"If cats looked like frogs we'd realize
what nasty, cruel little bastards they are.
Style. That's what people remember."

― Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies

3. Language Studies

It was hard to measure time with the overcast sky effectively hiding both the moon and the sun, but when it eventually became slightly lighter Kat supposed it was day, and now they were finally taking a longer break to catch some sleep.

While the others made their blankets ready, Kat explored the area to see if she could find some water. She sniffed her way to a dark puddle in the center of a patch of swampy ground, it smelled fresh but tasted rather muddy. But it was better than nothing.

Her heightened senses were one of the benefits of this body, she figured. Besides an amazing hearing ability and night vision, she now had an excellent sense of smell. Her cat's nose did not divide the scents into pleasant or nasty like a human's would, instead it treated them analytically like a scientist, labelling them and storing them in a huge mental library.

If any of the Fellowship would get lost for some reason, she knew she would easily be able to track him – and just by thinking of them she could even after this short time recall every person's individual scent.

A rustle in the heather made her snap to attention. By its own volition her body tensed, making ready to pounce, and before she knew it she had jumped on an unexpecting field mouse and caught it under her paw.

Good grace, what was she doing? She quickly retracted, seeing the poor thing desperately trying to escape, but then her paw lashed out and hit it again.

No! She was not going to toy with mice! And she would not eat it, cat or no. There must be another way. Disgusted with herself, Kat returned to the others.

The hobbits were just crawling in underneath some dry scrubs and the taller people had covered themselves as best they could with their cloaks and hoods. The elf stayed awake to watch over them in case of danger and Kat joined him, rolling into a ball in his lap. Another of those things her cat's body would just do, like it were the most natural thing in the world to cuddle up with a stranger.

When he began to stroke her back she heard herself purr and got an irresistible urge to tramp his thigh with her paws. She could not help herself, and soon she was happily kneading the hard muscle, leaving tiny holes in the wool of his hose.

If you are going to do that, at least pull in your claws, he complained.

A bit abashed she obeyed, but it felt too good to stop.

Scratch under my ear too, will you?

Soon sleep caught her, exhausted as she was by all the strange experiences this day had brought.

/\_,,_/\
( – ᆽ – )

Kat woke up to a growling stomach, almost regretting not eating that mouse before. The others were munching on cold, dried meat that did not look very appealing, but one of the hobbits – he with the pony – cut a small slice for her, and since she was so hungry she ate. It tasted pleasant, but was very hard work chewing with the kind of teeth she had now. If she could get no other food, she would probably lose more energy by chewing than she gained from eating, she figured miserably.

The elf came to sit next to her. "Suilad," he said, and translated mentally: Greetings.

Kat tried to repeat it, but her jaws were just not shaped for speaking. "Ssooy-waaa," she meowed.

Good try. He chuckled. You are such an amusing cat. I am glad you decided to follow us.

You sound like I'm your personal Funny Cat video or something. Her tail whipped his leg angrily. I'm actually on a very serious mission! And I'm not a cat.

Oh but you are. He scratched her chin and her treacherous body reacted by rubbing itself against him before she got a grip on herself. She lashed at his fingers with her claws instead. Not hard enough to draw blood, more like a warning.

This is ridiculous. How many cats as clever as me have you talked with? You must realize I'm much more intelligent than an animal.

Animals are not as dumb as many believe. And besides, I have never known a cat before.

You're kidding me, right? How can you not have met a cat?

I have seen cats of course, but your kind are usually lone hunters who keep to themselves.

But what about house cats, don't you have them? For vermin control and all that.

Maybe the humans do, I know they keep all sorts of animals around their farms, but us elves treat animals as our friends, not as servants. He smiled sweetly at her. A darn attractive smile he had, too.

Just a good friend you are, refusing to believe who I say I am. She demonstratively turned her backside in his direction and strutted off to the hobbit who had fed her before. He seemed the most friendly of the lot, and when she rubbed against his short legs his face lit up with genuine delight.

He stroked her back, while continually speaking in the kind of cooing voice people tend to adopt when talking to animals or small children.  One word was repeated often, and Kat wondered if it meant cat, or maybe kitty? She could have asked the elf if she was on speaking terms with him (or thinking terms, rather), but as for now, she tried to memorize it. She was good at languages, surely she could easily pick up a few phrases and words? It would be so much nicer to at least be able to understand the others, even if she could not speak directly to them in this form.

While she was being cuddled with, Kat took a good look at the hobbit and his likes. They were more elegantly and colorfully dressed than the others, in waistcoats with gleaming buttons and pants instead of the more medieval looking tunic-and-hose outfit the others favored. Their height varied from the shortest of them who was only a little taller than an average toddler, to the one with the Ring who was around the same height as the first-graders of Kat's school. They had no beards, or any hint of facial hair at all – this they had in common with the elf, it struck her – but the angular shape of their chins, the size of their noses and their thick eyebrows made it clear they were adult men. They seemed to compensate for their lack of beards by having thick mops of curly hair on their heads and feet, the latter noticeable since they walked barefoot despite the cold. Another trait they shared with the elf was their pointed ears, although the hobbits' were less prominent.

