The Cat
Based on the following prompt:
http://turn-kink.livejournal.com/799.html?thread=138527#t138527
The cat was sent by the enemy.
That’s the only explanation.
It was sent over to the camp by the King himself to completely enrage and demoralize every man at Valley Forge. It’s just one more thing to add to the lists of hardships over the winter.
The men paid the pathetic looking orange tabby no mind at first.
They’d push it away (then push a little harder when the little bastard when after their hands with razor sharp teeth and claws) and it would slink off to the next tent.
They figured it would move on as soon as it realized that no one had any extra scraps to spare. Maybe a farm somewhere down the road would take it in and give it a place to stay warm for the winter.
It quickly became evident that the cat’s heart was set on Valley Forge and nothing was going to change that.
He was out for revenged.
It started out small. Swatting at hands and batting at men’s legs as they ate their meals and refused to share. It would curl up on the blankets of sleeping soldiers and at the first hint of movement attack with full force, jolting the men awake and leaving them bloody and cursing before it high tailed it out of there.
It escalated from there. Stealing any food that’s left unattended- even for a second. It would make its way into officer’s tents and maintain eye contact with them while it jumped onto tables and knocked over mugs and ink wells. It left half eaten rats hidden under blankets and pillows and once in a laundry basket. The poor woman who found it screamed so loud six men showed up with rifles drawn.
It becomes a legend.
Rumors began to spread.
The current camp favorite seems to be the time the cat allegedly snuck into a meeting with Washington and lurked in the background, watching as Washington’s eyes got redder and redder, his nose began to run and he couldn’t stop sneezing. The meeting was halted, the camp doctor was called, and by the time the cat had been identified as the culprit and Washington sent his aides to capture it the cat had bounced off every surface available and sent vases, papers, and even a framed painting that had been hanging on the wall to the ground before escaping out of a cracked door.
Ben isn’t sure that any of that, or the rumor of a reward for the cat to be returned to Washington- dead or alive- actually happened but the camaraderie over the hatred of the cat has seemed to boost morale so Ben doesn’t actively discourage the rumor when he hears it.
In fact, he buys into it more every time he finds a dead mouse in his cot.
Tonight makes the fourth one in as many days.
He picks it up by the tail just as Caleb barrels into his tent then turns sharply to make sure the entrance is securely closed behind him.
There is a beat of silence as they stare at each other; Ben holding a dead mouse and Caleb holding his coat tightly around himself.
“Are you running from someone?” Ben breaks the silence first.
“Oh no. Not me.” Caleb ventures further into the tent, around Ben and towards his cot where he begins to undo the buttons on his coat. “My stowaway is, though.” He reaches down and pulls out the orange tabby and rubs its ears causing it to push its head further into Caleb’s palm.
Ben can’t believe it but it’s also the only thing that makes sense. Of course Caleb would befriend the demon cat. He should’ve seen this coming.
He points his free hand toward them. “You know that thing has a bounty on its head.”
“Of course I do.” Caleb says, not bothering to look up at Ben. “Why do you think I had to sneak him in here?”
“Him?”
“Well. I think it’s a him. I don’t think we’re close enough yet that I can just start checking but I’m going to assume he’s a him.”
Ben rolls his eyes. “Well are you close enough to tell your new friend to stop leaving these in my bed.” He holds up the mouse.
“He knows you don’t like him.”
“Nobody likes him. Have you heard what he did to Washington?”
Caleb laughs and pets the cat a little harder.
The cat purrs.
“Where is it even finding these things?”
“He is a hunter. He should be respected.”
Ben turns towards the tents opening to throw it out and by the time he comes back around Caleb is sitting on the edge of his bed, the cat happily on his lap eating what looks to be scraps of pork.
“You’re feeding the thing? You’re never going to get rid of it now.”
“I had to fatten him up. Couldn’t have little Georgie looking weak.”
“Georgie? As in…..George. Named after…”
“That’s right.” Caleb holds the cat up to Ben and Ben leans back to avoid it. “Named after the general himself. Our fearless leader. This cat is a symbol of the whole army. Started out looking like miserable and meek- people probably didn’t think it would live very long but slowly and surely he became confident and quick and now he’s easily able to defeat anyone that wishes to harm him.”
“You know the other rumor is that he’s was sent by the King to destroy our way of life here.”
“A spy.” Caleb brightens. “He’s perfect.”
Ben has to smile. “You better keep an eye on him. If anyone else gets a hold of him it’ll be the last of him.”
“No one else can catch him.”
“If he doesn’t stop leaving dead rodents in my bed I’ll kill him myself.”
“You would never.”
Ben lets it drop because he knows Caleb is right. He can kill the enemy without hesitation but he doesn’t have it in him to kill a semi-innocent animal, let alone one that Caleb obviously adores.
He settles into his desk chair and watches the two of them for a moment. Caleb is relaxed back on the cot with the cat purring happily on his chest.
It’s the calmest Ben has seen Caleb in years and he decides right then that the cat must be protected no matter what.
