As I navigated through the throng, my nose caught a whiff of something that made my mouth water instantly. Fish. Fresh fish. My eyes darted around, searching for the source of that intoxicating aroma. That's when I spotted it – a stall piled high with glistening, silvery fish. The vendor was busy haggling with a customer, an older man with a wrinkled face and a deep frown. His hands waved in frustration as he argued over the price, his voice loud and gruff.

The fish looked fresher than any stall I had come across in the market, and I was determined to take at least one of them. The problem was, this wasn’t the sewers anymore. In the sewers, there had been no humans to worry about, only rats. But out here? There were people everywhere. Even though I was going relatively unnoticed right now, that could change in an instant if I caused a scene.

I crouched low beside a crate, doing my best to stay out of the fishmonger’s sight. It was evening now, and the shadows made it easier to blend in. The fish seller was distracted, still arguing with the customer. But there was a stick in his hand, and I had no doubt it was meant to keep stray animals like me at bay. He was waving it around while haggling with the old man. To make matters worse, the stall was higher than I could reach on my own. My small body, weakened by hunger and low stamina, couldn't hope to jump and grab a fish from this position.

I needed a plan. A distraction.

My gaze swept the street, looking for anything that could give me the opening I needed. The marketplace was a bustling hive of activity. Merchants called out their wares, children darted between stalls playing some incomprehensible game, and the air was thick with the mingled scents of spices, sweat, and livestock.

That's when I spotted it – a donkey-drawn cart creaking down the road, overloaded with what looked like sacks of grain. The two malnourished donkeys were moving as if they would go kaput at any moment, their ribs visible beneath matted fur. I knew this was my chance. What I was about to do was risky, especially for a small kitten like me, but hunger clouded my judgment and spurred me to action.

As the donkey cart passed by the crates where I was hiding, I darted underneath it, my heart pounding in my chest. Timing was everything now. I waited, counting the donkey's steps, feeling the vibrations through the cobblestones. As soon as the donkeys reached the fish stall, I made my move.

With lightning speed, I swiped at the leg of the donkey closer to the fish stall. My claws barely grazed its skin, but it was enough. The startled animal let out a loud bray and began stomping its hooves wildly. I narrowly avoided being trampled, ducking and weaving between the donkey's legs.

But my work was already half done. The scared and hurt donkey started making a scene. It let out a loud bray andbegan stomping its hooves wildly. The old man, who was haggling with the fishmonger, got scared by the donkey’s behavior and decided to move aside. The driver shouted at the poor donkey what looked like slurs.

The fishmonger, whose business was now being blocked by the donkey’s thrashing, turned his frustration on the cart driver, yelling for him to move his beasts. I decided to quickly climb the cart’s wheel and jump to grab a fish at the edge. But in his agitation, the fishmonger did something I hadn't anticipated – he raised his stick and brought it down hard on the already agitated donkey's flank.

And all hell broke loose.

The donkey, already scared and now in pain, went berserk. It reared up on its hind legs, eyes wild with fear. Its powerful hooves lashed out, striking the fish stall with enough force to send it rocking dangerously. Fish began sliding off the carefully arranged display, falling to the ground with wet smacks.

The fishmonger's face drained of all color as he stumbled backward, nearly falling over his own feet. He waved his stick around frantically, trying to keep the thrashing donkey at bay.

It was chaos—exactly what I needed.

Seizing my chance, I darted forward. My eyes locked onto the biggest fish I could see – a plump mackerel that had fallen from the stall. I pounced, sinking my teeth into its flesh and preparing to make my escape. But I wasn't the only opportunist in the marketplace.

Before I could take more than a step, I saw movement from the corner of my eye. Two other cats – one a sickly orange one with black stripes and the other a sleek black shadow – were racing towards the fallen fish. Hot on their heels was a mangy dog, its tongue lolling out as it eyed the unexpected feast.

Panic surged through me. I couldn't lose this fish. Ignoring the pain in my leg, I took off at a sprint. The shouts behind me grew louder as the fishmonger realized what was happening, but I didn't dare look back. I weaved through the crowd, my small size allowing me to duck between legs and under carts. The fish in my mouth was heavy, making my run uneven, but I clutched it tighter, determined not to let it go.

