Jan 062012
 

Back and back and further back still, there lived a puppy, Enzo by name. Now Enzo was not your average puppy. He was very energetic and liked to bound about like other puppies, it’s true. But Enzo was also a very tubby puppy. So much so that when he curled up, he looked as round as a ball.

Enzo lived in Bree. His poppa was ranger of the nearby woods. Every morning, Enzo would trot alongside his poppa as he set out on patrol. And every night he would curl up, looking as round as a ball, to listen to his poppa as he shared the details of his day.

“Someday, you’ll be a ranger too, Enzo…” his poppa would tell him.

“Oh yes, poppa! I’m gonna be the bestest ranger ever!” Enzo would answer.

Sometimes, Enzo would go into the woods to play. He had a favorite tree on a hill that he would go to. There, he’d pretend he was a ranger like his poppa and that the tree was his territory to protect.

One day, as Enzo was standing guard over his tree, a wolf passed by.

Enzo bounded out in front of the wolf, “No one may pass Ranger Enzo!”

But the wolf simply batted Enzo away with a paw, causing the poor puppy to tumble and fall rolling down the hill. The wolf laughed and went on his way.

And so it would happen again and again. Enzo would run out to block a passer-by only to get knocked down the hill and get dizzy from all the rolling.

But there was one fur who did not push poor Enzo: a handsome cat with blue eyes who liked to hunt for bits of string and shinies.

“Hold your ground, kitty!” the puppy told the cat.

“Surely I would, my roly-poly little friend,” the cat answered, “Only my paws are all wet and slippery. Were I to hold the ground, I most certainly would drop it!”

Enzo blinked, “That makes no sense!”

The cat grinned, “I suppose it doesn’t.”

“You can’t pass through here,” the would-be ranger told the cat.

“Are you sure? That path says different.”

Enzo looked down the path that lay ahead of them, “Okay…you *CAN* pass through here, but only if *I* give you permission!”

The cat nodded, looking very serious, “And do you give me permission?”

Enzo thought about it for a second. The cat seemed friendly enough. He hadn’t pushed Enzo down the hill like all the others. “You can pass!” he told the cat solemnly.

“Excellent! I’d hate to have had to turn back after coming all this way! Truly, you are a kind and noble ranger!” The cat gave the puppy a little bow.

The little dog puffed his chest out with pride, “My name is Enzo!”

“Pleased to meet you, Enzo!” the cat said with a smile. “My name is Pepetus, but you can call me Pepe. All my friends do!” For Pepe the king of cats it was, only this was in the days before he had a crown to be recognized by.

“Okay Pepe!” Enzo said happily, wagging his tail. “Where are you going?”

“Here, there and anywhere…” Pepe answered, “But mostly I’m going where my paws carry me.”

“Why?”

The cat scritched his ear, thinking, “Well, I suppose it’s because I never learned how to fly!”

Enzo laughed. Pepe was so silly! “Cats can’t fly!” he told the cat.

Pepe grinned, “I guess that explains why I never learned how!”

Enzo and Pepe continued to talk for a long time. Enzo laughed a lot at the silly things Pepe would say and Pepe seemed pleased to say silly things for Pepe to laugh at. But then, as with all good things that must come to an end, it was time for Pepe to carry on his way.

“It was nice talking to you, Enzo, but I have to go. Since I can’t fly, I have to walk and it’s ever so much slower.”

Enzo was sad to see his new friend go, but it was getting late and he had to go home as well. “Okay,” he said sadly. “Do you think you might come back here again, some day?”

Pepe smiled, “Well, I never know where my paws will carry me until I get there. Chances are though, that eventually they’ll have to step some of the same steps they’ve stepped before. And since *these* are steps I’ve stepped before there’s always a chance I’ll step them again.”

Enzo was satisfied with that answer, “Okay! Take care Pepe!”

“And you, Sir Enzo, noblest of the roly-poly puppies!” And with that, the cat was on his way.

Many years passed, and through them all Enzo fondly remembered the fine afternoon he’d had with the silly cat.

As he predicted, Pepe’s paws did come to step the same steps he’d stepped before and some of those steps did lead him back to Bree. And this time he did have a crown to recognize him by.

Enzo was all grown up and not nearly as roly-poly. He was a ranger for real now with a family of his own and many responsibilities. Still, seeing Pepe walk up the path made him smile. Enzo didn’t even need the crown to recognize him.

He went out to meet his friend, “Hello Pepe! I’d like for you to meet my son!” And thus began another fine afternoon…

Jan 042012
 

Except from Historical Figures of Pelaria:

King Pepetus was the eighth king of the age. He was the first king chosen from outside the Six Clans. His coronation marked the end of the Little Fur Secession and Rebellion, which was sparked by Pepetus himself.

