Monica lay on the soft bed next to Rick. Monica’s eyes were closed. The night was fresh, her human’s body was warm, her belly was full. Dia was not hugging Rick. Monica had him all to herself. And the annoying hard-hard one Deneva had left. Sleep should be easy.

But Monica could not sleep.

It was strange.

There were few times when Monica couldn’t sleep. Times when there was danger, or when there was hunger, or when there was cold. But this was different. Monica closed her eyes and sleep would not come. Something bothered Monica.

With a sigh, Monica pulled away from Rick, though not before placing one of the big soft things between him and Dia. Carefully, she kept herself quiet. Like she was hunting, except without prey. She knew that if she wasn’t quiet, the other hard-ones would notice, and they’d start bothering her. Or worse, they’d think that her not being with Rick meant they could occupy her place in the bed.

Monica had smelled the interest, she knew she had to be careful.

As she noticed this thought, she stopped.

Why SHOULD she care about her spot being taken? She could hurt them and win and show them their place! This was her spot! No one took it from her?

But what if Rick brought the shiny-hard-ones all at once? What if he had them all take her place at once? The thing inside Monica was similar to what was keeping her from enjoying her sleep.

She turned away from the bed and to the not-there door. She’d seen Dia open and close it, and Rick had said it would break easily. It was hard to open with her large paws, but she knew how to be careful. The air outside the not-den was cool and refreshing, full of all the bad and wrong scents and only one good one. Monica could track the good one, it was a food scent, but that was not her food.

“Eep!”

Monica snapped her head to the sound.

Someone else had been there! And so quiet!

It was not-food-brings-food not-soft one!

She did not have the white and black cloths on her, but she was not naked like Monica either. Not-food-brings-food wore some dark gray cloth, ones very right and very close to her body. Strange cloths Monica had not seen before. Why did she wear strange grey cloth? Why was she quiet near not-there door right out of sight?

“Miss Monica, excuse my-.”

Monica loomed closer, sniffing. Nothing! No sniff, no scent, no sound. Strange! She grabbed not-soft one’s arm and raised it, sniffing more closely. Ah! It was the not-scent juice. Why?

“Food?”

Not-soft one might not have smell, but Monica knew she was afraid. Which was good, because Monica was not in a good mood and soft-one not being afraid of her would make it worse mood.

“Food.” Monica confirmed with a nod, snatching meat. She’d been about to move, but paused, frowned at not-soft one. “You no here.”

“Yes!”

Not-soft one jumped down to the green area with not-really-real plants. Monica didn’t like that she couldn’t hear or sense her so quickly. But at least not-soft had shown proper fear. So many soft ones thought she was weak. So many hard ones had stopped showing fear. Monica didn’t like it, it felt wrong.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Munching on the tasty meat, she bounded over to climb the not-mountain to get a better view. There were strong-hard-ones around, so she moved carefully. If Rick found out, he…

Monica frowned, coming to a stop on a not-rock and perching herself out of sight from the hard-ones. She chewed on the meat, looking off to the not-forest with lights and hard-ones and soft-ones. Too many in such a small place, more many than Monica had ever seen, all in one place. Hard ones always fought when there were so many, Monica had thought hard-hard one Deneva controlled this place, that was why they didn’t fight, because… because?

More things that didn’t make sense.

Someway, somehow, this not-forest was not hard-hard one Deneva’s even though she was the strongest before Monica came. It belonged to the VERY soft one, that Rick treated with fear! FEAR!? Monica had wanted to growl, but there were so many things that didn’t make sense she didn’t understand. She still didn’t understand. But at least she knew Rick, knew he wanted her, needed her. She was strong, and she’d protect Rick from everything, but…

But then he beat her with that not-fight.

He hadn’t done it directly, the shiny-hard ones had been the one to do it. But they’d done so thanks to him!

Monica ripped the meat with a snarl, chewing on it. She’d tried so hard, she could have used the not-fair things, but then so would the shiny-hard ones and then it would not be a game and would be a fight. She knew she could have won. Hunt prey, that was what she was best at! But Rick had…

Were the shiny-hard ones his? No, they didn’t smell like they were his, and his scent was not on them, nor did they smell of wanting to claim him. But the shiny-hard ones moved like…

Like barons. But they weren’t barons… were they?

Monica’s brow creased. They didn’t smell like barons, they had many of the same weird smells, but the smell of baron wasn’t there. The anger, the rotten dizzy fruit, the bad sex, the wrong-hunger smells, none were there. Monica had picked a bit of that scent, from the not-forest, but not from the hard-ones in the not-mountain. And Rick was NOT a baron.

So why did she feel wrong? What was this thing inside her chest that shouldn’t be there?

Rick had challenged her. And won.

Was that it?

Monica almost took the last of the meat and stopped as she looked at it.

Every day food she had not hunted was given to them. The den they slept in had not been chosen by them. Rick and Dia talked and moved with others that were not strong but were being treated as strong. Monica was strong, but more and more she was seeing the others not looking at her as strong. And Rick was happier because of it!

Why!?

Because Rick was the stronger one?

No! She was strongest, she knew she was strongest!

Fuming, Monica kept her growl quiet, she had to remain quiet… why? Because Rick would get angry if he found out she’d been outside? Because she’d made others afraid? They were MEANT to be afraid! How else could she be sure things were safe? That they knew who was strongest? Who not to anger? Who not to dare raise a claw at? How could she protect Rick if everyone thought she was weak!?

But…

Monica flopped back down against the hard surface. Was Rick strong? Why was Rick strong? Why had the shiny-hard ones fought as Rick had… Rick had told the shiny-hard ones how to beat Monica in the game!

Monica’s back straightened, eyes wide.

Shiny-hard ones did not fight for Rick, they fought against Monica!

Rick had been tricked!

That was why the shiny-hard ones thought they were stronger than Monica, because they’d tricked Rick into helping them! They feared Monica less because they thought THEY had won! That she was weaker than hard-hard Deneva who owned but not-owned the not-forest.

There was only one way to fix this.

Monica dug her claws into the not-stone and began making her way up to the cusp of the not-mountain. This time she did not care for being quiet, no, she was loud, as loud as she could. All around her the smell of shock and fear. Many many hard ones had not detected her and now they could. Monica pushed to be louder, to be loud enough anyone in or near the not-mountain would feel the challenge.

The hard-ones above that could fly were startled, scared, some wary and thinking they could fight, but Monica didn’t pay them any mind. She had only one goal. Reaching high enough she could see all the not-mountain in its hard flat ugly surfaces with no trees and no prey and no nice hidey-holes, she inhaled deeply and let out the loudest roar.

Today, the not-mountain would be hers, and she would show them.

She was the strongest.