The Silver Protector And Me

Munkustrap

In a quiet street, somewhere in Lisson Grove, Snorrescha carefully placed the unconscious Snowshoe onto the ground, making sure her head was comfortably pillowed in Hortenseya's lap, and instructed her friend to keep her warm. "She's fine," he assured the Korat. "However, I think her foot needs looking at."

Leaving the queens to attend to her, he diverted his attention towards the three toms, his countenance turning grim. "So?" He asked. "Would anyone care to tell me why we had The MOGs chasing after us?"

"I tried to stop him, Sir," confessed a brown tabby and white of no obvious breed.

"Stop who doing what, Admetus?"

The tom jerked his head in the direction of the Piebald Angora, whose colouring made him look as though he'd had an accident with a tin of black paint, with patches splattered all over his white fur, including a patch across one eye and a dribble on the opposite side of his muzzle. "Your son, it would seem, is COMPLETELY incapable of following the simplest instruction of 'stay put until you're told to move.'"

Snorrescha turned to his son. "Alonzo?"

"Sorry," Alonzo mumbled, though he didn't look in the least bit... a detail that irked his father greatly as he awaited further justification- and got nothing of the sort.

"Sorry for what?" He probed. "Sorry for almost getting us caught? Sorry for making us run for two miles straight? What? Or are you just saying it for effect?"

Alonzo shrugged. "It was the guard! He was the one that started it!" Despite his outwardly brazen attitude, he failed to hold the gaze of his father, whose eyes he could feel burning into him.

"What have I told you about picking fights? You almost jeopardised the whole mission-!"

"I said I'm sorry!" Alonzo rudely retorted. "Or didn't you hear?"

"I'll have less of your backchat, if you don't mind!" Snorrescha growled.

"Oh yeah? And who the Hell are you to talk to ME about not fighting?"

"That wasn't part of the plan, I'll admit… but I had no choice and you know it!"

"Not part of the plan?" Alonzo repeated, completely ignoring the mark that he had readily overstepped. "How can you stand there and accuse me-?"

"ENOUGH!"

Alonzo cowed, but the tip of his tail continued to flick defiantly, while his father pointed a warning finger to go along with his 'don't push me' look. "Go get some rest. I will deal with you later!" Following that, he addressed the other two. "Plato, Admetus… good job tonight. You may leave us- oh, but could you inform Jelly and Jenny that we're back?"

The Turkish Van and the tabby both nodded and scampered off, while Alonzo sloped sullenly in a different direction, disappearing into the shadows without another word.

"Does he always talk to you like that?" Inquired Hortenseya, after they'd gone.

Snorrescha ignored the question. Instead, he nodded towards the Snowshoe. "How is she?"

"Her foot is badly strained, but not broken," she replied. "May I ask what you intend to do with us?"

"I do not intend to do anything with you."

She frowned at that. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you are free to make your own decision about what to do with you." He gestured to the surroundings. "You have homes, I take it?"

The queens knew he meant human homes. "We do, but Jazzie is injured," the shimmering cat responded. "We will not leave her."

He nodded understandingly. "In that case, I can offer you temporary shelter, as well as basic medical care, if you wish to take it?"

"And I suppose you'll be expecting returns on your... hospitality?"

He looked directly at her, but if he was taken aback by her cold accusation, he didn't show it.

"You owe us an explanation. If it is not to make use of us, why did you rescue us?"

At that, he lowered his eyes and patiently elucidated, "Well... the main reason I rescued you is because I feel fairly strongly that what Macavity is doing is wrong. I may not be able to stop him completely, but I can at least save a few from their fate. So I do."

To add weight to his rationalisation, he held out his left paw and turned it over, so that the pad could be seen.

The Korat's eyes widened a little at what she saw. A white scar, apparently scorched into his palm. And tilting her head, she could make out the shape of the numbers: 502.

"You were a slave?"

"Some years ago now."

"I'm sorry that happened to you. But it still doesn't answer why you rescued us."

Snorrescha suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Well… let me start by introducing myself. For my name is not actually Snorrescha."

Hortenseya growled. "Who are you, then?"

Drawing himself up, the tom replied, "My name is Munkustrap: Protector of the Jellicles and Guardian of this territory. The truth is, our tribe is in desperate need of a doctor. The sisters who serve our community are- and they'll hate me for saying this- aging and dreadfully overworked."

"What's that got to do with us?" Hortenseya snapped.

"I have on good authority that your talents are some of the best. In fact, I intended to contact you sooner, had Macavity not gotten to you first, to ask if there's a chance you'd agree to work for us. You'd get a decent wage, accommodation, plus anything else you might need."

He waited patiently while the queen's quietly conferred among themselves. "What do you think?" Hortenseya muttered.

Norstara shrugged. "Seems nice enough. I'm not getting any bad vibes or anything."

"I'd say shelter sounds good," whispered Lucitana. "And if we could get us something to eat that would be a bonus."

Finally, Hortenseya looked up. "My friends are tired. May we discuss this later?"

The Maine Coon nodded. "Of course. This is a lot for you to take in." He motioned towards a padlocked gate, in which there was a gap just big enough for them all to squeeze through, then saw Hortenseya struggling to get up, attempting to lift the dead weight of her friend. "I can take her," he suggested. "You go on through. It's quite safe."

Taking the Snowshoe from Hortenseya's straining arms, he lifted her as though she were nothing more than a feather and followed the others through the open gate.