Post by Gilgamesh on Sept 5, 2011 17:40:43 GMT -5
[] cuz lurker wanted it cuz it homework lololol []
Hungry Cat
In the land of summer, people live freely and flightily. Bountiful harvests for rich banquets. Gallant knights in shining armor wooing fair ladies with hairs of gold and saintly virtues. Rich lords sitting in opulent halls, bedecked in gold and silver and jewels aplenty. It is a free land, a land where men could do anything they wanted. Anything they wanted, so long as they had the right friends and the right kind of money. Without money, a man could find that summer all too easily turned to winter.
But it was the land of the free. Free to make their own mistakes. Their own deals.
Now. Once upon a time, there was a farmer who died, leaving his farm to his eldest son, his donkey to his middle son, and his cat to his youngest.
The first son took the farm and lived off the fat of the land. The second son took the donkey and went off to seek adventure. The last son, however, could do nothing with his mangy rat of a cat. It was a small one, with patchy red fur and yellow, jaundiced eyes. One day, the boy groused about the uselessness of his inheritance. Then the next. Until, the cat, tired of it all, crawled up to the boy. Ears sharply pricked up, it prostrated itself before the boy, mewling “Oh, Master, you think me worth less than a run down farm, a half-starved ass? I can prove you wrong. I can get you anything you want. All I need is food. I'm Hungry.”
So the boy fed the cat a bowl of warm milk and let him out on his way. As he prowled away, he leered back. “Do not fear, do not worry. I will raise you to a king.”
The cat rushed to the castle grounds, mewling piteously until the King's daughter took pity, and adopted him. There, he told the princess a hundred and one stories of brave young men slaying dragons, farmers' sons, men of rugged brown hair and mud-brown eyes. The days went on and the cat continued weaving story after story for the royal court, especially the princess. The cat regaled the princess with more tales, this time of the Marquis of Carabas. “Who is the Marquis of Carabas?”
“He is a noble man. He was a mere farmer's child until he has slain an ogre and taken his lands. He is rich and just. Brown hair and mud-brown eyes. Handsome and brave. Come to his castle in a week, and you may meet him.”
The princess agreed, and so the cat rushed back to the farmer's son and told him his plan. “But I cannot kill an ogre!” The boy protested. “I am not strong or rich or noble!”
“Faith,” the cat purred. “Follow me, and I will make you seem so.” He rushed through the farmlands to an ogre's castle. Along the way, he demanded of the farmers, “If anyone asks, tell them that you and these lands belong to the Marquis of Carabas.” The cat felt awfully hungry, and did not brook any arguments.
When he entered the ogre's hall, the cat prostrated himself. “Hail, great shapeshifter.”
“What do you want?” The ogre rebuffed him rudely.
“I have heard it said that you can change your shape to lions and lambs, dragons and tigers.”
“That I can.”
“But I doubt, for all your power, that you can transform into a mouse.”
True to the cat's expectations, the arrogant ogre did so to prove him wrong. With a pounce, his claws caught the wee little mouse, and he smiled. “I'm hungry.”
In one fell swoop, the boy found himself the true Marquis of Carabas. By the time the princess, the queen, and the king arrived, they were dazzled by his riches and generosity, and more importantly, the Marquis' elegance. The king asked, “My dear Marquis, you're a fine, handsome, young man, you have a great deal of land and a magnificent castle. Tell me, are you married?”
“No,” the young man answered, “but I would like to find a wife.” He looked at the Princess as he spoke. She in turn smiled at him. And so the Marquis became a prince.
But the cat was not yet done.
One night, when the king and queen retreated to their bedchambers, they found the cat lying on their bed. He smiled and purred. “I'm hungry.”
Then prince became a king. But he was not a true king; only a mere farmer's son, and his kingdom suffered for it. Try as he would, the boy could do nothing. He could do nothing as his people starved, bandits cropped up all over the land, as his hair turned white.
Then, one night, the old boy sat in his favorite chair by his favorite fireplace, when his cat wormed its way under his hand.
