“Mraaaoo...!”
“Miau~”
“Nya~!”
“Ngaw?”
“MEONG!!!”
...A smoky mist pervaded the wooded grove of Babyface hills.
Furred Felines from the nearby regions of Poison Prose to the left, and Royal Under to the right, poured into the clearing masked by trees without end. From behind rocks, down from shadowed Crowns, stealthily making their way from foliage and shrubbery.
With sharpened claws and a mocking hiss, their confident eyes lock freshly onto their prey. These Cats of varying origins had one common enemy standing like guardians opposite them:
.
.
.
Dogs.
Viscous goop trickles atop fresh mulch, as the vanguard canids salivate at the thought of what awaits their victory. Their gleaming teeth bare at the impatient thought of catching such fish-loving prey with rapt desire to hunt. For what awaits them is the holy land: The central town of adventurers – and the right to live there as strays.
Yes, this...war between ancient rivals would happen every seven springs. Which clan rules the adventurer town – the holy land of strays due to its surplus of monster meat as well as the safety of well-experienced monster hunters...and which beaten group of losers must scatter towards the surrounding settlements with their tails between their legs.
Cats stealthily take to their surroundings as Dogs prepare to chase. This is a fight worth dying for!
“...Pfft. What fools.”
Yes...a foolish fight between arrogant, tamed animals that want to be as close to that precious “monster meat” as possible.
War? Pfft, they tell the younger generations of cats and dogs that, but we’re just putting on a show for the adventurers outside the wooded grove! Look at them, food in their hands while watching the fight from their carriages like it’s an entertaining sport they’ve been looking forward to - Every. Seven. Years.
What war?! The moment someone gets injured, they are ‘disqualified’. They must leave the battle! You call that war?! This is just a game of tag! Tag with teeth and claws!
Nonsense. I would never get caught dead stooping so low.
Hmph, I am far above such behavior.
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Well, I’m too young to join anyway, but still!
I have a plan! Right now, this VERY moment, powerful and popular merchants from the merchant association are trying to take advantage of the "war" to sell food and wares to onlooking adventurers and strange visitors from afar! Well, that’s obviously going to leave many places lacking in merchants, so this is the ONLY time rookies can make a name for themselves in cities, towns or villages normally claimed by their seniors.
---
“(This ‘war’ will last a few days after all.) ‘Meow’ meow meow.”
“Shh, Jona, did you hear something?”
“(Oops...!)”
“...No? Let’s just hurry before someone gets the jump on us.”
---
...Safe! The truth is, I am hiding inside a barrel of potatoes being sold by that pair of upcoming food merchant brothers.
My goal?
Mweheheh.
Obviously...
To escape this stupid clan of stray cats
GAH! They're insufferably evil! Making me beg for scraps then only giving me a small share just because I’m small, my scraps are all mine!
...Ugh, why am I accepting begging for scraps as normal? I used to be a normal person from earth, y'know! Suddenly I was born in a litter of kittens owned by a scary family of Orcs. Every kitten from my litter died 'cept for Me and my brother Nyabel. They said I was to blame 'cause I'm gray and white and threw me away. Brother Nyabel was protected from my 'evil curse'...so he was put up for adoption as some holy cat.
Crazy orcs. Just wait until I grow up. Mwehehe. In this scary fantasy world, once I learn magic, I'm coming for you!
...The clippety-clopping of horse hoofs signal our departure. Rackety wheels disperse gravel and steadily ride away from the Southern Gate.
Finally, the carriage is moving. I can bid this dumb place farewell.
What Adventurers Town? What Holy Land? Monsters are everywhere, aren’t they? Then monster meat will be easy to find. How would a city of adventurers be safe when adventurers are always out adventuring? Who will protect the place? Pfft, let them all stay there. Not me! I... what I want, is to go on adventures. To learn magic and-oh! And to hunt monsters! To live out my fantasy dream! Somehow...I will achieve it!
---
Nyaaawn...this is so relaxing-
“G-G-GOBLINS!! HOARDS OF THEM!!!”
“See?!?! THIS is why I wanted to hire ADVENTURERS as bodyguards!!”
“We don’t have the MONEY to splurge like that!! A-And everyone would know of our intentions if we put up a wanted poster or if the adventurers we approached in secret turned us down, a-a-and-!”
“Bah, enough!! We’ve to distract ‘em so we can get the horses moving. Throw away the potatoes.”
...Huh?
“B-But my precious potatoes-”
“Which do you wanna keep, your LIFE or your POTATOES?! ‘Cause right now, "both" isn’t an option.”
“...Fine.”
Wait...W-Wa-Wait just a minute. I know I said I wanted to have an adventure, but-but not THIS early! I-I mean I just started leav-
“HEAVE-HO! SUCK ON THESE YOU LITTLE IMPS! FRESH FROM MOMMA MAIA'S FARM!!”
Before my thoughts finish churning, processing, the barrel I hid inside was carelessly thrown by the younger brother towards the goblins. I say that because his voice is very distinct. If I live, I will remember you, little food merchant brother. I know your voice now.
The barrel cracked from the impact and its cover slid off. As I was slipping out, my front claws subconsciously stretched into the walls of the barrel, puncturing it on the left and right, so I don’t tumble towards the green monsters KEHEEHEEing around the only entry to my hiding spot, as if they found a chest of gold. Still slipping, I kicked against some potatoes to regain my footing, causing said vegetables to shoot out of the barrel and strike a nearby goblin’s foot. The spilling potatoes catch the entire hoard’s attention now, and they immediately encircle it, long enough for the merchant brothers to ride around to the opposite end of the dirt road and break away. Seems their horses were trained purchases. Realizing they’d been tricked, the goblins scream and give chase.
All except for one.
I almost celebrated too early. One goblin remains by the barrel. The one whose foot I hit when I kicked off of the potatoes. It seems to have caught a whiff of something who's delectable smell nearly went entirely masked by the earthly scent of these uprooted vegetables.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Its foot falls rhythmically synchronize with my pounding heart, as if to echo my grating fear. To humans, a single goblin is about the size of a small child. To a CAT, however, Goblins are still freaking tall! Worse: I’m not even fully grown!
Before I can stop my beating heart...and my teensy kitty-wheezing sounds, I see a crumply nose enter the hole, likely to confirm what it smelled.
I kicked a potato up its enlarged nose, and he began 'KIIEEEK'ing in a mixture of apparent anger and surprise.
...I couldn't help it, okay! He was smelling me! That's disgusting!
He noticed no further movement and instead of a nose, I saw an enlarged eye peek inside. We made eye contact.
So huge!
Out of fear I let go of the barrel's enclosed walls and launched my claw at the eyeball. After it started screaming, I bolted for the nearest trees I could see. There was no way for me to know if it was following or not, but I simply kept running.
This was NOT how I pictured my very first adventure to go.
