(Untitled)
Sam Vimes had just wanted a walk.
A real walk, at that turning point between late night and early morning, when all the heat and most of the light had fled and anybody awake was automatically a suspicious figure. A real walk in real boots. He'd found a pair recently that were perfect, just the right size with soles so thin he'd probably have to ( Read more... )
A real walk, at that turning point between late night and early morning, when all the heat and most of the light had fled and anybody awake was automatically a suspicious figure. A real walk in real boots. He'd found a pair recently that were perfect, just the right size with soles so thin he'd probably have to ( Read more... )
A harried young man emerges from a side street nearby, frowning around- when his gaze falls on Vimes, his expression clears momentarily. "Sir?" he calls, in a tone of resigned hopefulness, "Can I bother you a moment, sir?"
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"I was wondering if you'd be kind enough to hold my ladder still for me, sir; I can't keep it steady and get the little beast down at once." Ewar looks slightly pained at being forced to ask assistance in getting a bloody kitten down from a ledge, as would indeed any man.
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Saving kittens was Carrot's kind of "community-outreach" thing. Though, Vimes recalled with some embarrassment, pretty much everyone in the Watch had been drafted into it at one point. Or three.
He held out a hand. "Sure."
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"Watch if the little beggar falls on you," Ewar cautions, once he's got the ladder set back up in place and is prepared to go up. (The kitten peers over the edge, disdainfully.) "Arum cats aren't the domesticated sort, he might have a go."
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The bark of knowing laughter from above answers that question- followed by some swearing and hissing (Ewar and the cat, respectively) as he's obliged to pin 'the little beggar' down with a hand before he can get a good grip on him to pull him in against his chest and start coming down the ladder.
"I could've been a sergeant," he reflects, holding the kitten up to inspect it for injury. "Could've been my chief's second. -I'm much obliged to you, sir."
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"I always knew lowlanders were mad," Ewar says with a dead straight face, and then he grins. "I'd offer you my hand, but I think I'd best not. Ewar, sir, swordmaster of Valdis."
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"Commander Vimes, Ankh-Morpork City Watch."
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Ewar takes a moment to translate that to something he can recognize, seems satisfied, and nods. "You're far afield, Commander. Can't say as I don't think Xanadu couldn't do with a bit of watching, mind. Can I do anything for you while you're here?" Since he gave him a hand with the bloody cat. Fair's fair; an Arum keeps accounts current.
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