100 Words of Speculation written over a background of fountain pen and printed text

Una the Deep Miaowing sat upon the highest of high spots in Ut-Garden. Fugl Bloody-Shirt’s raids became more common by the day. She must prepare herself.

Legs drawn up, she wrapped herself in her tail. She had lain in wait. She had left and then returned hoping to catch him glutted with spoils. Yet each time, he had slipped away as if he knew she was close.

There must be an answer. Strength of self filled her, but inspiration did not.

Standing silently below, Jaspar Fuzzy-Breeks marvelled at the brilliance of her strategies, but wondered why she spoke them aloud.

Raiding the Giant’s Horde

100 Words of Speculation written over a background of fountain pen and printed text

Jaspar Fuzzy-Breeks, Jarl of Sofar, Chare, and the Boxen Isles, stretched. Winter had come to Ut-Garden, bringing cold and damp to the very sill of his hall. And, as they did every year, the thumb-giants had failed to drive it back.

Una the Deep Meowing counselled yowling at the winter, but Jaspar favoured a different course. He would sleep until the thumb-giants opened the door of Nom. Then he would feast and fight until the hour when the thumb-giants settled back onto their resting places.

The moment they did, he would steal the thumb-giant’s heat.

And then sleep some more.

A Fine Length

While the young (and not so young) often believe in a black-and-white world; and even those who accept other hues at times wish for simpler choices. However, compromise might be a necessary part of civilisation; thus it is more useful to judge a person not by whether they compromise, but by the compromises they make. Even if those compromises are a touch abstruse.