FURET DE FER: CHAPTER -2
Winter had come around again. In Quelquepart this means a coating of snow thick enough for a dog to tunnel through, unseen from the surface. Snow was a mystical substance that clung to my whiskers and compacted into pads over my paws. It had a strange warmth to it, even though everything else was frigid. There were mysteries in the snow, things concealed for weeks on end. Or until they decided to pop up in front of me.
I remember bouncing along the top of the snow along a backstreet of the village. This was the area inhabited by people less friendly than Jacques and Jacqueline, but more subtle than their dad. Sometimes sirens were heard around here and, if you were close enough, the sounds of fighting. That day was clear and calm though. I'd chosen the early morning hours when I expected such people to be sleeping, sweeping or spheeping*. However I hadn't considered what their pets would be up to.
A furry black head burst through the snow before me. About a metre away, it clearly belonged to a fellow ferret, albeit one much older than moi. This individual sniffed around, scanning in every direction. After a few seconds he spotted me. I knew it was a 'he' because his distinctive musk had just hit my nostrils.
In a flash he'd dug his front paws out and heaved himself into plain view. He didn't bother to brush the white out of his fur, just ran straight over. My whiskers twitched. Something about his gait and his facial expression suggested non-conviviality. He kind of looked like trouble. I was a little worried, but greeted him in the usual polite fashion.
“Who are you?” he spat back at me, staring in a most contemptuous fashion. I noticed he spoke in ferret-squeak, not human-speak, meaning he was among the 'normal' ferrets.
“François Lefuret! What's your name?”
“That's not your business!”
“But-”
“You're in my territory. Get out!”
“Oh, I'm sorry. I was just passing through on my way to...”
He wasn't listening. Instead he arched his back to an angle I hadn't thought possible and started fuffing at me. I'd never seen anyone fuff like this before. Ferrets only fuff when they're angry.
“Leave him alone, Raoul!” That was a female voice and I was glad to hear it, since things were looking rather ugly. Someone with even darker fur jumped down out of nowhere and landed between us. Her musk was sweeter and almost reminded me of my mother. As she turned to face Raoul directly her thick tail brushed my quivering face.
I perceived that Raoul had ceased his fuffing. “What are you doing, Amelie?”
“Me? What do you think you're doing? Intimidating a poor little child, by the looks of it!” Her squeakings were like those of a squirrel upon discovering its nut stash has been raided. Still nowhere near as aggravated as Raoul had been.
“This runt is stepping on my turf!” said he.
“He doesn't know any better! Back off!”
Then Amelie turned to me and I couldn't think of what to say. She silently raised a paw and patted my head. “Don't worry, little one, he's not really dangerous. Let's get you back home.”
Meanwhile Raoul was backing into the shadows, not an effective way to hide when one has shiny white stuff on their back. His beady, menacing eyes stared at me like black holes against the snow. I wasn't looking forward to when we might meet again.
Ensemble, Amelie and I scuttled back the way I'd come. My living quarters at the time were close to Jacques/Jacqueline's residence. Through the year my family had almost circled the whole village as we kept moving accommodation.
“Amelie, where are you from?” Immediately after asking, I realized she wouldn't have understood me. In my confusion I'd spoken out in French speech rather than normal inter-ferret communication.
Upon hearing my query, she stopped in her tracks and gave me a most puzzled frown. “You speak like the humans do?”
“Oui.”
“Ah, you must be the Lefuret child! François, right?”
I gave her our equivalent of a nod. Like our shrugs, these are imperceptible to the human eye.
“Very nice to meet you, François! I knew your grandfather, you see, back before the bakery started making big business. He was such a clever one... but he couldn't talk like a human!”
“I never knew my grandfather. He died just before I was born.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry.”
“Eh. We're almost there, Amelie.”
“Okay then. I'll go back now, Raoul will be missing me. I'm his last surviving sibling, you see. I do apologize for his behaviour... he still thinks he's what they call an alpha male.”
“I understand. Will I see you again soon?”
“Sure! I can come over for a visit if you like.”
“That would be great. Goodbye! Dook dook.”
*spheeping: The act of breeding spherical sheeps.