Morning had broken in the junkyard, the early sunlight bringing with it an official end to another year's ball. It was an interesting one to say the least. Of course there were small errors, such as the train for Skimbleshanks falling apart, or the Great Rumpus Cat's entrance placing him where he would be trying to intimidate Old Deuteronomy. Such things had come to be expected, for you could not be a Jellicle without a few doses of mild chaos now and then. Young, old, all of the clan had to indulge in a moment of mischief from time to time. The Jellicle Ball was a celebration of all that made a Jellicle cat more than your average kitten. Music, which connected even the smallest of the kits to the oldest, stiff jointed cat, flowed through the night, making it neigh impossible to tell when one song ended and the next began.
Until, that was, the Hidden Paw had taken their patriarch and brought the entire ball to a standstill. For a time more than just the music had stopped. Old Deuteronomy had earned his title, his age surpassing even Gus. How many kittens he had sired had been forgotten. Multiple wives and his overall nurturing nature blurred the lines between his litters and those who had turned up in the junkyard. If not for the magical talents of Mister Mistoffelees, the one who considered all his children would be gone forever. Trying to find Macavity when a crime had been committed was a task that nobody had succeeded at. Mungojerrie might take orders from the Hidden Paw on occasion (milk stealing being nothing to him after lifting an entire dinner), but could honestly claim to not know where Macavity's center of operations was.
But all that had been last night, and in the early morning hour, it was time for those who had humans to make their way back to houses, flats, and in Old Deuteronomy's case, the vicarage. Munkustrap frowned at the thought. Not because he wanted the ball to continue on as long as possible. Even the excitable and ever energetic Etcetera held a few yawns. When the sun is shining bright Jellicles rested.
Macavity had been injured yes, but that did not mean that Munkustrap was willing to say that the threat for today had passed. Someone should stay behind in the junkyard to watch over the kittens and the queens that called the junkyard home. At the same time the protector of the clan would be able to rest (and he needed that rest) at ease knowing that someone had lead Old Deuteronomy safely back to his spot on the wall. Humans, while incapable of understanding the most basic behaviors of a cat, tended to notice if a feline was missing, especially when said cat belonged to an entire village.
Alonzo could potentially stay behind. His home was in the junkyard, and in the streets he was thought of as nothing more than a stray. No, Munkustrap thought, he had been a part of the hunt for Macavity, and took up the fight. His second in command was already moving about the yard in a sluggish manner, ready to settle down and get a deserved break.
Skimbleshanks was out of the question too. While the older tabby could easily catch a catnap, he'd be doing so in the luggage cart. Duty not only bound him to the clan, but to humans as well. The trains could hardly be expected to function without the Railway Cat. Additionally he was one of those cats that belonged to no specific human, but rather was one for many peoples, all which were a part of their own clan. His absence would be noticed as much as Old Deuteronomy's.
The more that Munkustrap looked over the clan, the more he became aware of just how few toms he would feel comfortable trusting with the task of defending the junkyard. Ruling out those too young left ones like Alonzo, who had been particularly active in the defense of the clan during the ball, or had to make returns of their own. He sighed, too many queens and not enough toms. Munkustrap was simply going to have to make multiple trips before he'd get a chance to climb into his own comfortable cat bed. Old Deuteronomy first, of course, and then perhaps...
"Old Deuteronomy is ready to go," the Rum Tum Tugger told his brother, dropping onto the trunk of the TSE 1 loud enough to make Munkustrap pay attention. Cats are a picture of grace and elegance, poise and perfection. Tugger could be as nimble as any of the others, his large size not affecting him whatsoever, but he also knew how to throw that weight around.
"Best if he gets moving before the morning's cold gets to his joints," Munkustrap said, wearily pulling himself up onto his paws. There simply was no other choice. He would have to guard those who traveled to the junkyard on their way home. Maybe if he were to take the job on himself there would be enough left behind for safety purposes. He couldn't very well ask those he trusted with such an important job to do something that he wouldn't himself.
"You look like something that was dragged in," Tugger said, taking up the spot on the car's hood that had absorbed some of Munkustrap's body warmth, "Like an overgrown rat." Some brotherly teasing to mask concern. Of course he couldn't know how badly Macavity had injured Munkustrap. At the time he had been elsewhere in the junkyard, occupied with matters that had only mattered to the curious cat.
"Thank you," Munkustrap replied, his voice heavy with how unimpressed he was. Of course his brother looked refreshed as always, immaculately groomed and rested. Moments like this he was irked by the one whom he was closest related to. "By the the time this day is done I will be even less stunning than I am now." Tugger gave a half laugh and settled into the action of cleaning between his toes. "Old Deuteronomy is just one of many who need an escort to there home today. Last night was entirely too close a call."
"Have Alonzo or someone else do it." A straight and to the point response from who was highly regarded as a picture of indecisiveness. Tugger could see the reasoning for having escorts, and having a following let him know who all was in the junkyard. Outside the yard though, Tugger did not know who belonged to what house. Munkustrap gave him that look that said he had missed the point.
"I do not wish to leave the kittens unattended. Jellylorum has already made the trip to the theatre twice tonight. She's no young queen," Munkustrap reminded Tugger, "She'll have her paws full without Jennyanydots once Tumblebrutus and Etcetera have rested up. Who do you suggest stays behind and protects the junkyard?"
"I can."
The words hung in the air, as big as the Jellicle moon had been that night. Tugger himself did not seem to realize what exactly he had just said, and Munkustrap was finding it hard to believe. This was The Rum Tum Tugger that they were talking about, a cat who did whatever he pleased without care of what affect it had upon others, human or cat.
And yet... Tugger had the night before been quick to point out anything new. Grizzabella, now past the Russel Hotel, had been announced by Tugger ending his own entrance, a party within the ball, with a paw pointed to her. He had also joined in singing the song of their father, and again pointed out the cat that they should all be aware of. Tugger drew the kittens, queen and tom alike to him without even trying, and could get the young ones to obey him with just a gesture of his paw or a stern glance. By far the largest cat (other than Old Deuteronomy, who's size was due to years of being fed tasty tidbits), he could loom over them all, and should he fluff himself out, doubled in size so that he was nearly as large as a peke. And, Munkustrap realized, credit for the return of Old Deuteronomy had to go to his brother as well. Nobody had thought much of Mistoffelees's magic, not even Munkustrap. He knew that the adolescent could do some minor things, like lifting the trunk of the TSE 1, and restoring the lights. Tugger knew more than him about what Mistoffelees could do. For the first time Munkustrap could see that potential as a protector that his brother carried. The Rum Tum Tugger simply had not been interested in exhibiting it before.
"Alright then. I'll let the others know," Munkustrap said, bowing his head in respect to the Maine coon.