"We totally are late! They probably started without us already!" Minnow replied hotly.
"Whatever. If you had, I dunno, hurried up for once, we'd already have won. But you had to mess up our home searching for Mother's old collar." Clover rolled her eyes, continuing to walk away from their home, a large cave, and her brother.
"Hey!" Minnow, the older brother, spat back. "That would have looked awesome around Ginger, the loser's neck!"
"Whatever," Clover muttered--still trailing away--continuing to roll her deep green eyes. Secretly, she liked Ginger and admired her. She knew that Ginger was way to mature for this contest.
"I'll get her to do it, you know," her brother claimed, picking up his pace in attempt to catch up to his sister.
Clover whipped around. "Yeah, right! You couldn't get a mouse to enter this contest! I still think that you should stay home. I don't know how you convinced me to come with you," Clover retorted in Ginger's defense.
Minnow took a few steps back, a little intimidated by his little sister. "Okay, okay. I still say that you like her."
"Do not!" Clover turned so that her brother couldn't see the embarrassment written all over her frosty gray face.
"Ha! You totally do!" Minnow insisted.
"Do not!"
"Do to! Do to!" Minnow taunted.
Clover spun around, baring her teeth. She didn't like how determined her brother was to win in these 'do to' and 'do not' contests. He'd gloat for weeks. She'd never hear the end of it. So, instead of playing his game, Clover ran into the trees in the direction of the road, not looking back at her brother.
Minnow huffed temperamentally. "Girls," he sighed.
*****
"Boys," Clover muttered through gritted teeth as she came to the road. A cluster--no a knot--of cats was gathered by the foul-smelling tarmac pathway, most of them were muttering their anticipation of Clover and Minnow's arrival.
Clover sighed. What had Minnow gotten himself into? Why was he so reckless? Why?
The moment Cover sat down, it seemed, the other cats began to notice her. She felt over thirty pairs of impatient eyes on her, all waiting and staring. It felt like each eye was burning a fiery hole into her fur, their gazes merciless and hard. She didn't like to be stared at.
Clover turned, anger brewing up inside of her. First breakfast, then her brother, then her brother, then this. Could this day get any worse?
He brother lept from the bushes. He looked ridicules. Leaves and twigs stuck out from his fur, much like pins from a pincushion. One of his paws was slightly bleeding from his careless trek through the trees. Yes, Clover's day could, in fact, get worse. Much worse.
"I am ready to start," Minnow announced, strutting towards Ginger, who stood about two yards away from the sticky black tarmac.
"I'm not," Ginger said, as expected by the twins, Clover and Minnow. "I'm not so immature as you might think, Minnow." Ginger glared at the young cat with her melted-chocolate-brown eyes. Her eyelids were slightly angled down, so that only half of her remarkable eyes were visible.
Minnow huffed moodily. "You came, so why don't you join the game? Why did you come, anyway? I'd think that if you're so mature, you would stay away from such immature games."
"I came because you made me," came the reply.
"Yep!" Minnow cried proudly. "And I'll make you join the contest in just the same way. Using my greatest talent!"
"And what might that be? Being annoying?" Ginger replied, rolling her eyes.
"No," Minnow growled through gritted teeth. Then he brightened. "Persistence!"
"You got that right," Clover muttered to herself.
"Anyway, you aren't going to be able to get me on that thing," Ginger growled, jerking her tail disdainfully towards the stinking road.
"Yeah? Well--" Minnow started persistently.
"Minnow!" Clover cried, depressed. "Don't do it! It's dangerous! There are so many thunderweels! Don't do it, please!"
As if on cue, a large car thundered past, spattering foul truck oil onto the cats nearby.
"I won't get hurt! Ginger'll lose before she even steps onto the darkpath!" Minnow insisted. "And I will get her on there, you know."
"I don't think that you will," Clover warned with a sideways glance at the marvelous tan a beautiful brown she-cat.
"No, you won't," Ginger confirmed.
"Knew it," Clover said.
"Yeah, you will," Minnow meowed.
"No, I won't," Ginger insisted, still looking bored.
"Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will!" Minnow insisted profusely, crying as loudly and annoyingly as he could.
Ginger merely ignored Minnow.
"I'm not," Ginger said, as expected by the twins, Clover and Minnow. "I'm not so immature as you might think, Minnow." Ginger glared at the young cat with her melted-chocolate-brown eyes. Her eyelids were slightly angled down, so that only half of her remarkable eyes were visible.
Minnow huffed moodily. "You came, so why don't you join the game? Why did you come, anyway? I'd think that if you're so mature, you would stay away from such immature games."
"I came because you made me," came the reply.
"Yep!" Minnow cried proudly. "And I'll make you join the contest in just the same way. Using my greatest talent!"
"And what might that be? Being annoying?" Ginger replied, rolling her eyes.
"No," Minnow growled through gritted teeth. Then he brightened. "Persistence!"
"You got that right," Clover muttered to herself.
"Anyway, you aren't going to be able to get me on that thing," Ginger growled, jerking her tail disdainfully towards the stinking road.
"Yeah? Well--" Minnow started persistently.
"Minnow!" Clover cried, depressed. "Don't do it! It's dangerous! There are so many thunderweels! Don't do it, please!"
As if on cue, a large car thundered past, spattering foul truck oil onto the cats nearby.
"I won't get hurt! Ginger'll lose before she even steps onto the darkpath!" Minnow insisted. "And I will get her on there, you know."
"I don't think that you will," Clover warned with a sideways glance at the marvelous tan a beautiful brown she-cat.
"No, you won't," Ginger confirmed.
"Knew it," Clover said.
"Yeah, you will," Minnow meowed.
"No, I won't," Ginger insisted, still looking bored.
"Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will!" Minnow insisted profusely, crying as loudly and annoyingly as he could.
Ginger merely ignored Minnow.
"Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will!" Minnow was doing his best to be annoying. Now, he was red in the face and out of breath.
Ginger didn't make a move or reply.
This annoyed Minnow greatly.
"Yes, you will!" he said for the last time.
Ginger sighed, and then began to stalk away.
"Stop!" Minnow cried, racing after her to catch up. Though Ginger was only a week older then Minnow, she had a much more wide stride.
"Why? Your wonderful persistence powers didn't end up paying off this time, Minnow." Ginger rolled her eyes.
"No! No, wait! I can get you to enter the contest!" Minnow insisted.
Ginger rolled her eyes again.
"I can! Because.... Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will! Yes, you will!" Minnow cried until he had to stop for a gulp of air.
"Nope, no working," Ginger meowed, unfazed. Then she stalked away, into the bushes, leaving Minnow pouting behind her.
"Well that stinks." Minnow sighed.
"Okay," Clover said quickly, waving away the matter. "Can we go home, now?"
"No," Minnow muttered. "Anyone else want to enter the contest with me?"
"Sure!" Chip cried from the crowd.
"See, other cats are smart, too, sis," Minnow muttered to his sister.
"Chip doesn't know what he's talking about!" Clover hissed back. Then she called louder, "Don't do it, Chip!"
"Why?" Chip wondered innocently.
"Because you could get killed along with my brother!" Clover cried, upset. She wished that her brother, and quite frankly no one, was entering the odd and pointless contest that Minnow had dreamed of winning.
"I could?" Chip blinked in realization.
"Yes, yes you could!" Clover insisted, hoping that Chip would not enter.
"Oh. Is that bad?" Chip wondered.
"Yes, it is bad. Very bad. You don't want to d--" Clover began.
"You could wi-in!" Minnow interrupted.
"Oo! Is that good?" Chip asked.
"Yes. Very very good."
"Okay! I'll join! But what happens when you get killed, Clover? What happens?" Chip wanted to know.
"Well, you...um....you....you die. You can't see your friend and family anymore. You can't hunt prey and drink water. You're gone forever. And you don't have any second chances," Clover explained a bit uncertainly.
"Oh. That is bad, isn't it?" Chip meowed, sounding quite depressed.
"Yeah, dying is bad," Minnow admitted. "But winning is so much better, that it doesn't even matter if you have a super slim chance of dying."
