So it will feel better about destroying me?”
“To drive it away. No creature could stand to listen to you long. Maybe that’s your real talent: to drive away beasts.”
He stared at her. “I never thought of that!”
“So maybe that’s my contribution: to think of something. Now let’s find something to eat and drink, before it gets too dark. And maybe something to make a tent.”
“But you’re going to sleep in a tree, as a cat.”
“Maybe.” She gestured to one side of the glade. “On my way here I crossed a streamlet. A pie plant grew beside it, and a blanket bush. Those should do nicely.”
“You knew this, but you didn’t tell me?”
”You didn’t ask.” She walked in that direction.
He followed her, unable to avoid admiring her curves in motion despite his annoyance with her attitude.
“You’re looking,” she said without turning her head.
How did women always know? “Yes.”
“Men do. I’d have to wear a poncho to stop them. It’s annoying.”
“So the Orb will point you to a man who doesn’t look.”
“Oh, I don’t want that.”
“You don’t? I thought—”
“I want a man who appreciates me for something other than my curves. He can appreciate my curves too, as long as that’s not the only thing.”
“That does make sense.”
They came to the streamlet, which was exactly as she had described. They drank the water, harvested pies, and pitched a small tent made from blankets. Feline nibbled a chunk of cheese she had harvested. “Hoo!” she exclaimed. “That’s really sharp.”
“Sharp?”
“Try it.” She broke off a section and handed it to him.
He tried it. It was so sharp he almost cut his tongue. “Hoo!” he agreed. “What kind is it?”
“Swiss Army Cheese, I believe. Sharp like a knife with multiple blades.”
“Sharp,” he agreed.
As darkness closed they sat together in the tent. They still had the two kits, ready to use them at need.
“So who sleeps here?” he asked, just in case she meant to use it herself.
“We both do.”
“But—”
“Don’t be concerned. I will assume my cat form to sleep.”
Oh. Of course. “Uh, should we take turns keeping watch? In case there are beasts?”
“No need. I sleep lightly. I will know if anything approaches, and will alert you. Then you can play to drive it away.”
“But wouldn’t you be safer, even so, up in a tree?”
“Not necessarily. There are predators in trees, too. A dragon could come and toast me, for example.”
That was another thing he hadn’t thought of. “I suppose so.”
“Or an autocrat.”
“A what?”
“AutocRat,” she repeated, pronouncing it carefully. “A tyrannical rat that has it in for cats.”
“Oh.” As usual, he had no clever comment.
“Are you sleepy yet?”
“No. It will take me time to unwind.” He refrained from saying that sitting so close to her curves was part of what was winding him up.
“Me too. So now must be the time for our histories.”
“Our whats?”
“We didn’t just come into existence when we met. Tell me your personal life history and I’ll tell you mine. That way there should be fewer nasty surprises as we tackle the Quest. If those narrations don’t bore us to sleep, maybe we can play games of tic-tac-toe.”
He laughed. “I like the way your mind works.”
“What, something other than my curves?”
Why did she have to spoil it? “Yes,” he agreed shortly.
“You first.”
“I’m pretty simple, as you already know,” he said with attempted irony he knew wasn’t working well. “I was delivered twenty one years ago to a beefsteak tomato farmer who made a good living providing steaks to others. I was, I suppose—” He hesitated.
“Was what?” she prompted.
He plowed on. “A disappointment. I wasn’t especially smart or handsome, and my talent was a waste. Also, I was sort of stubborn.”
“Another name for gumption, maybe.”
“Maybe. So when I grew old enough to live on my own, I moved out
“To drive it away. No creature could stand to listen to you long. Maybe that’s your real talent: to drive away beasts.”
He stared at her. “I never thought of that!”
“So maybe that’s my contribution: to think of something. Now let’s find something to eat and drink, before it gets too dark. And maybe something to make a tent.”
“But you’re going to sleep in a tree, as a cat.”
“Maybe.” She gestured to one side of the glade. “On my way here I crossed a streamlet. A pie plant grew beside it, and a blanket bush. Those should do nicely.”
“You knew this, but you didn’t tell me?”
”You didn’t ask.” She walked in that direction.
He followed her, unable to avoid admiring her curves in motion despite his annoyance with her attitude.
“You’re looking,” she said without turning her head.
How did women always know? “Yes.”
“Men do. I’d have to wear a poncho to stop them. It’s annoying.”
“So the Orb will point you to a man who doesn’t look.”
“Oh, I don’t want that.”
“You don’t? I thought—”
“I want a man who appreciates me for something other than my curves. He can appreciate my curves too, as long as that’s not the only thing.”
“That does make sense.”
They came to the streamlet, which was exactly as she had described. They drank the water, harvested pies, and pitched a small tent made from blankets. Feline nibbled a chunk of cheese she had harvested. “Hoo!” she exclaimed. “That’s really sharp.”
“Sharp?”
“Try it.” She broke off a section and handed it to him.
He tried it. It was so sharp he almost cut his tongue. “Hoo!” he agreed. “What kind is it?”
“Swiss Army Cheese, I believe. Sharp like a knife with multiple blades.”
“Sharp,” he agreed.
As darkness closed they sat together in the tent. They still had the two kits, ready to use them at need.
“So who sleeps here?” he asked, just in case she meant to use it herself.
“We both do.”
“But—”
“Don’t be concerned. I will assume my cat form to sleep.”
Oh. Of course. “Uh, should we take turns keeping watch? In case there are beasts?”
“No need. I sleep lightly. I will know if anything approaches, and will alert you. Then you can play to drive it away.”
“But wouldn’t you be safer, even so, up in a tree?”
“Not necessarily. There are predators in trees, too. A dragon could come and toast me, for example.”
That was another thing he hadn’t thought of. “I suppose so.”
“Or an autocrat.”
“A what?”
“AutocRat,” she repeated, pronouncing it carefully. “A tyrannical rat that has it in for cats.”
“Oh.” As usual, he had no clever comment.
“Are you sleepy yet?”
“No. It will take me time to unwind.” He refrained from saying that sitting so close to her curves was part of what was winding him up.
“Me too. So now must be the time for our histories.”
“Our whats?”
“We didn’t just come into existence when we met. Tell me your personal life history and I’ll tell you mine. That way there should be fewer nasty surprises as we tackle the Quest. If those narrations don’t bore us to sleep, maybe we can play games of tic-tac-toe.”
He laughed. “I like the way your mind works.”
“What, something other than my curves?”
Why did she have to spoil it? “Yes,” he agreed shortly.
“You first.”
“I’m pretty simple, as you already know,” he said with attempted irony he knew wasn’t working well. “I was delivered twenty one years ago to a beefsteak tomato farmer who made a good living providing steaks to others. I was, I suppose—” He hesitated.
“Was what?” she prompted.
He plowed on. “A disappointment. I wasn’t especially smart or handsome, and my talent was a waste. Also, I was sort of stubborn.”
“Another name for gumption, maybe.”
“Maybe. So when I grew old enough to live on my own, I moved out
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