pipsqueak

“Time to bring in the rats, Jerki!”.

“What for?”

“Justice demands it.”

“Who's Justice?”.

“Never mind, Jerki. Just do as I say!”

Jerki waved his hand, almost imperceptibly.

A dark bell-shaped cloud mushroomed across the floor, screeching to a halt first. Each flank followed the front line, condensing into formation as silence fell.

Jerki cupped his right ear and lowered it as a tiny squeak arose from the bell's clapper.

“Squeaker says not enough food for the pack. They badly need restocking.”, he explained to Curmi.

“Just this one last thing. Then they get to run the whole damn town. Or overrun it, if that's their poison”.

“Gotta have supplies, Curmi, he says, two pipsqueaks starved to their deaths last week.”

“Well, that's pipsqueaks for you. Maybe he can let a few more starve out and let the others share 'em and their pathetic little shares.”

“Squeaker says rats don't eat their own. They get proper burials and all, even pipsqueaks”.

“Aw! Tell 'em to come off it. Let 'em not forget who brought 'em here. Besides, they'll find plenty to plunder. Maybe they could send out the toughest rattoons and let 'em bring back some food for the others. As long as it doesn't affect the campaign”.

“Squeak says he needs time to deliberate with commanders”.

“One hour and that's that”.