Kender, Gully Dwarves, and Gnomes by Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman

Author:Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman [Weis, Margaret & Hickman, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Dragonlance
ISBN: 9780880383820
Amazon: 0880383828
Goodreads: 362677
Publisher: TSR Inc.
Published: 1987-07-11T21:00:00+00:00

The tabby did look around then, his green eyes alight

with a certain careful curiosity. WITH THE WREN? AND

WHAT BUSINESS MIGHT THAT BE?

The squirrel wasn't sure, and said so. Again he felt

confused and uncomfortable. He remembered thinking the

night before that the wren meant something to him. Now,

though, when he tried to recall what it might be, he could

not. His attempts to remember were as distressing as his

dreams had been.

The cat padded silently across the room and leaped easily

onto the table. When the squirrel scolded and skittered to

the back of his cage, the tabby only yawned and smiled.

EASY, SQUIRREL, EASY. He eyed the squirrel closely,

and this time the squirrel had the impression that he was

not being considered as dinner. After a moment the tabby

twitched his tail and murmured, I THOUGHT - MAYBE -

BUT I SUPPOSE NOT. YOU'RE JUST A SQUIRREL,

AREN'T YOU?

I - I GUESS SO, responded the squirrel, THOUGH

SOMETIMES I DON'T QUITE FEEL LIKE ONE. MAYBE

IT'S JUST THAT I'M TRAPPED IN HERE, AND I HATE

IT. I SHOULD BE GRATEFUL, I SUPPOSE, THAT

THERE ARE BARS BETWEEN YOU AND ME, YOU

BEING AS HUNGRY AS YOU ARE ALL THE TIME - OH!

WELL, I DIDN'T MEAN ANY OFFENSE, OF COURSE -

OF COURSE, the cat murmured.

I DIDN'T REALLY, BUT YOU ARE A CAT AND LAMA

SQUIRREL, AND YOU CATS DO HAVE A TASTE FOR

SQUIRRELS FROM TIME TO TIME AND -

I AM NOT A CAT.

WHAT? WELL, OF COURSE YOU ARE. YOU'RE A

CAT, I CAN ASSURE YOU. AND YOU'D HAVE A HARD

TIME CONVINCING THE MICE YOU TERRORIZE

AROUND HERE THAT YOU AREN'T.

I AM NOT A CAT. The tabby raised his head, and for

the first time the squirrel noticed a small collar of braided

leather clasped loosely around his neck. Do YOU SEE

THAT?

THE COLLAR? VERY NICE.

AYE, the cat sighed, IT IS, AND SO I THOUGHT

WHEN SHE GAVE IT TO ME.

SHE? WHO?

THE WREN.

The wren. The squirrel was beginning to have a

headache. He closed his eyes and burrowed his nose into

his front paws. CAT, I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE

TALKING ABOUT.

NO, LIKE AS NOT YOU DON'T, BEING A SQUIRREL.

AND ONE WHO IS TOO CONFUSED TO WORRY

ABOUT WRENS AND COLLARS.

The tabby purred softly. WHAT CONFUSES YOU,

LITTLE ONE?

DREAMS, the squirrel sighed.

DREAMS . . . The cat cocked his head. DREAMS?

YES, DREAMS. AND SQUIRRELS AREN'T SUPPOSED

TO DREAM. I KNOW THAT. I KNOW THAT BECAUSE

I'M A SQUIRREL. BUT I STILL DREAM.

AND YET, the cat said, YOU WEAR NOTHING.

The squirrel blew his cheeks out indignantly. OF

COURSE NOT, OR NOTHING BUT MY SKIN. AND THAT

ONLY BECAUSE THERE'S A CAGE BETWEEN YOU

AND ME. WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO WEAR?

YOU'D BE WEARING SOMETHING IF YOU WERE

MORE THAN A SQUIRREL. THE WREN WEARS A

GOLDEN CHAIN. I WEAR A COLLAR. IT KEEPS US,

DESPITE YOUR FORM, WHAT WE ARE.

The squirrel's headache was getting worse. I DON'T

UNDERSTAND.

I AM A MAN. MY NAME IS PYTR. THE WREN IS A

WOMAN WHOSE NAME IS, WELL, WREN. Pytr stretched

lazily, then curled up on the table next to the cage. It was a

long tale he had to tell, and he thought he might as well be

comfortable. It had begun to snow again, and the day was

waning.

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