Tailchaser’s Song

"… J-just… just… moment…" panted the newcomer, and made a comical face as he returned to the business of recovering his wind.

"Forgive me," he said after a few more moments, "but I was up, up, up a terribly tall tree when you left the healing-spot, and I had to run like dead Uncle Whitewind to catch you. Oh!" he said, looking about. "I do hope none of Prince Dewtreader's friends or relations heard me say that. It was terribly disrespectful." He looked at Tailchaser, and gave him such a sly, fu

"Ummm, you said your name was…? Fritti ventured after a moment. The stranger sneezed once, convulsively, and delicately stroked his nose with the back of his paw.

"Forgive me," he said. "I quite forget myself sometimes. I'm Howlsong. Prince Fencewalker asked that you be, well, not watched over, exactly, but that you have a… a…" Howlsong wrinkled his nose, thinking.

"A guide?" offered Fritti.

"A guide! Excellent! That's the sound of it exactly! Yes, so… here I am."

"That was kind of Prince Fencewalker to remember me."

"He is a fine fellow, right enough. A little too prone to knocking people down, if you know what I mean, but a solid cat. Claws firmly in the bark, we always say. Now, the Prince Consort…" Here Howlsong trailed off meaningfully. Fritti, unsure of what to say, nodded his head politely.

"Well then," said Howlsong suddenly, and fell into a deep fluid-spined stretch. "Well then," he resumed, "let us go and look at Firsthome. The rest of it, I mean. I hear this is your first visit? It's terribly, terribly big and impressive-especially the Court. You'll have to wait to see that until Fencewalker arranges it. Did you really come from across the Sunsnest Plains?"

"From far on the other side, beyond the Old Woods," answered Tailchaser.

"Incredible. Just amazing!" said Howlsong. "Do they have trees where you live? I suppose they must, mustn't they?"

They had been walking for only a few moments when Fritti suddenly remembered Pouncequick. Full of worry for his little companion, he questioned Howlsong.

"Oh, they put him in the warmest healing-spot, since he was sicker than you were, and brought him sweet grasses and a little bit of mouse. He's doing much better now," Howlsong assured him. "I'll take you to see him later."

They continued on their way. Howlsong seemed to positively bubble with anecdotes and trivia. He explained to Tailchaser that he was studying to be a Master Old-singer, but that his teacher was very busy because of some kind of Meeting taking place that night-consequently leaving him nothing to do, and making him available to accompany Fritti. He mentioned to Fritti that his "set"-which Tailchaser took to mean some kind of grouping of young cats-all found Fence walker to be "quite an all-right type," although "a bit hearty." Howlsong also explained that the Prince Consort, Prince Dewtreader, was thought of as being "awfully serious" and "nearly boring." Queen Sunback was "the loveliest cat, of course." Tailchaser was bewildered by the familiarity with which Howlsong discussed and characterized the hereditary leaders of the Folk-as if they were any group of alley-haunters in the dwellings of M'an!

Customs were just different at Firsthome, it seemed, and it would take him a while to get used to them. Still, much was unfathomable.

"Are there always such an uncountable lot of cats living here?" he asked at one point.

"Blueback's Whiskers, no!" laughed Howlsong. "Usually less than half this seething throng, I'd guess. They're here for the celebration I told you about."

"But even if there were only a quarter of these, that's so many! How do you find food? The forest must be Squeakerless for miles around."

"Oh, we do have to forage a bit far sometimes, it's true," admitted the apprentice Old-singer, "but Rootwood is the biggest forest there is-if things get thin, we send out hunting parties to stamp around and herd the game closer back to Court. It's a bit tiring sometimes, certainly-all the extra hunting and such-but it's worth it to live here. I mean, I've never lived anywhere else, and would never want to.

Never."

They walked as they conversed, and now and then Howlsong would interrupt the flow of discourse to point out an important sight: an extra-fine patch of mouse grass, a wonderful old scratching tree, or another cat who Howlsong felt was wretched, or gallant, or clever, or otherwise worthy of special attention. Many of these cats knew Howlsong and called greetings to him, which he cheerfully returned. Tailchaser decided that Firsthome was more like a tree full of birds than the anthill it had resembled at first impression.

After seeing a few more important attractions, and listening to a pair of young felas-"wonderfully close friends" of Howlsong's-singing a sweet and mournful little song, the twosome at last reached the bower that housed Pouncequick. They found him in a many-jumps-wide path of slanting sunlight. The kitten was awake and talking to a slender gray fela with dark-green eyes and short fur.

"Tailchaser!" cried Pouncequick when he spotted them. "I'm so happy to see you! I thought you were going to sleep all day and miss the fun. Aren't there ever so many cats here?"

Fritti walked over to him and sniffed the soft kitten-fur. The smell of sickness seemed to be gone.

"I'm very glad to see you, Pounce. I was worried about you."

"I'm feeling fine!" chortled the youngling. "Everyone's been grand to me. I've already made friends! Oh, that reminds me, I haven't offered face names. Tailchaser, this is Roofshadow." He indicated the gray cat, who bobbed demurely. "She's a visitor, too, as we are," Pouncequick expanded.

"Nre'fa-o," said Fritti. "Good dancing."

"And to you," she responded. After a polite head-dip, Fritti turned back to look at his small friend again. Pounce certainly did look better, although still a little on the scrawny side. He had eaten very little while he had been ill.

The thought of food made Fritti's mouth begin to water. He suddenly realized that he had had nothing to eat since the day before. He was hungry! Imagine going all afternoon without thinking of food. He really had changed since leaving home.

"Pounce, Howlsong said that they brought you some mouse…" he began.

"Oh, yes, a whole pile of them. They're over there. They were just killed this morning. Help yourself." Tailchaser began to move toward the heap of Squeakers, then hesitated, looking at Howlsong and Roof-shadow.

Howlsong laughed. "Eat up, cu'nre. Don't even notice me."

"I'll be going now, I think," said Roofshadow. "Perhaps you could escort me, Howlsong? I don't really know my way around yet.

"I'd be overwhelmed with pleasure. I'll see you two soon," he said to Fritti and Pouncequick. "I'll be back to take you to the celebration toward the end of the Unfolding Dark."

"And I'll return to visit you later, Pouncequick," added Roofshadow. The two cats walked away with tails curving into the air, Howlsong excitedly describing some phenomenon of Court intrigue to the young gray fela.

Tailchaser had not even waited to watch them leave, but was already up to his chin in mice, with Pouncequick squeaking merrily at the mess he was making.

Afternoon became evening as the two friends sat and talked. Pouncequick had not yet had a chance to see more of Firsthome than was visible from his healing-spot, and was anxious for details. As Tailchaser was describing the many things that Howlsong had showed him or told him of, the rains came again. They could hear the soft patting noise in the leaves above their heads; and occasionally a drop would slip through to plink on the grass or their fur. Most of the rain was stopped by the intermingling branches and hanging lichen, though, and they sat quite comfortably. Eventually they lay down together and napped, the tipping and tapping of raindrops a backdrop for their dreams.