But Caleb will never catch him calling him George.
http://turn-kink.livejournal.com/799.html?thread=138527#t138527
The cat was sent by the enemy.
That’s the only explanation.
It was sent over to the camp by the King himself to completely enrage and demoralize every man at Valley Forge. It’s just one more thing to add to the lists of hardships over the winter.
The men paid the pathetic looking orange tabby no mind at first.
They’d push it away (then push a little harder when the little bastard when after their hands with razor sharp teeth and claws) and it would slink off to the next tent.
They figured it would move on as soon as it realized that no one had any extra scraps to spare. Maybe a farm somewhere down the road would take it in and give it a place to stay warm for the winter.
It quickly became evident that the cat’s heart was set on Valley Forge and nothing was going to change that.
He was out for revenged.
It started out small. Swatting at hands and batting at men’s legs as they ate their meals and refused to share. It would curl up on the blankets of sleeping soldiers and at the first hint of movement attack with full force, jolting the men awake and leaving them bloody and cursing before it high tailed it out of there.
It escalated from there. Stealing any food that’s left unattended- even for a second. It would make its way into officer’s tents and maintain eye contact with them while it jumped onto tables and knocked over mugs and ink wells. It left half eaten rats hidden under blankets and pillows and once in a laundry basket. The poor woman who found it screamed so loud six men showed up with rifles drawn.
It becomes a legend.
Rumors began to spread.
The current camp favorite seems to be the time the cat allegedly snuck into a meeting with Washington and lurked in the background, watching as Washington’s eyes got redder and redder, his nose began to run and he couldn’t stop sneezing. The meeting was halted, the camp doctor was called, and by the time the cat had been identified as the culprit and Washington sent his aides to capture it the cat had bounced off every surface available and sent vases, papers, and even a framed painting that had been hanging on the wall to the ground before escaping out of a cracked door.
Ben isn’t sure that any of that, or the rumor of a reward for the cat to be returned to Washington- dead or alive- actually happened but the camaraderie over the hatred of the cat has seemed to boost morale so Ben doesn’t actively discourage the rumor when he hears it.
In fact, he buys into it more every time he finds a dead mouse in his cot.
Tonight makes the fourth one in as many days.
He picks it up by the tail just as Caleb barrels into his tent then turns sharply to make sure the entrance is securely closed behind him.
There is a beat of silence as they stare at each other; Ben holding a dead mouse and Caleb holding his coat tightly around himself.
“Are you running from someone?” Ben breaks the silence first.
“Oh no. Not me.” Caleb ventures further into the tent, around Ben and towards his cot where he begins to undo the buttons on his coat. “My stowaway is, though.” He reaches down and pulls out the orange tabby and rubs its ears causing it to push its head further into Caleb’s palm.
Ben can’t believe it but it’s also the only thing that makes sense. Of course Caleb would befriend the demon cat. He should’ve seen this coming.
He points his free hand toward them. “You know that thing has a bounty on its head.”
“Of course I do.” Caleb says, not bothering to look up at Ben. “Why do you think I had to sneak him in here?”
“Him?”
“Well. I think it’s a him. I don’t think we’re close enough yet that I can just start checking but I’m going to assume he’s a him.”
Ben rolls his eyes. “Well are you close enough to tell your new friend to stop leaving these in my bed.” He holds up the mouse.
“He knows you don’t like him.”
“Nobody likes him. Have you heard what he did to Washington?”
Caleb laughs and pets the cat a little harder.
The cat purrs.
“Where is it even finding these things?”
“He is a hunter. He should be respected.”
Ben turns towards the tents opening to throw it out and by the time he comes back around Caleb is sitting on the edge of his bed, the cat happily on his lap eating what looks to be scraps of pork.
“You’re feeding the thing? You’re never going to get rid of it now.”
“I had to fatten him up. Couldn’t have little Georgie looking weak.”
“Georgie? As in…..George. Named after…”
“That’s right.” Caleb holds the cat up to Ben and Ben leans back to avoid it. “Named after the general himself. Our fearless leader. This cat is a symbol of the whole army. Started out looking like miserable and meek- people probably didn’t think it would live very long but slowly and surely he became confident and quick and now he’s easily able to defeat anyone that wishes to harm him.”
“You know the other rumor is that he’s was sent by the King to destroy our way of life here.”
“A spy.” Caleb brightens. “He’s perfect.”
Ben has to smile. “You better keep an eye on him. If anyone else gets a hold of him it’ll be the last of him.”
“No one else can catch him.”
“If he doesn’t stop leaving dead rodents in my bed I’ll kill him myself.”
“You would never.”
Ben lets it drop because he knows Caleb is right. He can kill the enemy without hesitation but he doesn’t have it in him to kill a semi-innocent animal, let alone one that Caleb obviously adores.
He settles into his desk chair and watches the two of them for a moment. Caleb is relaxed back on the cot with the cat purring happily on his chest.
It’s the calmest Ben has seen Caleb in years and he decides right then that the cat must be protected no matter what.
But Caleb will never catch him calling him George.