“My king. I'm hungry.”
Hungry Cat
In the land of summer, people live freely and flightily. Bountiful harvests for rich banquets. Gallant knights in shining armor wooing fair ladies with hairs of gold and saintly virtues. Rich lords sitting in opulent halls, bedecked in gold and silver and jewels aplenty. It is a free land, a land where men could do anything they wanted. Anything they wanted, so long as they had the right friends and the right kind of money. Without money, a man could find that summer all too easily turned to winter.
But it was the land of the free. Free to make their own mistakes. Their own deals.
Now. Once upon a time, there was a farmer who died, leaving his farm to his eldest son, his donkey to his middle son, and his cat to his youngest.
The first son took the farm and lived off the fat of the land. The second son took the donkey and went off to seek adventure. The last son, however, could do nothing with his mangy rat of a cat. It was a small one, with patchy red fur and yellow, jaundiced eyes. One day, the boy groused about the uselessness of his inheritance. Then the next. Until, the cat, tired of it all, crawled up to the boy. Ears sharply pricked up, it prostrated itself before the boy, mewling “Oh, Master, you think me worth less than a run down farm, a half-starved ass? I can prove you wrong. I can get you anything you want. All I need is food. I'm Hungry.”
So the boy fed the cat a bowl of warm milk and let him out on his way. As he prowled away, he leered back. “Do not fear, do not worry. I will raise you to a king.”
The cat rushed to the castle grounds, mewling piteously until the King's daughter took pity, and adopted him. There, he told the princess a hundred and one stories of brave young men slaying dragons, farmers' sons, men of rugged brown hair and mud-brown eyes. The days went on and the cat continued weaving story after story for the royal court, especially the princess. The cat regaled the princess with more tales, this time of the Marquis of Carabas. “Who is the Marquis of Carabas?”
“He is a noble man. He was a mere farmer's child until he has slain an ogre and taken his lands. He is rich and just. Brown hair and mud-brown eyes. Handsome and brave. Come to his castle in a week, and you may meet him.”
The princess agreed, and so the cat rushed back to the farmer's son and told him his plan. “But I cannot kill an ogre!” The boy protested. “I am not strong or rich or noble!”
“Faith,” the cat purred. “Follow me, and I will make you seem so.” He rushed through the farmlands to an ogre's castle. Along the way, he demanded of the farmers, “If anyone asks, tell them that you and these lands belong to the Marquis of Carabas.” The cat felt awfully hungry, and did not brook any arguments.
When he entered the ogre's hall, the cat prostrated himself. “Hail, great shapeshifter.”
“What do you want?” The ogre rebuffed him rudely.
“I have heard it said that you can change your shape to lions and lambs, dragons and tigers.”
“That I can.”
“But I doubt, for all your power, that you can transform into a mouse.”
True to the cat's expectations, the arrogant ogre did so to prove him wrong. With a pounce, his claws caught the wee little mouse, and he smiled. “I'm hungry.”
In one fell swoop, the boy found himself the true Marquis of Carabas. By the time the princess, the queen, and the king arrived, they were dazzled by his riches and generosity, and more importantly, the Marquis' elegance. The king asked, “My dear Marquis, you're a fine, handsome, young man, you have a great deal of land and a magnificent castle. Tell me, are you married?”
“No,” the young man answered, “but I would like to find a wife.” He looked at the Princess as he spoke. She in turn smiled at him. And so the Marquis became a prince.
But the cat was not yet done.
One night, when the king and queen retreated to their bedchambers, they found the cat lying on their bed. He smiled and purred. “I'm hungry.”
Then prince became a king. But he was not a true king; only a mere farmer's son, and his kingdom suffered for it. Try as he would, the boy could do nothing. He could do nothing as his people starved, bandits cropped up all over the land, as his hair turned white.
Then, one night, the old boy sat in his favorite chair by his favorite fireplace, when his cat wormed its way under his hand.
“My king. I'm hungry.”
