BELLUM FELES: The Most Complete History of The War Against The Hidden Paw

Errands

Munkustrap had always been an unusually early riser, for a Jellicle. Most days he was awake within an hour or two of sunup, to check in with the night guards and inspect the Junkyard for anything that might be amiss. Once satisfied that all was well he would clean himself up, catch some breakfast, and then begin organizing the day's activities; hunts, lessons for the kittens, sparring for the younger toms and queens to practice their skills, followed by visiting the elders to make sure their needs were attended to.

Today, however, he was up before the sun. Slipping out of the Junkyard, he trotted silently to the south. The Moon still hung low in the sky, and he had to tear his gaze from it as he walked; the Jellicle Ball was tonight, and he could already feel the madness rising in his blood. As he walked, his mind drifted to the same thought that had been nagging him for the past two days.

Why were the Pollicles congregating en masse, at night, so far ahead of the Hunt?

Somari and Arenno had returned the previous day with more information; the Pollicles were now roving brazenly through the neighborhoods surrounding their territory, attacking and tormenting creatures of all species and tribes. Arenno, translating for Somari, had explained how their numbers had swelled yet again, until the forests and fields of Richmond Park were filled to bursting with Pollicles. Most concerning, however, was the last of the information provided: multiple confirmed sightings of Macavity in various areas of London coinciding with a number of break-ins, thefts, assaults, and in one case, the death of a Jellicle dog.

Munkustrap had been very generous with the ravens' pay for this knowledge. In thanks, Arenno provided him with the name of a Richmond Park resident who would likely be willing to pass information, along with a meeting place and time. He hurried through alleyways and across bridges until he came to the park's edge, climbing a tree to wait for his contact to appear.

He did not have to wait long. Over a nearby hill walked a doe, her ears perked as she listened carefully for predators. She grazed here and there in the grass, her graceful neck stretching to nip at the greenery. Eventually she made her way over to Munkustrap's tree, where she sat down on the ground near the roots. After a few minutes she spoke, almost too quiet to hear.

"What is your name?" Munkustrap climbed down to a lower branch, one with few enough leaves that she could see him but not enough to leave him unshielded to outside eyes.

"Munkustrap, of the Jellicles. You are Rusulka?" The deer nodded slightly, still gazing serenely over the horizon.

"I am. How can I help you, Munkustrap?" Munkustrap began to speak but froze, heart pounding, as a howl rang out in the distance. After an agonizingly long time it faded away, and no other howls followed; a single Pollicle finding a meal, perhaps. The full Hunt was still in the future. Rusulka had also tensed upon hearing the howl, and released a long-held breath when it disappeared. After a few moments' silence she spoke again.

"There are more of them every day. The herd is terrified. We fear for our fawns." Munkustrap jumped down and crouched behind her, using Rusalka's bulk to keep himself out of sight.

"How long has this been happening? Where are they coming from?"

"At least a month. They're coming in small groups to disguise their numbers, but more are arriving each day. There are many more than is usual for this time of year. As for where..." Rusulka sighed. "I could not tell you. Everywhere. It seems every Pollicle in the land is congregating here in Richmond." Munkustrap peeked over Rusulka's back, scanning for Pollicles, then walked around to face her.

"Do you know why they're here?" Rusulka held his gaze for a long moment, then stood. She looked at the dark thicket that loomed in the distance, menacing even in the velvety morning light.