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Just as I thought I was in the clear, a new threat emerged. A stray dog from an intersecting street spotted me – a mutt with dirty fur and hungry eyes. It let out a vicious bark and gave chase, its paws thundering against the cobblestones. My heart pounded even harder, if that was possible. I could hear the dog gaining on me with every second. I zigzagged through the crowd, hoping the sudden changes in direction would throw it off. People jumped back as I weaved between their legs, startled shouts erupting around me. I was almost there, just a few more feet—

Suddenly, a figure stepped in front of me, blocking my path. It was an old beggar, his face dirty and eyes squinting at me. He reached down with bony fingers, trying to make a grab for me. My heart sank. I turned sharply, barely avoiding his hand, but the dog wasn’t so lucky. It crashed into the beggar’s legs with a startled yelp. The beggar fell backward with a cry, landing hard on the cobblestones. The dog yelped in surprise, tangled in the beggar’s tattered robes, while the old man cursed loudly, trying to free himself.

I didn’t stick around to watch. Using the moment of confusion to my advantage, I bolted towards the nearest open doorway – what looked like a small clothes shop.. The heavy smell of dyes hit my nose. The shopkeeper, a plump woman, sat behind the counter near the entrance fanning herself. She hadn't noticed me enter, too engrossed in what looked like a ledger book.

The walls were lined with clothes, cheap from their looks, most of them made from cotton and having muted colors. I hurried to the back of the shop and hid behind some cotton trousers. My legs were trembling from all the running, and my mouth ached from carrying the fish for so long. Guess I used up a lot of stamina. I rested a bit to catch my breath. My mouth was aching to eat the fish right then and there, but the fear of getting caught helped me overcome it.

The shouts and barking outside were still going on. The shopkeeper grumbled something and got up from her seat to look out into the street at what was going on. The shouting continued for a few more moments until it quieted down. The woman came back inside and sat down in her seat.

I waited and waited. My stomach was aching now from the hunger and my mouth drooled all over the fish. But getting caught now will be the undoing of all my efforts so far.

Customers came into the shop a couple of times. I looked out from behind the clothes at them. First a dust-covered man, who was looking for a replacement for his tunic, which was in tatters. He haggled for a bit and left without buying anything. The woman muttered something after he left.

Next came a woman with a young boy, who was probably her son. She was looking for a trouser for him. He was getting scolded for reasons I could not understand due to the language barrier. The shopkeeper got up from her seat and came near me to pick up some pants.

My heart was ready to jump out of my mouth, but by whatever saving grace, the mother chose the very first pant the shopkeeper picked. They haggled for a bit and finally, the mother paid for the trousers. The boy earned more scolding and a smack on his head as they were leaving the shop. I enjoyed this live entertainment while taking small nibbles out of the fish.

It was nearing dark now. The shopkeeper grumbled more. She had a habit of grumbling from what I had noticed so far. She turned to look at the wall clock behind her seat. I could make no sense of the numbers or the dials on the clock. They were pointing at what looked like ten ‘o’clock according to the clocks back on Earth. But then again, the clock had sixteen markings instead of twelve. Whatever. I gave up on trying to understand it at that moment.

But I was sure the shopkeeper would soon close the shop. It was my moment. While the woman checked on the time, I got out of my hiding place and paced out of the shop with the prized fish in my mouth.

The cooler evening air hit me as I emerged onto the street. Things were quieter now, the earlier chaos having died down. There was no sign of the beggar or the dog that had chased me. The number of pedestrians had decreased too, most having returned home for the evening meal.

Darkness was settling over the city, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. There was no public lighting, as was to be expected in what seemed to be a medieval setting. The only illumination came from flickering oil lamps that some people had hung outside their homes and shops, casting pools of warm light onto the street.

But darkness was not a problem for my feline eyes. I could see clearly enough to make my way back to the alley I had first emerged from earlier that day. It was still filthy, but beggars couldn't be choosers. I needed a safe place to eat my hard-won meal.

I reached the alley without incident, relief washing over me as I padded into its familiar gloom. The larger rat I had killed earlier was gone now – probably taken by another hungry stray. I moved to the back of the alley, which was relatively clean compared to the entrance where people dumped their waste.

Finally, it was time. My stomach growled loudly, and without further hesitation, I tore into the fish. The rich flavor flooded my senses. I had eaten raw fish as sushi and sashimi when I was human, but I had harbored doubts about consuming it in this form. Those doubts evaporated instantly as my feline instincts took over, guiding me to devour every edible morsel.

As I ate, I felt a strange surge of energy coursing through me. My vision seemed to sharpen even further, colors becoming more vivid in the dim light. My muscles loosened, the aches from the day's exertions fading away. Even the persistent pain in my injured leg began to subside.

With a final, satisfying bite, I sat back, licking my paws clean and savoring the moment. A chime sounded.

You have eaten a Mackerel.

+4 Health

+6 Stamina