/\_ ,_ /\
( *ᆽ* )

Kat soon got tired of giving the elf the silent treatment; it only served to make herself feel more lonely and cut-off. Returning to his side, she eyed his plate hungrily. Dibs on those meat crumbs you've left.*

Dibs?

Means I get them, because I said it first. She smirked.

You would have gotten them either way. I prepared them for you, to show what a good friend I am. He smiled cutely, offering her the plate.

Really? That's kind of you, but don't think I forgive you that easily. She devoured the food, and in such small pieces she found she didn't have to chew the leathery meat at all. What a relief!

When everybody had eaten their fill and their blankets were secured on the pack pony, they resumed their walk, and like yesterday it was very dark when they set off. Kat was glad for her cat's night vision.

Why are we travelling at night? I mean, what are you afraid of?

The enemy has many spies and servants who would try to hinder us – or kill us – in order to lay his hands on the One Ring. He knows we have it, and he also knows where we set out from because his Dark Riders chased Frodo and his followers there. He pointed at the tallest hobbit, he who carried the Ring.

The talk of enemies, killings and Dark Riders made Kat very nervous and for a long time afterwards she walked in silence, looking over her shoulder repeatedly – an easy thing to do with her newfound feline agility. Thankfully she saw nothing, and all in all the second day of the journey was turning out to be equally as dull as the first.

To pass the time, Kat asked the elf to teach her some words, which led to a long and very interesting lesson about the languages of this world and their origins. Legolas' native speech was called Sindarin, but he was also fluent in the related 'woodland tongue', Silvan. He spoke Quenya fairly well too, that was another elvish language, and had a basic understanding of Khuzdul, the language of the dwarves – but she was not to tell Axe Guy that. As if she could, in her cat body.

In addition Legolas was fluent in Westron, the language spoken by most humans and hobbits and therefore the one they used among themselves in the Fellowship – but he modestly claimed to have a little too strong elvish accent. It was this language he would teach her.

The first word she wanted to learn was 'cat', closely followed by 'stupid', 'talk' and 'elf'.

Cat can't talk, you stupid elf, she thought smugly, using the new words in a sentence.

It is called cats in plural, he retorted, smirking.

Kat had always prided herself in her language skills; besides Swedish she was nearly fluent in English, fairly proficient in French, she could speak tourist Spanish and understand a little Italian. And of course communicate with her neighbours the Norwegians and the Danish, albeit just barely with the latter. They spoke too fast and too slurred, like they had their mouths full of hot pebbles. Westron, however, turned out to be much harder to learn than any of those because it was so unlike them. She imagined it was a bit like learning Chinese or Russian – completely different from Swedish in every way.

Still, it was good fun, and made the tiresome journey easier to bear.

Since Legolas spoke out loud the words he taught her – or murmured, rather, to avoid drawing attention to them in case of enemies lurking nearby – it did not take long until the hobbits wondered what he was doing. Kat had no idea what they said, but guessed they probably were curious about why the elf was teaching Westron to a cat?

She would very much have liked to know what the elf replied, but to her annoyance he would not say. Whatever it was, made the hobbits eager to help out, and before long they took turns pointing at various items and pronouncing the words.

When it was time to take a break, Kat had learned all of their names and the words hobbit, human, dwarf, pony, backpack, foot, heather, gorse, stone, mountain, hungry, tired, homesick and cold. The meaning of the more abstract words Legolas had conveyed to her mentally.

Like yesterday they would sleep through the day, this time with the very tall swordsman taking the first watch as the rest of them huddled close together on the ground. Here was not even a bush to hide under, but the heather covered them scantily.

The hobbit with the pony – Sam, Kat now knew his name was – claimed it was his turn to have her and she graciously accepted his invitation. The elf looked a little disappointed when he stretched out on his back on Sam's other side, his body reaching almost twice as far as the hobbit's. Perhaps he too wanted a furball warming his stomach.

Dibs for having you tomorrow, he thought.

We'll see. Maybe if you're nice.

Not long afterwards she dozed off, purring and kneading Sam's chest, being as content as a woman in a cat's body can be in a strange world, with strange companions and with an unknown task before her.

​​​​​​​A/N:

​​​​​​​*) Yes, elves eat meat, I know they apparently don't in the movies but I go by book canon. ;)

Soon the Fellowship shall climb a mountain. Will Kat disappear into the snow and be dug out by an elf? Tell me your ideas for the upcoming chapters, and I shall read them with interest and then probably write something completely different, but hey, you never know! Maybe it's your lucky day. :)

Note: All Westron in this story will be translated into English, including the names of the hobbits. Tolkien never created more than a handful words of that language anyway.

Image Credits:

Screenshot from the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.