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Chapter 64: Stray Cat Strut
🕑 Added 2024-11-18 06:58:29 +0000 UTCChapter 64: Stray Cat Strut
Ultimately, I gave no further thought to the matter of the Rainbow Fruit, beyond making a mental note to tell Pumpkin not to eat certain valuables, if they ever entered my storage. Whether he would listen was an open question, but I wouldn’t know without trying. As for tasting it myself, whilst I was a strong believer in the power of empiricism, I was not so conceited as to ignore the experiences of others. One did not need to eat dirt to know it was foul, so I was willing to give Pumpkin the benefit of the doubt on this matter. In any event, despite the unexpected delay to our journey, the caravan’s path and objectives remained unchanged, so I would need my rest for the days ahead. Thus resolved, I settled down in my chair as the sun disappeared over the horizon, doing my best to fall asleep.
—
Pumpkin woke up suddenly, his entire body shuddering with a mighty sneeze, sending a wave of pain through his sinuses and across his body as his muscles clenched suddenly.
“Ugh,” the cat shuddered, shaking in place as the aftershocks faded, his eyes cracking open in displeasure. “Maybe I should’ve cleaned the crate before climbing inside.”
Given that he was already awake, Pumpkin didn’t hesitate to jump out of the crate, landing on the floor of the carriage that he’d claimed as his own. Will was the only other occupant, slumped over sideways with his upper body hanging over an armrest. He was deep asleep, his breathing smooth and untroubled after several deaths during the day, in the manner of those unburdened by conscience. Unfortunately, this also meant that Pumpkin had no way back into storage, since Will was the only one who could open the door.
“Poor guy, he’s going to wake up sore,” Pumpkin laughed, noting down yet another weakness of the human form: it was far too big for its own good.
Pumpkin sympathised, though not enough to actually adjust the posture of his primary source of food and shelter, instead of leaving him to languish.
“Too much effort,” the lazy cat sighed. “Also, I’d rather not get hit in the face with another plum.”
Knowing that Will tended to react poorly to being woken up at night, Pumpkin elected to find his own source of entertainment. Slipping out of their shared abode, he found his way out to the edge of the caravan, looking up at the sleeping masses. Harvey slept at the head of the convoy, having replaced the fallen driver of the first carriage; when Pumpkin squinted, he could just about see the faint green lines of enchantment that had been added to his seat.
[Arcadian Soul Snare: An automatic defence capable of discerning intentions. Those who come in peace are welcomed, whilst those attempting harm are consumed.]
None of the regular drivers had anything like this, though Pumpkin did note that their horses were far more alert, their coats shivering with barely concealed energy, even though they slept with blinders over their eyes.
“Is this the difference that Animal Handling makes?”
As far as Pumpkin knew, Harvey had nothing from the System in that area, though he could of course still perform basic tasks such as driving a carriage, in the same way that a Chef Class wasn’t needed to cook. He simply wouldn’t be as effective as a specialist in the area, which was a qualitative difference that effort alone could not overcome. In any event, none of them looked eager to play with him either.
“Why can’t humans be more nocturnal?” Pumpkin complained, resigned to another night of finding his own entertainment.
[Field Mouse - Level 0]
Unfortunately, the best he could find were a handful of common rodents, too meek to earn even a Level 1 designation, which in the eyes of the System marked them as mere infants, unfit for growth and sentience. Catching them was simple, too simple to be any fun, and Pumpkin wasn’t hungry either, so he let the poor mouse go after a few experimental licks.
“Bored now,” Pumpkin groaned, returning his attention to the convoy after just a few minutes of catch and release.
After a moment of consideration, he decided not to return to Will’s carriage, instead heading to the one at the very back of the caravan, craning his head up to gauge the distance he needed to jump.
“Actually,” he changed his mind. “Let’s try my new skill!”
Pumpkin had received decent gains during the recent battles, even managing to level up in the process, and so proudly brought up his status page that reflected this.
[Pumpkin
Class: Level 3 Cat
Title: [Empty]
Experience: 315/400
Traits
Nine Lives: 9/9 remaining.
Omniglot: Understands every spoken language. Ability to speak not included.
Cheshire’s Glory: Teleport to target within line of sight.
Titles
Accessory: You’re absolutely marvellous at helping people kill. It would be unwise to wear this in public.
Advancement
Annoy people.
Assist your owner.
Kill, kill, kill.]
“Chesire’s Glory, go!” Pumpkin declared, staring intently at the top step of the carriage, right below the tent flap that would grant her entry.
Now, it should be noted that while the System greatly enhanced the denizens of this world, elevating them beyond common specimens, their starting point was still bound by biology. Being a cat, Pumpkin’s visual acuity was 20/150, which by human standards would be mild to moderately near-sighted, and he’d yet to receive any traits to counteract this. As a result, his aim at a distance left a lot to be desired.
“Oof,” Pumpkin gasped, the wind knocked out of him by the sudden transfer, as he landed hard on the roof of the carriage. “At least it worked? Sort of.”
There wasn’t a hole at the top, so Pumpkin had to slide down the tent to the entry flap, and only then did he manage to make his way inside, with the sleeper driver at the front no wiser to his arrival. Only then did he finally achieve his goal; a room all to himself.
