Fleck awoke the next day to Jade, strong as ever, shaking her from sleep. Tired and momentarily forgetting the events of the previous night, Fleck muttered incoherently. Jade’s worried and misty-eyed face put a stop to her mutterings.
“What is it?” Fleck asked, shaking herself in attempt to awaken her stiff limbs.
“It’s Stinger,” Jade replied in a harsh whisper, her throat apparently dry. Her tone was a mix of anger and depression. “He-he’s been killed.”
“K-killed?” Fleck stuttered as all of the unpleasant memories of that night came flooding back to her. Oh, what a blissful world sleep was! She would give all that she could to be able to press a reset button and erase all that had happened. Bring back Stinger...
Ginger had entered the den with Jade, but had been unnoticed until now, when she spoke up. “It’s horrible, isn’t it? We found him by the river bank, stabbed straight through the chest. They ganged up on him! How many paw marks that were freshly imprinted into the mud, I couldn’t tell you. There’s just to many to count, even after all of that rain!”
Ginger, too, tough as she was, looked as though she were on the verge of tears. Fleck felt a pained sort of depressed rage towards herself and Ember, cursing the both of them. Why, oh why did I listen to him? I could have just joined Slate’s cats. Then Stinger would still be alive...
“What’s the point of killing an innocent cat?” Fleck raged, feeling tears burning in the corners of her eyes and furrowing her brow in anger. “He didn’t deserve to die!”
“Ah, but those heartless cats of Ember’s obviously didn’t think that, did they?” Ginger snarled menacingly. “Ooh, I’m sure that they call us killers, and yet they’ve already killed Amber, Frost, and now Stinger!”
Trying desperately not to think about how she was responsible for all three of those horrible deaths, Fleck bristled with genuine rage and snarled in agreement. “They just won’t let up, will they?”
Sighing in a depressed manner, Jade plunked heavily down upon her little bed cove. “He was a good leader,” she murmured, gazing at nothingness.
Ob had entered the room. “I’hum surroy aboot yur freend dyin’ y’know? ‘E seemed purdy nice, but I didn’ git ta know ‘im moych, soy? Anywho, I jus wanted ta say tha’ soz, see y’all. Boi!”
His odd way of speech took a while to comprehend, and by the time they had, Ob was almost gone.
“Whatever,” Jade said dully.
“Wait!” Fleck called after Ob, ignoring Jade. “Ob, come back!”
Not a few moments after she had said this, Ob’s huge, round head emerged from beyond the rotted wood at the edge of the hollow’s entrance. “Ya call-ed meh?” Ob asked, a bit eagerly.
“I just wanted to say,” Fleck began, hesitating as she chose her words, “er, thank you. You’re being very kind and understanding, especially as for one who didn’t even know Stinger. You’re all right.”
Seeing this as a tremendous complement, Ob gave a thunderous whoop for joy and dashed gleefully away, humming tunelessly.
Ginger raised her eyebrows at Fleck in wonderment. “What was that all about?”
“I felt like we were shunning him a bit too much. He’s okay. A little dimwitted, but nice all the same,” Fleck replied shrugging casually.
“Whatever, weirdo,” Ginger said, chuckling in a rusty way, very much unlike her normal laughter and cuffing Fleck playfully about the ears.
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“You want to what?” Fleck questioned in a fiery, dangerous tone, wondering if her dim leader had finally cracked.
“I want to assassinate King Slate,” Ember chuckled gleefully.
“And just how are you going to do that, milord?” Fleck inquired, last word laden with greatly exaggerated sarcasm.
“I’m going to have you steal away into his den while he’s sleeping and slit his throat!” Ember replied cheerily.
“And you want me to literally murder him in his bed tonight?” Fleck asked, anger starting to show through her previously dangerously calm tone.
“Tonight!” Ember giggled.
“Well, I think that you must have had a bit too much to drink last night at your celebration feast and are still a wee bit tipsy. Call me back when your sober, all right?” Fleck told her king in a falsely light and cheery tone dripping with sarcasm.
“I didn’t drink anything,” the king denied gallantly with a pronounced hiccup. “Or, for that matter, have a celebration feast.”
“Then why are you acting like you’re drunk, hm?” Fleck hissed, flattening her ears. “I can’t just kill my king! It’ll take a lot of planning and I’m sure that he has some way of mechanical protection that his scientists thought up of. Plus, who knows what new measures that he’s decided to take for his own protection after last night. I mean, two deaths inside of his kingdom, he has gotta be reinforcing his defense system. And another thing, after I kill him--if I kill him, that is--the empire’s defense will become so powerful that I won’t even be able to leave to report back to you.”
Ember merely chuckled once she had finished. “No, no, no. You see, if you cut off the head, and then the body will die. I’m sure that they’ll all just flee and we’ll have won the war and that’ll be that!”
“No, Ember, what I’m trying to say is that--” Fleck began, greatly annoyed.
“Ha, ha, ha!” Ember laughed jubilantly, cutting Fleck off in mid-sentence. “You see, it’s so very simple! We’re gonna win the war and it’s going to be so easy--”
This time, Fleck was the one who was interrupting. “Ah, but no, it won’t be easy,” her voice was falsely gently. “I can be sure of that. And no matter what you say in your drunken state is going to make me think otherwise.”
“I’m not--!” King Ember fumed in defiance.
“Good-bye, Ember,” Fleck said coldly as she took the earpiece off.
Glad that she could hear Ember’s demented laughter anymore, Fleck exited the bush, unconcerned of where she was going.
Tonight, she though. I suppose that I should do as my ‘great king’ bids, but still... Assassinating Slate? He really must have had something quite strong to drink, the diluted fool...
Chuckling a little, Fleck quickened her pace and headed towards the empire, eager to rest snuggled within her comfy little cove in the ash tree.
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-KittyLover8
© 2013
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