Amongst Pepetus’ most lasting contributions to Pelarian society was his decision to move governing power from the paws of the king to the Committee of Six. Prior to his coronation and throughout his reign as king, he was an activist for equality amongst furs big and small. For this reason, he is still revered as one of the greatest kings in Pelarian history even though most of the decisions and rulings that are associated with the later part of his reign were in fact made by the Committe of Six.

Carja’s Notes:

Pepetus’ story was basically written on a dare. After sharing some of my ideas for Age of Animus with a friend from work, I was challenged to write a story about her cat, Pepe, king of cats. She also suggested the name Pepetus to fit the setting better. It had been some time since I’d written any stories for Age of Animus, so I accepted the challenge and wrote the story of how Pepetus became king.

Dec 302011
 

“Nobody ever shows us cats ANY respect!” Biki told her grandfather one day.

“Don’t they teach you anything at that school of yours?” Her grandfather scowled. “A cat was once king of all Pelaria!”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Pepetus! Eighth king of the age!”

“Wow! Was he a good king?”

“One of the greatest kings to ever wear the crown! Would you like to hear the story of how Pepetus became king?”

“Oh yes!”

“Fine then. Sit here with me a spell and I will tell you…”

* * *

Pepetus, known as Pepe to those closest to him, was born near Appleglen. He was a singular cat in that he was born with blue eyes. From the time he was a kitten, he came to be known as the most handsome of cats.

The king in those days was Bairnard of the Ursus clan. It was tradition at that time, that the king of Pelaria was chosen amongst the clans of the Six Heroes. When the old king died, the new king would be chosen from the next clan. As now, the king was responsible for the wellbeing of all, but as is animal nature, favour usually fell on those of the king’s own clan.

Bairnard was the second king of the Ursus clan and seventh king of the age. Being a bear, he recognized size and strength as the greatest attributes an animal could possess. Smaller and weaker animals were often disadvantaged during his reign. Being a cat, Pepe was neither excessively large, nor particularly strong, but he was very clever.

It came to be that when Pepe was in his fourth year, Bairnard passed away. All of Pelaria was aflutter with talk of which of the six clans would produce the next king. The consensus was that either Seymour of the badgers or Cairith of the stags was the most likely to ascend to the throne. But through all the debate, it seemed only Pepe was interested in knowing: “Why is it that the king must come from the six clans?”

“The Six led us out of the darkness!” others would argue. “Without them, we would be the slaves of man!”

“As I know, we all had a paw in that victory,” countered Pepe.

The more others argued that it was right that one of the Six clans should rule, the more Pepe was convinced that the crown should be accessible to all. And so he declared that if a cat could not be king, then the kingdom would have no cats. The cats would form their own kingdom and Pepe would be their king!

The other animals scoffed at such a ludicrous idea. But the cats did not think it was so crazy. Why couldn’t a cat be king? And if a cat, why not Pepe? And so in short order, Pepe came to be the king of cats.

Now, during his youngest years, Pepe had travelled widely across Pelaria chasing bits of string and shinies of all kinds. Through his witty antics, he had befuddled many fiends and befriended many furs, most of which were small and overlooked by those that were bigger. When they saw what the cats had done, they rallied to the cats’ side. The rabbits, the beavers, the ferrets and the mice…they all claimed Pepe as their king.

The other animals did not take this secession all that seriously. What could the little critters do? Pepe would show them the error of their ways. His small subjects ran amuck throughout Pelaria nibbling their way through bags, chopping down trees so that they fell onto houses, inciting bees to sting travellers, and generally being the very worst of pests. But because they were so small, they were always able to scurry away before their larger foes could counter them.

These nuisances continued for the better part of a year until exasperated, the Provisional Council had no choice but to recognize the smaller animals’ rights. Furthermore, in exchange for halting the attacks, Pepe was named as the official heir to the throne, henceforth to be heralded as Pepetus, eighth king of the age.

“And *that* is how a small cat came to be king.”

“What happened to Pepe after he became king?”

“He ruled over Pelaria for many years and the kingdom prospered. But eventually Pepetus grew bored. A cat never stops yearning for new bits of string and shinies and so Pepe went out in search for adventure once more.”

“What about the kingdom?”

“Well, remember that Pepe was a clever cat. And so it was that before he left, he made his greatest contribution to furkind. He convened the Committee of Six to rule in his stead. The Six would be chosen from amongst the wisest of furs, scales and avian. Under their watch, Pelaria continued to prosper as well as it had under Pepe. Over time, the kings who followed Pepe deferred more and more to the Six until finally the Committee became the ruling body in Pelaria. Tradition has kept a king on the throne but he is mostly king in name only.”

“I wish I could be king, well queen!”

“I just told you that the Committee of Six are the real rulers of Pelaria!”

“Who cares about that? If I were queen, I could have all the ‘nip I wanted…not to mention string and shinies!”

“I suppose you’re right, granddaughter. I suppose you’re right.”