Catgirl System

I have a story rec for you, though it's RoyalRoad-exclusive: trol: runt progreshun. He is a troll. He gets bigger. His grammar not good. He and Taipha would be great friends...or maybe he'd try to eat her.

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I woke up terrified by the hiss of a condor.

Surprisingly, that fear didn’t fling me right out of the quilt and onto the ground. It did, however, get a pretty squeaky yelp out of me.

The audience outside watching my quilt would've seen a sudden lump rise within…before settling, slinking backward in suspicion, and, finally, sticking its cat-head out.

The condor—huge, black-winged, and wrinkly-faced—was sitting on the gloved fist of a totally unfamiliar human, whose dusty boots were set practically in my face. Who was this? Some kind of park ranger, by the looks of it?

But more importantly, why were these two here on Reed's Mountain, in Reed's campsite?

The scene was a lot to take in. What got my immediate attention were the three concerned figures around me. The ranger was looming, and hardly paying me any attention, as if he was leaving that job to the bird. And that bird did not like me.

The ranger was sitting on a stone—a semi-smoothed one, shaped up for the purposes of camping. Across from him was Reed, who was right where she had been in the luminous morning. She was leaning forward, a hand over her chin and lip, forehead creased. Dirty overalls and a faint smell of animal fur betrayed what she'd done last night, but I wondered if the way she’d rolled up the cuffs on her pants and sleeves betrayed a sense of human hospitality.

Then there was the weather, which felt just as melancholy as these three figures: dripping rain from an overcast sky. Of course, the fire had long since gone out.

Reed gave me a look of polite acknowledgement, then told me something I couldn't quite make out before returning to a tense discussion with the ranger. Even though they were both speaking slowly, their voices were low enough—and the light rain interrupted enough—that I had trouble making out more than brief snatches of their talk.

“I'll help you,” I clearly heard Reed say, “but you have to…”

Her gestures made a line between me and the condor. Yeah, I could guess what that meant—and I was glad for it. I preferred not to get eaten today.

The ranger nodded apologetically…very, incredibly slowly. In fact, as he nodded, his whole body began to lean, and so did the condor’s. They were bowing together, looking horribly solemn. Afterward, the ranger stood up and took a seat closer to Reed. I saw a brief tremor in Reed’s shoulders. She was trying not to be nervous, and hopefully the ranger and condor wouldn’t notice that.

…If the ranger was even alive, and not the walking dead.

Okay, so Reed was helping these unknown spooky people. Instinctively I pegged this ranger as a villain, or at least the companion of a villainous bird-pet.

That, I realized with a twitch of frustration, totally destroyed my fantasy of how my meeting with Reed was supposed to go! Why wasn't I getting unrestricted access to this campsite—which would probably have been quite pretty if not for the boots still decidedly obscuring my view? What had Reed been whittling?!

I felt ignored, and a bit sulky, until figures moved and a knuckle appeared before my nose. “Are you alright?” a calm voice whispered.

I thought about it. I was back to full health, though hungry and thirsty. Plus, I had the nice quilt. Physically speaking, I was immaculately comfortable. But mainly I wanted to watch how Reed operated.

I mewed. Reed nodded as if she understood. She walked behind the campsite's sitting-stones to a boxy object obscured by rain and mist. I heard rustling followed by a trickle like tap water.

Reed said, “Did you try to…?”

“Yes, but I was alone, so I couldn't…”

More words followed, then a choke in the ranger's voice. The condor fluttered.

“I see.”

Two bowls were set before me. One had clear, shining water that wriggled under the rain. The other was harder to identify. Some kind of mushy, wheat-smelling puddle with fruits smothered inside. Um…Reed didn't seem like she'd poison me on purpose, but the emphasis there is on the “on purpose.” Once Reed had turned to take a seat, I put a clump into my Inventory.

Food: Muesli
 A combination of milk, oats, fruits, and nuts which is delicious, but only while in nekomata form. Nourishing, but won’t heal HP or SP.

I ejected it just as quickly and stuck out my tongue in disgust. I wasn’t about to transform just to stomach this muesli in the name of politeness.

…M-maybe I would eat it anyway. I started lapping up the mush. Sweetness was never a flavor I liked—it just tasted like rotten meat to me. The sweet fruits combined with the bland connective tissue was just…

Reed took a seat and the discussion continued, filling with words that my Stage 1 comprehension skills couldn’t hold onto. Once I hit that fabled next Evolution, this would all be easier, I hoped. Then maybe I could tell Reed “thank you.”

As I ate my muesli and listened and wondered about all this, the conversation suddenly stopped.

“I wonder if you would be able to help…?” said Reed. She’d turned to me like I knew something vital. So had the ranger.

