Username: ArithMedic
Cat Name: Weasel Blade
Gender: She-cat
Rank: Mercenary
Clan: The Bronze Fleet Age: 89 moons
Prompt: Birth
Weasel Blade was a hired mercenary aboard the Singing Queen during what was otherwise an ordinary docking, until a local she-cat paid for an urgent trip to "anywhere else". The she-cat was a Mist Seeker and explained that she was being chased out by her ex-lover. Weasel did not interact much with her, but Mist Seeker was adamant about helping around the ship despite the fact that she had paid enough for the entire crew's salaries for four months. Weasel watched as Mist learned to cook in the kitchens during storms, 'learned the ropes' of the rigging from some of the sailors on nice days, and helped re-draw the navigator's maps after some blew away in a bad wind. Apparently, that was her trade before she'd fled.
It soon became apparent, however, that Mist was pregnant. Mist apologized profusely for hiding it even though none of the crew blamed her for it. As she grew heavy, the crew reduced the number of tasks they allowed her to help with, Weasel herself even kept a closer eye out for danger around Mist, and the captain made arrangements to dock at a town with reputable healers so one could be brought aboard for the birth. However, plans at sea often fail.
A great storm came through, so bad that the Sailing Queen was forced to drop anchor where it was. Everyone was brought into the cabins to hide from the pounding wind and rain and the sailors were already prepping for the repairs that would be required once the storm subsided. Mist had clearly never been through such a storm at sea and later a healer would say that the stress caused the birth to be premature. As Mist entered labor, it ended up being Weasel's task to step in as midwife, calling on what little she remembered learning from her mother who'd been one. It was an unpleasant affair, trying to keep Mist calm and making sure the birth went correctly, but at the end of it, Weasel was cleaning off and handing to their mother three lovely kittens.
Mist cried over her kittens, obviously from pain and happiness, but Weasel thought she detected sadness in there too. Weasel wondered if Mist was thinking of their father, presumably the tom who chased her out of her home town, although Mist rarely spoke of much from her home besides her family.
Weasel helped Mist and the kittens get settled, and shortly after the storm lightened and disappeared, as if it had come through for that purpose and was leaving now that its job was done.
Weasel, when she was off of guard duty, helped Mist take care of her kittens, feeling a unique bond to the kittens she helped guide into the world. Mist named them Golden, Silver, and Copper, hoping that being named after precious metals would make sure they were always treasured and valued by those around them.
[488 words]
Life
Weasel Blade was heading to a tavern with the rest of the crew from the Singing Queen because they'd had to dock for repairs when they ran into an injured ferret, which tried to take an aggressive stance to ward them off but it couldn't do more than stand before it collapsed. The others joked that Weasel should take care of it because she was a relation- one more joke about her name and they would find their pillows to be little more than scraps of fabric and stuffing, in an affectionate way of course- and also more seriously one of the crew members added that she is the best with angry critters. She tried to point out that handling a kitten with an attitude and taming a snake one time did not make her "good with angry critters" but eventually she was convinced to take care of it.
Weasel nursed the ferret back to health over the course of the time the ship was being repaired. Once it was capable of walking around, even though it was slowly and with a slight limp, she discovered just how much mischief one ferret could cause. She temporarily named him Troublemaker. He managed to steal and hide all of her metal gear, as well as all of her money. Every morning was a hunt for all of her things. He also ruined most of the food she'd bought and she could not find anywhere to hide it that he couldn't figure his way into. As he got healthier, his antics got worse. The worst of all was when he managed to set the house she was renting on fire. ON FIRE! She didn't have any candles lit, or even any fire lighting implements. It was utter incomprehensible how he managed to do it. She had to pay for the property damages and find a new place to stay until the ship was ready.
She grew attached to the ferret over her time nursing it, even if it made her furious at times, but in the end it was still a wild animal. It would never entirely domesticate and she couldn't force it to live a life trapped on a boat. Honestly, she wasn't sure the others would let her bring it back to the ship anyways, for safety reasons. When the ship was finally fully repaired, Troublemaker has been fully healed for a while. Weasel didn't cry while she was releasing him, but it was a close thing. She probably would have if he hadn't scratched and torn up her bed the previous day and made her sleep on a bare wooden bed frame that night.
"Farewell, you nasty little Troublemaker," she whispered as a fluffy tail whisked firmly out of view.
[460 words]
Death
Weasel Blade had a lover back in her home town. She was often away on her trips as a mercenary, saving up to eventually settle down with him. They'd send letters back and forth during her stays at various seaside towns for ship repairs or resupplying, or to look for more work. They'd done this for a long time and Weasel always let him know the next town she'd be at and when she expected to be there. They both kept notebooks of everything they'd tell the other in the next letter.
It was clear something was wrong when she was at the expected town on time, and not a single letter arrived during the month long stay.
She took leave from the fleet and arranged for transport back to her hometown. After a two week journey at sea, she arrived and rushed to her lover's home as fast as her feet could carry her. Her key didn't work so she knocked and knocked until someone answered. It was an unfamiliar she-cat who expressed a sincere apology for the confusion, but the previous occupant no longer lived there.
She raced around the town, becoming more and more anxious and exhausted. Two legs could only run so much, even with the supports the engineers in the fleet had made for her. Finally, she found a mutual friend who told her that he'd been taken to the local hospital weeks ago and hadn't been released. They let her stay with them for the night so she could rest, and the next morning she headed out again.
Weasel started her trek to the hospital before the sun had even risen. She made it to the lobby several hours later, and asked for her lover's room number. They tried to keep her out because she wasn't family, but she fought back that she was the only family he had left and if they wouldn't let her through, they'd get scars to match hers. They finally let her go to him, but she could tell there was something they weren't saying.
She checked the map posted in the hallway to see where his room was, and her heart sunk when she read it.
'Rooms 230-260 | Hospice Ward'
She denied it, even muttering out loud, "they must've run out of room elsewhere."
Making her way to his room, her feet felt like lead and the hallway seemed to go on forever, until suddenly she stood in front of the door. Gathering her courage, she pushed the door open to a clean room that smelled of medicinal herbs. A strange tube and bag contraption was hooked to his arm, something she recalled him calling an 'IV' last time they were here, when his parents passed away.
She walked up to him, shaking him and calling out his name to wake him up. "Robin Wing! Robin Wing,
please!"
A healer walking by came in an pulled her away.
"He won't wake up. He's in a coma and barely even alive. We're maintaining him as best we can, but he'll probably pass within the next few days. I don't know how you know him, but you arrived just in time to say your goodbyes." The healer left, seeming impervious the the despair they left behind but more likely used to it.
Weasel cried over Robin's still form until tears no longer formed, and she heaved dry sobs for a long time after. She fell into a stressful sleep in that spot and the healers generously chose not to wake her even after visitor hours ended.
She spent the next several days reading him her notebook and confessing every feeling to Robin, in the hopes he could still hear her, in a way that she hadn't since they were young teens tripping over themselves in love.
Robin lasted one day longer than the healer had said, giving Weasel an unfair hope, before he died. Weasel and their childhood friends held a quiet funeral for him and mourned for weeks.
Weasel rejoined the fleet much more somber than she'd left and never quite returned to the cat she was before. For a long time the only cats that could make her smile were Golden, Silver, and Copper, who treated her like a second mother and she returned all of their affection like her life depended on it. Maybe, for a time, it did.
[732 words]
