SONTAR-HA! SONTAR-HA! SONTAR-HA!
It's been exactly 27 times the boy has asked me what that means since the beginning of my stay. The answer is simple: it's a war cry. It echoes in our blood, roars on the battlefield and resounds through the enemy. It should be the motto of the forseeable universe!
I've attempted to persuade Madame and the boy to also take up a war cry as well, preferably the Sontaran one (I suppose they have earned the right to do so), to boil the enemy down to a bag of quivering bones when the event arises. Madame has this hissy sort of cry, which isn't intimidating, it's...creepy. Not for me of course, no! Sontarans are never scared in the face of danger! We welcome death! SONTAR-HA! SONTAR-HA! SONT-
The boy has just shouted at me to 'keep it down or shut up'. He clearly does not understand the importance of field reports, even if they are past 'midnight', allegedly the hour of night that witchcraft is strongest in the air, according to the humans.
Many a time I've sat guard on the roof, scanning the skies for these 'witchcrafts', but nothing has appeared. However, I think I keep falling victim to their enchantments, as every morning after a 'witchcraft watch', I have somehow ended up at the front of the house, on the ground. And I have the most awful headache that should be allowed before death ensues.
Now, I use some of my nights deciding my next move upon my arch-nemesis. The Moonites. There it lies, silent in the sky, not even trying to reply to my war cries. I planned to keep up my war chant against it all night for one night, only to be dragged off the roof—by the ear—by the boy, and for Madame to ban my cluster snap-traps. Of all the things to ban from me, it had to be my cluster snap-traps. Why, if it wasn't for those, the human room of food preparation ('kitchen', for short) would be infested with tiny pests known as 'rats'.
I think they're ungrateful for the work I do for them. Every morning, I scout the area for intruders, any of which, 'SONTAR-HA!' will be the last thing they hear. This simultaneously lets the household know of my glorious victory which, I personally think, is quite selfless of me.
Soldier's Footnotes: Whether it was intentional or not, soldier QueenOfBeasts provided the stimulus for this field report. Of course, war cries are our very life-blood, so forgetting this is nigh impossible. I look forward to slaughtering you on the field of war, soldier. SONTAR-HA!
Human notes: Hmm, these stories are shrinking. I don't like it...
Any trigger words/reviews? Please say so, I don't bite! Most of the time.