[Tevildo]

Rain, rain, rain!

How Tevildo hated rain! The water dripped dully from the branches of the trees that lined the pathway leading to the Inn. He had slunk off earlier that day and left his two-legged companion trudging along behind him on the same road. He expected the two-legged to arrive a bit later, tired and thoroughly bedraggled. Ah, well, let the dunderhead get wet if he could not figure out that rain was threatening, and he'd better hurry up to make it to Bywater before the deluge occurred.

Tevildo's opinion of the two-leggeds was generally low, and today was no exception. He barely tolerated the fellow who claimed to be his "owner". As if any cat could have an "owner"! What a ridiculous notion.

If truth be told, Tevildo felt he had not had a master worthy of the name, since that distant day when he had been in charge of securing the meat for Melko's table. That had been seven or eight lives ago. Tevildo could not remember exactly when, but it had been a golden age when he had lorded it over the other cats. Now the best he could manage was to terrorize a mouse or two in the corrdidors of a dusty Inn in the middle of the place that men called The Shire.

Tevildo did not like Hobbits, any more than he liked Elves or Men. But at least Hobbits had large barns and storage bins filled with grain and other foodstuffs. And where there was food, he was likely to find a fat rat or two.

In the distance, he could see the outline of the Green Dragon looming. He observed that another traveller had just arrived and dismounted from his horse, continuing up the steps and entering the Inn. Tevildo waited for just the right moment when the door was left slightly ajar, and then hurried inside, scrambling adroitly between the legs of the man who looked to be the clumsy type, so common among the two-leggeds.

Tevildo purred with joy to be out of the rain and rubbed his shoulder repeatedly against the wooden leg of one of the tables. Absolutely no one seemed to be paying attention to him. His feelings about that were somewhat mixed. Undetected, he could get away with considerable mischief. Yet, at the same time, he felt irked that someone with his distinguished history should go so totally unheralded in such a public place. He peered around the room looking for the Innkeeper or someone else who worked here. His belly was growling furiously. He hoped to be able to persuade the staff to give him a job. He was no tame pet interested in a bowl of milk, but he would not mind killing a rat or two and watching guard over the hen's eggs in the stables in exchange for a dinner of fish and chicken.

He was not sure how he would get this idea over to the staff at the Dragon,since his ability to communicate was limited. In the old days, he had spoken freely with men, espcially with that milksop Beren. But things had changed with the passing of years, and men's ears had seemingly become so plugged that they could no longer understand his speech. Only the Elves, with their ability to exchange thoughts, could fully understood what he said.

Padding forward on dainty velvet pads, Tevildo leapt up onto the bar and curtly announced: I am Tifil (Bridhon) Miaugion, known to you deaf mortals as Tevildo (Vaardo) Meoita. It just may be your lucky day. I am available for hunting duty. But what actually came out was a piercing Meow!