Pilot Prologue
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Within the confines of Cone and Faust's woven nest.
In the larger confines of the Arrowroot Road Dowt.
Vinegar returned and laid a well caught hare onto the
rough edged center stone.
Ready to be skinned, and prepared.
"You didn't have to go out of your way, but thank you Vinegar."
" I needed to take my claws out on something.
I've been working like an adult for
months and those old cats still don't trust me."
"Hunting out of spite, may have something to do with it."
Cone chided him, with some amusement.
Only earning a derisive snort from Vinegar.
"Dinner's still caught isn't it. Besides, they'd hold Basil and Badger
over my head even if I was sweet.
No one's more angry about their decision than I am, they're no better than rabbits,
frolicking and breeding with half a mind."
Silence hung. Faust was prompted to grow from his rest,
as Cone often faltered at Vinegar's moods.
"Come now dear, you know how they are. It's harmless chatter and nothing more"
"They call me the trouble, their trouble even."
Cone stood to his paws, as Faust circled the young cat to offer him comfort.
"...I can talk to Our cross, he's a level headed cat, traditional. I'm sure he'll appreciate the work you're putting in to contribute."
A notable puff rippled across Vinegar's shoulders. And ran all the way through his thin black tail.
"Y-You don't need to. They'll think I'm being coddled"
"Our cross putting out a good word for you will do the opposite, they'll have to see you differently."
Cone hesitated a moment, before licking Vinegar's forehead.
"....... I'll be back soon."
He sees Cone talk to Crossroads, who seems amused at being stopped by a lesser cat.
That cat, is as big as the pine trees. He could eat anyone alive.
Vinegar stiffens when The Cross's keen eye meets his across the distance of the Dowt.
swallowing embarrassment
the food he provided at his feet, Vinegar begins to slowly skin
it for dinner preparation.
"You have gentle paws, for someone who works when they're angry.
Taking shifts for the egg toll seems like work you're made for."
Faust soothes. And Vinegar nods absentmindedly, unable to tear his gaze away from what was happening.
"Yeah."
Vinegar resists the urge to collapse inside the large
nest of the family. Compared to Cone & Faust's nest
it was a dream of woven roots, smooth stone and
feathering.
"Oh."
He placed a peppered Mourning dove on a neat
stone ledge. Held himself high to regard his Cone's
relatives.
"Cone asked me, since I've been working for
a while."
"Do I know you?"
"You do ma, you remember. Our Cone and Faust
adopted him after... you know"
The older cat gasped softly.
"Oh Basil and Badger's son, of course. I see it now..."
The two seemed enwrapped in a social code Vinegar
was never privy to. Till finally the mother broke
away and looked at him with half lidded eyes.
"Well, tell Cone we said thank you. Him and Faust
were always dedicated hunters."
"Like I said, I actually caught this. I've been working
too."
"Hm."
Though the nest warmed with the musings of the
older cat, humming names to herself as reminders.
Vinegar felt his usual assumptions of the Arrowroot
Road cats was about to be rended correct once
more. Her tail curled in a dismissive arch as she
looked away from him.
"Family feeds family, and your family is out there.
I'd suggest keeping to yourself, don't take either of
my sons kindness for granted by pushing out of your
place."
Vinegar bit his tongue. Unable to do anything but duck his head and leave before his displeasure showed.
Suddenly.
He is faced with Crossroads.
Who towers over him. Vinegar's body crawls with
the feeling The Cross had been watching.
"What a curious youth you are"
He began.
"You must truly understand the values of
community, even one that doesn't want you,
when you're the sound of several complaints in my ear."
Displeasure now showing on him like a wound.
Vinegar straightened himself and looked the forest
of a cat directly in his eyes.
"I only want to contribute like any other cat here.
Basil and Badger's cowardice isn't mine."
"Is that so?"
"That is so."
Crossroad's imposing posture relaxed, his long tail
wound through the air, and he tutted.
"Alright then. I'll let you join the shifts for the egg
toll. I understand you've had some sideline
experience with the process. I'll trust you to
complete it on your own."
Almost knocked off his feet with relief, Vinegar
nodded deeply.
"I won't take it lightly."
"You shouldn't."
Crossroad's smiles, and with that, takes his leave.
Robin season. The toll for living in the Arrowroot
Dowt was as follows. 2 eggs per season, per
individual cat. The toll would climb to total 8 eggs for
a life in a year. Excommunication was the only
outcome for those who failed to pay. Chatter,
chatter and so on.
Vinegar already knew.
The senior's sons were beginning their tolls today,
at his behest Vinegar was made to join their
introductory.
The senior reminded him of a birch tree.
Vinegar began to clean his claws with a nasty
crackle.
Robins were held in high regard to the Arrowroot
Road cats. And much less regard to human
residents, elders thank the swollen population for
the Dowt's safety. After all, the tolls had a sideline
benefit of a balanced culling, making the cats
integral. Humans wouldn't be able to explain the
phenomena well, neither would most Arrowroot cats.
Vinegar understood it as a cultivation of magic, like
forcing a root to grow into a pleasant shape.
He could see Crossroad's gnarled claws trimming and
binding, and wrapping, the stalk of a fruitful plant till
it's dependent on the interaction. Tending where the
first leader, Robin call's claws had left. Our robin
laid to rest.
He fluffed up his thin fur, drowsy and bored.
And closed his eyes to the lecture.
"Above your quota again."
Vinegar flicked his ear at The senior, gently setting
another egg to bed. In small wickers lined with
feather. Each one denoting a family nest.
"Faust and Cone handle the food now. I handle the
eggs. Faust says I've got a gentler touch than he
does, something about getting old."
The other cat nodded curtly, and stared right
through him. Vinegar felt the need to continue.
"Really it's only a skill. Maybe I could show some of
you my technique."
A 'no' was curtly tossed his way. Wood and Splinter
snicker at him, before bouncing away with their
father. Vinegar's ears pin back in fury, and his claws
knot into the soil.
He stares directly ahead, The senior and his family
share a passing word with The Cross. When the
imposing cat caught his eye, Vinegar quickly
looked away.
"Strange isn't it. How you could be such a competent
young worker and yet such a disturbance to your
fellow cats. Like a foul, lingering scent."
The Cross's words. Vinegar says nothing.
The larger cat seemed to muse on it.
"From now on you will be paying the toll of your
excommunicated parents, their blood is yours after
all, these are the conditions the community asked to
be set. You may continue to provide for Cone and
Faust but I'd warn you it won't win you any favor
with the others."
Vinegar could barely choke out a protest. Before
The Cross had brought his large head in close to his.
"And another thing....Temper that rage. If you're
spoiling, I might just need to throw you out."