OMG. Rolling on the floor. You have written me comment fic! I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy! And, rather cooking dinner I just did the following, which I admit, is not as clever as your awesome piece.
"If you eat all the Otters, Friend, there will be none to chase."
Jalur yawned and stretched himself out, snagging two long claws on Mrs. Furner's carefully mended rugs. "A fair point. I shall leave two mating pairs alive."
"First thing we do is kill all the Otters," Morgan babbled. A frown creased her face and Edmund watched warily for with her distraction would come ... something. Sure enough, she reached for a piece of scrap parchment to begin her census organizational flow chart and nearly upended the inkwell all over the floor. Heedless, she continued. "Or is it lawyers? First thing we do is kill all the lawyers?"
"Not Bankers?" he asked.
"Bankers bury the lawyers."
Edmund thought that sounded ominous.
"Your classification point is a concern, Harold," Morgan mused. She was patting her hair down, looking for the writing quill that had lodged there. "For instance, how would we classify Cheetahs?"
"They are all Felines," Edmund said, plucking the quill out from behind her head and handing it to her.
A low growl, both from woman and Tiger indicated he had erred and send something impolite.
"What?"
"I am a Great Cat," Jalur said smugly. "Lions are Great Cats. I concede that Leopards, small though they are, are Great Cats. Cheetahs are not."
Morgan nodded earnestly. "Cheetahs are very distinct, Harold. Really, you should know this. They have semi-retractable claws and they purr, and do not roar."
"You have been in the Physician's Library again, haven't you?"
"He is brilliant!" Morgan spoke this with a fervent and passionate enthusiasm he really preferred directed at his person, intellect and contracting draftsmanship skills. In this though, Edmund did not feel envy, as the object of her admiration -- the Palace Physician -- was a rodent and a very prickly one at that.
"We have spent a considerable time in his office," Jina the Hound added from her corner. She was licking her paw, not something the Hound normally did in polite company.
"Are you healing well from your close encounter with our good Physician, Jina?" Edmund asked the Hound. She was too well-mannered to complain of the injury for her own part.
"Very well, thank you, King Edmund." She looked up. "Lady Morgan?"
The Hound repeated the query several times, but Morgan was engrossed in her spreadsheet. With a sigh the Hound climbed to her feet and shoved her nose under Morgan's arm. Edmund hid the smirk.
"Oh, yes Jina?"
"To your point about Cheetahs? Regardless of the Physician's views, the High King and his Guard will take ill to any suggestion that Cheetahs are not Great Cats."
"Oh." She waved her arm in his general direction, splattering ink. "Politics. That's your expertise, Harold."
Edmund slammed a hand down on the table. "I am not going to suggest to my brother that his Guard do not qualify as Great Cats."
Morgan looked up, eyes gleaming with seductive challenge. "Do you mean you won't, ever, or do you mean you will only do so with proper inducement?"
no subject
"If you eat all the Otters, Friend, there will be none to chase."
Jalur yawned and stretched himself out, snagging two long claws on Mrs. Furner's carefully mended rugs. "A fair point. I shall leave two mating pairs alive."
"First thing we do is kill all the Otters," Morgan babbled. A frown creased her face and Edmund watched warily for with her distraction would come ... something. Sure enough, she reached for a piece of scrap parchment to begin her census organizational flow chart and nearly upended the inkwell all over the floor. Heedless, she continued. "Or is it lawyers? First thing we do is kill all the lawyers?"
"Not Bankers?" he asked.
"Bankers bury the lawyers."
Edmund thought that sounded ominous.
"Your classification point is a concern, Harold," Morgan mused. She was patting her hair down, looking for the writing quill that had lodged there. "For instance, how would we classify Cheetahs?"
"They are all Felines," Edmund said, plucking the quill out from behind her head and handing it to her.
A low growl, both from woman and Tiger indicated he had erred and send something impolite.
"What?"
"I am a Great Cat," Jalur said smugly. "Lions are Great Cats. I concede that Leopards, small though they are, are Great Cats. Cheetahs are not."
Morgan nodded earnestly. "Cheetahs are very distinct, Harold. Really, you should know this. They have semi-retractable claws and they purr, and do not roar."
"You have been in the Physician's Library again, haven't you?"
"He is brilliant!" Morgan spoke this with a fervent and passionate enthusiasm he really preferred directed at his person, intellect and contracting draftsmanship skills. In this though, Edmund did not feel envy, as the object of her admiration -- the Palace Physician -- was a rodent and a very prickly one at that.
"We have spent a considerable time in his office," Jina the Hound added from her corner. She was licking her paw, not something the Hound normally did in polite company.
"Are you healing well from your close encounter with our good Physician, Jina?" Edmund asked the Hound. She was too well-mannered to complain of the injury for her own part.
"Very well, thank you, King Edmund." She looked up. "Lady Morgan?"
The Hound repeated the query several times, but Morgan was engrossed in her spreadsheet. With a sigh the Hound climbed to her feet and shoved her nose under Morgan's arm. Edmund hid the smirk.
"Oh, yes Jina?"
"To your point about Cheetahs? Regardless of the Physician's views, the High King and his Guard will take ill to any suggestion that Cheetahs are not Great Cats."
"Oh." She waved her arm in his general direction, splattering ink. "Politics. That's your expertise, Harold."
Edmund slammed a hand down on the table. "I am not going to suggest to my brother that his Guard do not qualify as Great Cats."
Morgan looked up, eyes gleaming with seductive challenge. "Do you mean you won't, ever, or do you mean you will only do so with proper inducement?"