Random rat tat

[annwfyn.livejournal.com]

Shrieking a variety of obscenities and curses, the small rat-thing was hurled through the air. From behind her floated a voice "now don't come back. Barging into our Freehold...attacking people..."

Rickets didn't really listen. Being thrown out of places wasn't exactly unusual. She vaguely added the Freehold of the Stalwart Guard to the remarkably long list of organisations, institutions and individuals who she would one day wreak a terrible revenge on, but for the moment that wasn't really her priority. Right now, she had something totally different to focus on.

Scrofula was alive!

The stupid stupid rat thing, who's presence had constantly hampered her genius plans, was alive! The idiot creature who had gotten them both trapped in the refuse pipe by eating too much and getting himself stuck. The vile and treacherous little monster who had woken Rickets by trying to quietly cannibalise her leg whilst they were stuck in the desert. The useless, incompetent beast who's presence had been a perpetual source of irritation to Rickets for years (maybe? Probably!) in the confines of that cage.

Scrofula was alive!

He had not been killed, eaten, kidnapped, or sold into slavery in her absence.

She had never been quite so relieved in her life.

Rickets picked herself up from the ground, and licked a paw to smooth some of the hair on her left ear back into place. Today, she decided, had really gone quite well. She would probably need to move on, before they unleashed the hounds on her (for Rickets always assumed there were hounds). And then tomorrow, she'd start her new Scrof tracking plan.

She chittered to herself as she began to trot off into the Hedge. Why had she not cooked and eaten him in the desert? She hoped no one asked her that question.

"Stupid stupid rat creature," she chanted happily to herself as she wandered away.