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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #2100488
A story set in "Anthromorphia" written for "Steev's Anthropomorphic Contest"
Walter Krane lifted his head slowly from his paws and raised his eyes to the heavens. The room was silent, save for the slow, methodical ticking of the old wooden clock adorning the far wall of his office, but outside he could hear them shouting and chanting his name. Two cats stood before him – his secretary Bess and his most trusted advisor, Tyler. They regarded him with a mixture of curiosity, anticipation and concern. Bess’ grey tail flicked languidly from side to side.

“It’s time,” Tyler stated, holding Walter’s staff out to him.

“But, what is the answer?” Walter’s bright green eyes focused on his friend who let go of the golden staff, letting it hang between them in mid air. Tyler was both a mutant and a mage, but his powers wouldn’t help Walter today. He was the mayor and the decision to make was his, yet the repercussions could be detrimental to society – to the society he had worked so hard to build since the Highland War. Should he close the border? Nobody could deny that the dogs were becoming an increasing threat, but the trade with the bears, with whom they had no conflict, was vital to the economy of the town as far as Walter was concerned. His staff glinted at him and he reached out to take it. It fell heavily in to his open paw. Tyler was right; it was time.

Walter opened the doors of his tree-office to a sea of cats – blacks, whites, gingers, tabbys – even the siamese had put in an appearance, standing together in cluster of tall, sleek bodies. As he emerged out on to the balcony a roar went through the crowd which could probably have been heard in Iguana Bay. “Keep the dogs out!” someone shouted and others joined in until the demand became a chant. Walter was not surprised at the cat who stood at the fore of the crowd – Marmaduke Macann – a ginger tom who wore a patch over his scarred eye. Once, they had been friends, in their younger days, but then Walter had become mayor and now Marmaduke was his biggest rival, always at the forefront of some protest or disagreement, and his warrior ranking meant people stood by him.

“Close the border Walter!” He growled out now, “How many more innocent cats have to die? How much blood can you wash your hands of?” The crowd cheered in support of Marmaduke’s words. A young, female tabby pushed her way to the front,

“I’m afraid to let my children play outside, Mr Mayor. We live out by South Port – there’s dogs everywhere!”

“The dogs have no regard for our property and our land!” Cried out a black cat whom Walter recognised as one of the market traders from The Fayre. “They come over drunk and steal our crops, defecate in the fields.”

“They’re hooligans!” Another cat yelled as the chanting started up again.

Walter raised his staff, the sign that it was time for him to speak – and gradually the crowd quietened down.

“Cats of Jungleville, I cannot deny that the dogs are becoming an increasing problem. They are stupid and crass, and they do not respect our cultures and our customs. But the borders work both ways – they allow us freedom to trade with the bears and other inhabitants of the forests, and safe passage to the highlands. We export tonnes of fish to the bears every week, and we depend on the finances we gain from that to maintain our schools and repair our houses and our shipping fleets – and we mustn’t forget that it is useful to have the bears on our side. Back in the battle of –“ Walter suddenly stopped mid-sentence as he watched a shape approaching from the skies. The bird was moving quickly, his huge wings fully extended. It was Simon, Walter realised as the pelican came in to full view. Simon was his confidante from Birdopolis – the two had a bond from their time in the war and he was one of the reasons Walter had become mayor, because of his good relationships with the residents of the Highlands.

“Simon,” Walter addressed his friend both puzzled and concerned as the bird dropped breathless to the balcony.

“Walter, my friend, I come with urgent news. We have word that the dogs are planning an attack – Alfred Woofren and his rebels, they’re planning on moving in on South Port tonight and they want to claim the Northern Jungle territory as their own.”

“But – the bears – “

“The bears have been paid off, they’re turning a blind eye. You must act quickly, my friend.”

Walter brought his staff down hard against the wooden floor. He looked at Marmaduke, “Shut the borders.” He said, and turned back to his office as a cheer rose up through the crowd.

808 words
© Copyright 2016 Jellyfish Merry In Morocco! (jennybowden at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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