Power Play - Anne McCaffrey [14]
4
Youngling, you are troubled. The rumble of the clouded snow leopard’s concern brushed soothingly against the painful thoughts and feelings attacking ’Cita’s spirit.
The girl reached up and put her arm around the neck of the great cat, burying her face in fur. “Oh, Coaxtl, I am nothing but troubled. I have been weak and foolish and now my new family, my sister and her mate and my beautiful new aunt, have left me behind, and my kind uncle is so displeased with me he seldom speaks to me anymore. I am indeed unworthy to be included in the activities here, too stupid to help, too needy, too . . .”
Too long dwelling in the false caves of men, Coaxtl said with a cough of disdain. Too long away from the clean cold snow. Come, let us go to the mountains together and chase each other’s tracks and find a rabbit who wants to die. It will be like the old days, before the men brought you here.
Goat-dung wailed and hugged the cat harder. “Oh, poor, poor Coaxtl, I know you have stayed here away from your home just because I am too stupid to look after myself and you are a very kind cat . . .”
Hush that! And stop thinking of yourself as Goat-dung, youngling. The others have given you good names—the name of your dam, Aoifa, and the name of your sire and your litter-mate, which is Rrrrrourrrrke! Coaxtl took great pleasure in roaring the name. Or they call you ’Cita, which is a better name than La Pobrecita, the poor little one or Goat-dung. This one would drop all of those kitten names and simply call one’s self Rrrrrourrrrke!
“I wish I were your kitten, Coaxtl.”
Well, you aren’t, but we can pretend. Come. Though you’ve gained some weight since you’ve been here, still you are not too large for one to carry on one’s back part-way. One smells snow and one wants to rrrroll!
Goat-dung—no, ’Cita—no, the Rrrourrke Youngling climbed onto the back of her friend, and together they bounded away from the river and the town, away from all the bustling people, away from the memories of the terrors of the SpaceBase, and out into the forest with its showers of rust-colored needles and bright golden leaves. Rabbits, squirrels, and birds scattered before them as Coaxtl raced through the red underbrush, her paws crackling on the carpet of old leaves, which sent up a delicious, spicy smell with the cat’s every step.
Before they reached the edge of the forest, Coaxtl suddenly lay down and rolled over. Youngling Rrrourrke tumbled into the leaves and laughed as Coaxtl mock-pounced her, all four paws landing clear of the girl while the furry face gazed into hers.
“Your breath smells like dead meat!” the girl cried.
Yours smells like you’ve lived among men too long! Coaxtl answered. What are you lying there for, lazy youngling? It’s your turn to carry one!
“And how should I do that, crazy cat?” she asked, scrambling out from under the creature’s underbelly, where twigs and leaves dangled from the silky fur. The girl opened her mouth wide and pretended to go for the back of the cat’s neck. “Shall I carry you in my mouth, like a mama cat?”
Don’t be impertinent! Coaxtl said, and bounded off into the brush. Bet you can’t track one!
Goat-dung/Pobrecita/’Cita/Aoifa/Youngling Rrrourrke roared the cat’s name and plunged through the brush after her friend. Every time she paused, bewildered when the cat seemed to be nowhere around, she heard a laughing thought just ahead of her and saw the quiver of a bush or the flash of silver fur which was not awfully good camouflage in the bright-colored forest, and she was on the trail once more.
And then, without warning, she ran out of the forest, onto the edge of the muskeg-humped plain, and there was no Coaxtl, not anywhere.
Hsst, the cat’s voice cautioned. Hide. A man thing comes.
“What? Where? Coaxtl, I can’t find you. Where are you?” she asked, and rustled the brush trying to find sight of the cat. But while her back was turned,