"So I should enter?" Chip's voice was uncertain.
"Yes!" Minnow said.
At the same time, Clover cried, "No!"
"What?" Chip was so confused, that he had to sit down and try and figure out who he should listen to. Should he not enter and live? Or should he or should he accept the generous invitation and win a contest?
Minnow crept over and whispered something into Chip's mud-brown ear. Clover rushed over as fast as she could, but by the time she was close enough to hear what they were saying, sly Minnow had finished his whispering and foolish Chip was nodding his head.
"Okay," Chip announced merrily. "I'll enter the contest!"
"No!" Clover cried, desperate to stop Chip. Deep down, she knew that she had already lost. Her brother had said something to Chip that had convinced him to enter. Clover was helpless to change his mind.
"But, Minnow said that it doesn't matter if I die because I'll be a winner and that's just as great as living!" Chip meowed.
Clover sighed. She had lost that battle just as she had lost the one with her brother. Now, two of her friends had a sickeningly high chance of dying.
Clover and Minnow tried to get cats to decline and to accept. In the end, Clover had only managed to stop three cats. Minnow had gotten twelve cats to accept his contest invitation including Chip. The remaining twenty cats sat on the grass as the thirteen others stepped onto the road, much to Clover's disapproval.
The goal of the contest was to be the last one standing on the road. Depending on how long the contest lasted, there would be contests and other things to eliminate competitors. Clover just hoped that everyone got through the contest safely and unharmed.
"Good-bye, Minnow, Chip, Peanut, and all ten of you others. Good luck, everyone. I'm going back home," Clover called over her shoulder. Clover took care to look at every single one of the thirteen cats' faces. To remember them. Just in case one of them didn't return.
And, with a last look at the thirteenth cat, FluffFurFlurFluff, she darted away, into the bushes. Would this be the last time she saw one of them?
Clover didn't even want to know the answer.
"Oh. That is bad, isn't it?" Chip meowed, sounding quite depressed.
"Yeah, dying is bad," Minnow admitted. "But winning is so much better, that it doesn't even matter if you have a super slim chance of dying."
"So I should enter?" Chip's voice was uncertain.
"Yes!" Minnow said.
At the same time, Clover cried, "No!"
"What?" Chip was so confused, that he had to sit down and try and figure out who he should listen to. Should he not enter and live? Or should he or should he accept the generous invitation and win a contest?
Minnow crept over and whispered something into Chip's mud-brown ear. Clover rushed over as fast as she could, but by the time she was close enough to hear what they were saying, sly Minnow had finished his whispering and foolish Chip was nodding his head.
"Okay," Chip announced merrily. "I'll enter the contest!"
"No!" Clover cried, desperate to stop Chip. Deep down, she knew that she had already lost. Her brother had said something to Chip that had convinced him to enter. Clover was helpless to change his mind.
"But, Minnow said that it doesn't matter if I die because I'll be a winner and that's just as great as living!" Chip meowed.
Clover sighed. She had lost that battle just as she had lost the one with her brother. Now, two of her friends had a sickeningly high chance of dying.
Clover and Minnow tried to get cats to decline and to accept. In the end, Clover had only managed to stop three cats. Minnow had gotten twelve cats to accept his contest invitation including Chip. The remaining twenty cats sat on the grass as the thirteen others stepped onto the road, much to Clover's disapproval.
The goal of the contest was to be the last one standing on the road. Depending on how long the contest lasted, there would be contests and other things to eliminate competitors. Clover just hoped that everyone got through the contest safely and unharmed.
"Good-bye, Minnow, Chip, Peanut, and all ten of you others. Good luck, everyone. I'm going back home," Clover called over her shoulder. Clover took care to look at every single one of the thirteen cats' faces. To remember them. Just in case one of them didn't return.
And, with a last look at the thirteenth cat, FluffFurFlurFluff, she darted away, into the bushes. Would this be the last time she saw one of them?
Clover didn't even want to know the answer.
*****
Clover ran into her mother, Satin, at the entrance of the den. She hadn’t been looking where she was going, the stinging tears in her eyes weren’t allowing her to do so, anyway. She could only hope that, at the end of the contest, all thirteen cats would return.
