Kira licked her delicate shell pink paw and ran it over her face, her long white whiskers twitching. Her silver tabby fur glittered in the sunlight that beat down on the brick walls of Dirtwater ridge. Summer was here at last, took it long enough. Winter in Dirtwater ridge wasn't any picnic. The town supplied water for the rest of the districts, and Kira didn't enjoy seeing the poor workers plunge through the snow with their buckets and chisels. But now Summer was here. It was a leisurely activity. Making their way across beautifle little fields in bloom, in the shade of the oak trees, coming down to the stream where you could see the little blue stones and minnow leap and splash, and filling their little wooden buckets with water. Then they bring it back to the tube and splash it down.
Nobody knew where it went. Besides, she didn't even know if that was true. Rigby had told her. Rigby was a drooly dopey old spaniel who was constantly tripping over his own ears. In summer the villagers caught fish a' plenty and Rigby soon looked like a beach ball. Kira herself was getting a little podgy. She was a favourite among the villigars and was ever so well fead. Some of the workers, who earned the most silver Kandons gave her fried fish. Mmmmm. Kira licked her lips appreciably, rolling onto her back so she could feel the sun on her fluffy pale grey belly fur.
An elk raised its head from delicately nibbling at the grass. The place was usually filled with wildlife when the weather was good. Elk and Stag, often foxes and once or twice a big black bear with large hooked claws and small black eyes. They all came here to drink from the stream under the bridge. Oh the old bridge. That's what the villagers called it. She often dreamily lay in a pool of sunlight listening to the sweet little young dance around excitedly when their keepers told them they're way would lead them across the old bridge.
That bridge was built by a good ruler, sir Richardson Bramblry, a fine, fine ruler. And hundreds of years later its still there, every new generation leaves a hand print on it in water. It normally quickly evaporates but its deeper than that. Hundreds of people have showed there everlasting respect and loyalty to Dirtwater ridge by the old stone bridge.
The animals come from the woods to drink. Or the fields there comes rabbits and hares with beautifle white tipped ears. "They look beautifle delicious" Kira had said on one early spring. Her friend Purl had twitched her whiskers in indignation and pointed her little black nose in the air.
"Their a favourite among the young, don't you go upsetting them Kira, besides you do get your fair share of fish if I must say" Purl was a dainty looking white she cat with green eyes that reminded you of stormy sea's. She had a small necklace of creamy purls strung around her neck, and it made her look particularly fine. But Purl was a fighter. And looked far weaker than she was.
Kira noticed a faint shadow trotting towards the wall on which she was reclining. It was indeed Purl, with her little sister Marko, a little grey and white patched kit with large white whiskers too big for her face, which still carried kitten fluff.
Kira rolled over onto her side a little bashfully. "Top of the morning to you Purl, and to you young Marko"
Marko grinned from ear to ear and her little tail swished over the bricks bringing up clouds of dust. Purl twitched her whiskers. "Not to the season to be embarrassed hmm Kira"
Kira's eyes lit a little in amusement. "Certainly not my good friend, certainly not"
Purl shook her head, her pearl necklace making little poofing sounds as it hid her chest fur, and Marko grinned and placed a pale grey paw over her mouth.
"Anyway, I didn't come her to idly waste my days in the sun, care to share a cod, its battered by the finest fish monger in Dirtwater ridge" She said, purring at the end. Tradition stated that friends and kin alike to share food and as so become closer together.
As the three sat down together and began to nibble at the battered cod, their eyes wide with relish, a black tome cat strutted over to them, his tail erect and ears pricked.
"Ah, Rosco, should I see to him Purl?" asked Marko between chews.
"Marko don't talk with your mouth full. But its quite all right I'll deal with feral mongrels like Rosco" Purl said, raising a paw to her chest, an old quirk she had when she gave orders.
"What does that meen Kira?" Marko mewed, looking up at her.
Kira looked left and right as of she were to give away a big secret and learnt forward. "You seem to know that fiendish devil of a tom cat, Rosco you call him"
Marko nodded earnestly, her eyes wide.
"That I tell you is cat looking for a mate. Us Dirt Water cats, we're cleaner and we do things right, that is a cat from a different district entirely" Kira finished with a flourish, her fur fluffed out in an all manor of directions.
Marko gazed at Rosco with open admiration. Purl was definitely giving him a good seeing to.
"A cat from a different district? Which one" she breathed.
"Ah" said Kira, a smile sewing itself upon her muzzle. " Probably the Blemthon district, famous for making clothes using a more than fair portion of riches, that's the district closets to us"
Marko took the information in, her tail lifted up in silent gratitude.
"Is Dirt Water ridge a district?"
Normally Purl would be here to tell her to mind her place and be respectful, but the creamy white she cat was still hammering into the feral black tom Rosco. Kira waved her tail to bet away the butterflies.
"No Marko darling, we are a minor district, we are here to get the other districts clean water and for that we get many a silver Kandon"
Marko nodded slightly, not quite deciding if she was dipping her head or not.
The two glanced at Purl.
"For the last time you filthy rouge, we wan't none of you kind here! Go badger another district and leave your sin filled paw prints somewhere else!"
Kira raised her eye brows and Marko's jaw dropped.
A fish leapt out of the water and comically splashed Rosco as he scampered away.
"Sin filled paw prints indeed Purl" Kira said, smiling as she took another bitefull of cod.
Purl briskly trotted over and started grooming her paw. "Stop staring Marko you look gormless" she snapped after a few seconds.
Kira smiled and shook dust from her fur.
It was noon, great, her favourite time of day. She could have dozed then and their. Dragonflies were skimming the water and flittering among the reeds, and workers and villagers went back to their houses, taking their young with them. One of the female young pointed to Marko going- "Mama look its a kitten can we take it home and it be my kitten?"
Its keeper just shook her head and told her not to be so silly and as they went out the girl called-"Here kitty, you want to be mine, come on, follow..."
Marko looked baffled. Kira hid her amusement and looked up to see her good neighbour Horice. An elderly white cat which was taken care of by a retired worker, who now fished in the stream. Kira knew that villager. He frequently fed her a minnow or sometimes a succulent salmon or even a juicy cod on a good day.
Purl dipped her head. "Afternoon sir"
Horices nephew who was around Marko's age A.J copied her and tried to look respectful.
"Good afternoon lady's, I'm spending the day with uncle Horice" he said it like it'd been rehearsed but that didn't bother Kira in any way.
"My, what gentlemen" she said.
Horice nodded.
"I came over here to offer you ladys a place to sleep, night bugs can get caught in thick fur"
Kira and Purl purred in thanks.
"No thank you but thanks for offering, we should probably get Marko and A.J to sleep at least" said Purl.
"Right" agreed Kira.
So the five cats lay down on the soft grass of the field next to the wall. The flowers were soft and powdery with pollen. The sun set on the horizon, casting a long but comforting shadow of Dirt Water ridge, silhouetting the cats against the world.