aç ayı oynamaz

Levent Kartal · 01-16-2012, 02:55 PM

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Set in Freetown. SSWM 507

The crackling scarlet flames unnerved the white cat, who wound around his partner’s back and settled down uncomfortably on the bulging satchel of goods. Some of the other luperci around the fires looked like they’d rather abandon their spits of meat for the healthy feline—or perhaps Wilson was paranoid. This was not the first time that they’d come about the Cooks’ Den, but the friendly faces that they’d chatted with before were missing. They’d probably up and left Freetown, hopping back onto their ships or setting off on horseback and foot alike to other places on the continent.

“We should get moving too,” Wilson mewed, flicking his tail against his friend’s side.

Levent was counting out some ivory pieces he’d salvaged from his travels, finally picking out the one shaped like an elephant and closing his fingers over it. “Ne?” he asked distractedly, his pale blue eyes following one of the cooks as they removed a rather healthy-sized rabbit from one of the spits. The scent of charred meat and spices reached his nostrils, and he all but drooled. Thoughts of the delicious meal he would soon be biting into fled from his mind, however, as the tomcat nudged at his side even more insistently. His lip curled slightly. “N—what, what is it, Wilson?” he managed, turning to glance into the disapproving yellow cat eyes.

“I said that we should get going!” Wilson hissed. “You said it yourself; this whole bloody continent has potential, and yet here we are, pissing around and not—”

The Turkish wolf heaved a sigh, simply turning his head in the other direction and going quiet. Used to having his canine companion argue back with him, the cat fell silent and hunkered down, tail lashing behind him in aggravation. He was pretty bloody sure that that jackal was salivating at him rather than at her quail.

Levent finally looked back at his friend, patient for once in his life. “You’re clearly anxious to leave Freetown. I’m not, all right? There is plenty to do before we go anywhere, including trade for a map so we aren’t walking blind into a bog or something.” He reached over and fondled the cat’s ears, smiling gently.

Obviously stifling a purr, the tom returned gruffly, “Then we should trade for a map instead of wasting all your goods on nosh.”

“Aç ayı oynamaz,” Levent said solemnly, and translated: “A hungry bear does not dance.”

Twitching his whiskers, Wilson cuffed him playfully. “Learn how to hunt! That costs bugger all.” His cheek was repayed with a squint, and Levent drew breath to mock his friend’s British slang before the cook with the rabbit finally came over to them.

Quickly, the wolf offered the carved ivory in exchange for the meat. Inhaling the delicious odor, he grinned and dipped his head to the cook. “Elenize sağılık,” he said graciously before digging in. He whimpered his delight and tore off a chunk for Wilson to eat, winking at the feline. “Come on, it’s smashing,” he drawled teasingly.

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