Her mother was a young and pretty tortoiseshell lynx she-cat. Tortoiseshell lynx cats, like her mother, where tortoiseshells with tabby stripes on their foreheads and other remote places. Clover had always thought that her chocolate -brown and smokey silver mother was the most beautiful she-cat to have ever walked the Earth.
“Hello, Clover!” Satin meowed merrily.
Clover couldn’t help but stare for a while. Her mother had used to be a house cat, and was an impossibly neat neat-freak. Having been a pampered pet, she knew to always keep her fur more clean then any other cat’s. Her luscious coat was fitting to her name: long and glossy, smooth and silky. There was nothing to do but stare.
“Hi, Mother,” Clover said hurriedly, hoping that Satin didn’t notice the rude stare. “So, um, Minnow got twelve other cats to enter his contest.”
“What? That was today? Oh, no! We’ve got to stop them! They’ll get hit by a thunderweel!” Satin cried, tears already forming in her sapphire-blue eyes beneath her luscious, thick black lashes.
Clover hung her head in defeat. “I tried. I tired as hard as I could, but he and the other cats wouldn’t listen.”
“I’ve been asking him to stop profusely, also,” Satin sighed, utterly depressed. She was very protective of her son and daughter and didn’t want one of them to be isolated away from her with
a terribly high chance of death with her helpless to do anything for his benefit. All she could do was hope.
“Come on, Mother. Let’s fix up our home to get our minds off of this mess,” Clover suggested, feeling hopeless.
“Good idea,” Satin agreed.
So, together, they went into the cave. There were stone compartments that they stored by their nests. In their compartments, they kept their greatest treasures. Some of these included Clover’s old rock dolls from when she was very little. And Satin’s old collar. And Minnow’s small stone ball.
All of the things had been dumped out of their bins by Minnow.
Minnow, who was on the tarmac at that very moment.
Minnow, who sat among others with thunderweels rushing past.
Minnow, who could get hit by one of those thunderweels.
And all they could do was hope.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Her mother was a young and pretty tortoiseshell lynx she-cat. Tortoiseshell lynx cats, like her mother, where tortoiseshells with tabby stripes on their foreheads and other remote places. Clover had always thought that her chocolate -brown and smokey silver mother was the most beautiful she-cat to have ever walked the Earth.
“Hello, Clover!” Satin meowed merrily.
Clover couldn’t help but stare for a while. Her mother had used to be a house cat, and was an impossibly neat neat-freak. Having been a pampered pet, she knew to always keep her fur more clean then any other cat’s. Her luscious coat was fitting to her name: long and glossy, smooth and silky. There was nothing to do but stare.
“Hi, Mother,” Clover said hurriedly, hoping that Satin didn’t notice the rude stare. “So, um, Minnow got twelve other cats to enter his contest.”
“What? That was today? Oh, no! We’ve got to stop them! They’ll get hit by a thunderweel!” Satin cried, tears already forming in her sapphire-blue eyes beneath her luscious, thick black lashes.
Clover hung her head in defeat. “I tried. I tired as hard as I could, but he and the other cats wouldn’t listen.”
“I’ve been asking him to stop profusely, also,” Satin sighed, utterly depressed. She was very protective of her son and daughter and didn’t want one of them to be isolated away from her with
a terribly high chance of death with her helpless to do anything for his benefit. All she could do was hope.
“Come on, Mother. Let’s fix up our home to get our minds off of this mess,” Clover suggested, feeling hopeless.
“Good idea,” Satin agreed.
So, together, they went into the cave. There were stone compartments that they stored by their nests. In their compartments, they kept their greatest treasures. Some of these included Clover’s old rock dolls from when she was very little. And Satin’s old collar. And Minnow’s small stone ball.
All of the things had been dumped out of their bins by Minnow.
Minnow, who was on the tarmac at that very moment.
Minnow, who sat among others with thunderweels rushing past.
Minnow, who could get hit by one of those thunderweels.
And all they could do was hope.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
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