By the time they've let you out of the brig, you've slept so much you've actually worn yourself out again. An unfamiliar white cat is the one to escort you back to the first building. Any attempts at conversation are ignore.
It's much more crowded today - there's at least a Clan and a half worth of cats going in and out. The white cat makes you sit still in the corner and wait, so you amuse yourself by looking around and silently making snarky comments in your head.
Nice nose, you think, as your eyes rove through the crowd. How'd you smash it so far up your face? What about you, why are your ears still floppy? And your friend's even worse- are they curled?! What kind of ears curl-
"You've got a heckuva stink-eye, you know that?"
You jolt and look up in alarm. It's the gangly patched tom again. He grins at your surprise.
"Take it easy," he says. "I ain't gunna hurt you."
"Are you here to get me?" you ask, getting your fur back in order.
"Yeah. They got it all situated without you." He glances off behind him. "Weird. Usually they bring you in for questioning and stuff. Well, by 'you' I mean new recruits."
"Maybe I'm not suspicious enough," you say dryly.
"We can ask Blitzkrieg about it once we get to the platoon." He looks back at you. "Which, speak of, we gotta get going. We're on the morning patrol, and we can't be late."
You sigh, stand up, and follow him out. You're getting really tired of being carted around like a mouse.
"Say, I just wanted to tell you," he says once you're out of the building. "I know this is all a real pain in the tush, but you don't have to worry, as long as you're with us. We'll take care of you."
"Yeah?" you say dully.
"Yeah." He grins again. "Blitz takes right fine care of her soldiers. In fact, she always takes the newbies, to whip 'em into shape, and get 'em used to everything. In fact, that's why I'm with her - me and Gabber, anyway. Apparently, we're a real pair of charmers."
You give him a funny look. He laughs.
"Not workin' for you?"
"No, not really." You scowl and look to your right. "This isn't exactly a place to meet friends, I assume."
"It ain't. It sure ain't." You can hear the grin broaden as he speaks. "But let's make the most of it! It's a nice morning, ain't it? Why spend it moping?"
Something about his accent is vaguely familiar. You squint, thinking.
Are you a native here?
Where do you come from?
What's your name?
So what's next?