Confused, I just boggled my eyes at them.

…Wait.

Wait! The dots were connecting in my head!

This guy was looking for something, right? And I had this automatic Mapping feature that showed me where hidden Treasures were. I remembered how it updated the night before. With any luck, it’d be whatever he was looking for! Then this wet blanket and his critical bird would probably leave the mountain!

Oh, and I would have done a good deed for someone, I guess.

I shook myself out of the quilt, stood tall, and meowed as proudly as I could. Yes I could help!

Let's see…

Current Location: Reed's Mountain (S.A1)

According to my Map of the area, the Treasure wasn’t far away, but it seemed to be closer to the peak. (…Wow, who drew these things? Sierra had a bad hand.) Of course, the Map didn't give me any other specifics whatsoever, not even altitude. And what if the ranger and the condor weren’t looking for Treasure at all? In any case, it was a direction.

I started our trip by letting them know, to the best of my ability, where we were going. I briefly got on my hind legs and raised one paw high. We’re going to the mountaintop, I was trying to say.

There was silence.

Looking between everybody’s faces, I got the impression that nobody liked this idea. Also, was it just me, or were the eyes of that ranger twin voids of swirling nothingness?

As if to punctuate it all, a lightning strike boomed far in the distance.

“Well,” Reed said slowly, “at least we all know where that is.

“But the strength could be…” the ranger began, before his words got lost in a mire of length and obscure definitions.

They spent about a minute in their own conversation, rarely glancing at me. But then, with a light shooing motion, Reed had the ranger and the condor move out of the way. The motionless, ominous, ten-gallon-hat-sized specter of a condor ruffled their feathers, apparently in irritation. Too bad.

Reed leaned toward me, to the spot in the quilt that I still hadn’t moved from. She said, drooping, “I’m sorry we…are putting you to work like this. But we can trip…don’t want to, you don’t have to, except…”

Then she shook her head. Annoyed at herself?

The ranger said something about “the beacon” and pointed up to the sky. Maybe to the rain or the thunder. Perfect Human Language couldn’t come soon enough.

Reed didn’t look at the other two. She just stayed turned toward me, kept her face even, and told me, “I trust you. I hope you’ll trust me.”

It’s not that serious, I wanted to say. You scratched my back and now I’m ready to scratch yours.

Was she only saying that to get on my good side after forcing me into what might prove to be a horrible, life-ending fetch quest?

And yet, like her reasons for saving my life, it almost didn't matter to me. Because it was still another first for me: I had never been trusted. I knew that humans cooperated all the time. It seemed like such a hassle, but it filled me with a strange sense of wonder now.

Looking her in the eye brought me back to the night before, and then to the night when she’d seen me in the light of the kitchen and acknowledged me like a fellow, equal being. Reverence from the green-haired girl was one thing, and an upsetting one when I didn’t know what it came from and what it was rooted in, and knew that I hadn’t exactly deserved it.

But this wasn’t reverence. It was kindness and warmth. It wasn’t mannered, and intuition told me that none of it was manufactured.

And what I felt for her was gratitude. That and a guilt that felt like a challenge.

I would get back at her for this. I would just kill her with kindness.

Lightning rumbled again. Hopefully a bolt of it would come down speeding for Reed so that I could dive in the way and protect her.

“Would you like to lead the way?”

I meowed and nodded. Wouldn't Reed have known the way to the top better than me? Well, maybe not. Humans on Earth tended to have very selective, very poor knowledge of the landscapes they lived and camped in. Yet I had higher expectations for Vencian Reed. Were those misplaced? Was I exaggerating her prowess after she had saved my life?

That idea didn’t hold water considering all the slagging and dragging I put Sierra through.

Anyway, this was a good spot to be in. I felt way more comfortable as a leader than as a follower. Being a housepet or a mere companion didn't sit right with me. Neither did letting Reed do me favors without me returning the favor in kind.

Plus, I got the impression that Vencian people were, at least, pleasantly okay with the idea of intelligent, magic-manipulating, language-comprehending-sometimes animals. And they had different ideas of respect—which I was starting to like a lot more than Earth's “anything goes.”

Little by little, the rain had intensified. It hadn't gone beyond a drizzle, but by the look of the hay-colored clouds slowly churning above us, this was a taste of the downpour to come. Before I could wonder about the state of the quilt, Reed kneeled next to me again and said, “Can you make it fast?”

“Mreaow!” I shouted. Yes! I'd certainly try. Predictably, I hated rain and believed that water belonged nowhere but my mouth-innards.

Quest: Solve a Mystery—The Ranger and the Condor on Reed’s Mountain
Progress: 0%

Sierra decided to give me a formal mission from the shadows. Instead of screaming my mind's ear off, for once. This I could deal with.