Both parties recognise that they are leagues apart. Their cultures are completely different and neither has anything to offer the other, and nothing that the other desires. In effect, the Dirrians want nothing to do with the Mairne, and the Mairne nothing to do with the Dirrians. It has therefore been agreed that the Mairne will stick to their island and the Dirrians to the mainland … exactly as it always has been. So why do I feel so uneasy about it?
Log Entry 170701.211
Things are not going well. The Dirrians continue to show their disdain towards the Mairne, slighting Arunga at almost every opportunity. They are only ever little things but they are very rude ones.
For example, when they take tea, Arunga's is poured into a saucer and put on the floor. It means he has to get down off the stool he has begrudgingly been provided with, and drink like a mere pet.
Arunga, though, rose above it. He looked thoughtfully at the saucer for a moment, and then jumped down with typical feline grace and dignity. He sauntered over to the saucer, sniffed it and began to lap the tea up, enjoying its sweetness. While he drank, Honka tried to continue to talk but found it difficult. He discovered that it was more awkward talking to a cat on the ground than to a dignitary sitting on a stool before him. He had to twist around and down to see Arunga clearly. In the end, he resorted to staring at the ceiling as he spoke which made him seem even more aloof. In retaliation, Arunga remained on the floor once he had finished his tea and began washing his ears with his paws.
I could see exactly what Arunga was doing. If Honka wanted to treat him like a mere cat, then he'd behave like a cat. Honka would feel far more discomfort from it than Arunga would. In fact, I think Arunga enjoyed tormenting him in this way. Doubly so as the method of torment was of Honka's own making.
At one point, as Arunga sat on the mat washing his face, he moved in such a way that I thought he was going to roll onto his bottom, lift a back leg into the air and start licking his arse. Boy! Would I have laughed if he had! As it was, I had to stifle a giggle, smothering it with a cough. I didn't dare look at T'Roc.
Log Entry 170828.210
T'Roc and I were up early, preparing for yet another day on Dirria. Arunga was still curled up lazily in the warmth of the bedclothes with only his little purry snores giving away his presence. Sharing a bed with Arunga was just like sleeping with Beastie. He would stretch and writhe in pleasure during his sleep, often pushing his big, fluffy paws against me, occasionally letting out a silent meow.
T'Roc was reading a datapad as she sipped her tea and I was putting my boots, when I caught sight of her smirking.
"What?" I demanded.
"Nothing," she said, taking another unnaturally delicate sip from the cup.
"Yes, there is. You're grinning at something."
Still smirking, she put her cup down and leaned forward to be sure that Arunga couldn't hear her.
"Well, if you must know," she whispered, "I was just musing about … you know," and she left the words hanging in the air.
"I know … what?"
T'Roc tipped her head towards Arunga. She was teasing me, but I couldn't quite see how. I took the bait shamelessly.
"What?" I hissed at her.
"How to write this one up? What do I say in my report?"
My brow furrowed in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
T'Roc grinned even harder, evil glinting in her eye. She leaned closer to me and whispered, "I've never had to report one of my officers for behaviour unbecoming before."
Horror filled me. What behaviour? What had I done? My mouth worked open and shut like a goldfish, but no words emerged. T'Roc giggled.
"Sleeping with the king!" she whispered.
The words out, she immediately leaned back in her chair and took another innocent sip of her tea.
"It's not like that at all!" I hissed, but T'Roc only laughed all the more.
"Shame on you!" she tutted.
T'Roc can be a rotten tease.
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