[Rose]

Tevildo is asked to continue

The old inn hound raised himself up from the ragged blanket that served as his bed. That is his hindquarters stayed sprawled on the ground while his head and chest rose up. He was half blind, his old eyes cloudy and the drooping ear he’d raised a hind leg to scratch at was notched from any number of skirmishes.

‘Speak up, cat!’ he growled. The muffled voices and smells from the gathering in the little courtyard had intruded on his dozing. At first only waking him fitfully. It was the voice of the cat that woke him fully. Some story the feline was spinning. And what was all that about hounds and men turning bad. He hadn’t caught it all, but he was sure the puffed up, self-important cat was telling lies.

Sneaky critters – butter you up on the one side, rub on you like you were their best friend, and the next their claws and teeth’d be in you.

‘G’wan . . . tell us the rest of your story.’ He gave a wheezy laugh. ‘And I’m just thinking you’re going to be telling us it was you as was asked to help out.’