, puffed twice her size, with her tail in combat mode, and froze. The Monster was big. And thick. Thick like three tree trunks bound together, and smooth like the same trunk. No, it was covered with dirty long fur but didn’t have any legs, tails, or bumps, just a long body arching over windfall and swaying slightly. Head and tail were lost somewhere in the snow-covered thicket. Kitty didn’t have time to guess where the head was, her humans could catch up with her at any moment, and she dashed at the Monster and bit it. Tried to. The monstrous side was too wide and smooth to fit into her mouth. All she managed was to stuff her teeth full of foul fur. She jerked back and aside, but no, she got stuck. Her tail stayed free and was trying hard to pull her out but didn’t succeed. She tried to spit the offending fur out to yell at her humans that they should hide and call for reinforcement while she was keeping the Monster back. And then she was held by the scruff of her neck (by Biggest-One, she knew his grip already). “Stop, Missekat,” he said, “it’s dead already." What? Freed out of the monstrous trap, Kitty looked around without haste and realised that all the tree trunks were not just windfall but rather a human trap; the branches were hewn off, the trunks were arranged in an unnatural way, and when Biggest-One carried her a bit further by a well-trodden path, Kitty saw that the Monster’s snakey body was clammed between some trunks, and most importantly, some sharpened stakes ran right through the monstrous head. It was indeed dead, but not only a little while ago, its fluids still seeping. Some other hunters got here before them. Loud-Woman was spitting “Odin’s creepy socks” and other words of her disappointment. She complained that her romantic hunt for Valentine’s day went to fenrirs, and Biggest-One said that it was too early to be upset as the Valentine’s day would be in a month. Loud-Woman said oops and cheered up a bit. Kitty was glad but could not depuff, the combat spirit was still too high. Then the other cat appeared. A large, broad-pawed yellow tomcat in a closed collar of grade A. He glanced languidly over Kitty and her humans, smirked at her pointless combat stance (his own long fur was smooth and shiny), and meowed to his back that everything was clear. After that, other humans stepped into the clearing. As humans would, they started talking, but again, the strange human effect kicked in. The strangers and Kitty’s humans didn’t understand each other, and their cat condescended to talk to Kitty. She calmed down a bit by that time and explained that she had more humans behind her. She felt a bit awkward with her grade B collar and bristling tail, but the stranger cat had no right to look so patronising! With the help of cats and gestures, Kitty’s humans agreed to return with the rest of the team, and the strangers agreed to wait for them and to guide them to a safe place. Kitty would prefer never to meet the A-grade tomcat again, but she should bring her humans to safety, so she prepared to suffer his insufferable attitude.