The Chronicals of Alaraf

Rob Reichhörnchen’s pickup truck was in terrible shape, but it could still drag a few cats from XmasTown to Mount Penn.

The cabin was eerily quiet. No radio. No chatter. Rob drove in silence while Baron held Ibn Arabi on his lap, the cat wearing a radio collar for his safety. Ibn Arabi still refused to be human for Baron Leto, so he remained a cat.

Rob noticed Baron absently stroking Ibn Arabi’s fur, but neither took any comfort from it. Ibn Arabi had decided long ago that Baron was just a pet to be discarded, and now he found himself trapped in cat form, removed from his position, and nearly trafficked under the Ombudsman’s suggestion for a ‘Restorative Academic Holiday Sabbatical With Option to Extend.’

They dropped a fake stuffed cat in Mount Penn, then continued to Centralia, to one of the last houses still standing. Rob turned off the truck and Baron Leto carried Duke Leto in cat form, whispering:

“باید ممنون باشی که تو رو توی قفس گربه ننداختم.”

Gefn still worked for NORAD and had tracked their approach by satellite. She was expecting them. The house was dressed in pine and lights, and her two adult sons were practicing Stav drills in the basement.

Baron approached the fireplace, Ibn Arabi still loosely restrained in his arms. He kissed him on his black fluffy forehead, then shifted into a yellow cat with a fucked up eye and nose booped Ibn Arabi’s paw out of habit.

“What…? The fucker may see me as worthless except as cannon fodder, but he’s still my Pir. Even if his favorite hobby is…”

Baron got soft-paw swatted by the blue-eyed orange and red tabby who had hitchhiked the whole way in Baron’s bunnyhug hoodie without anyone noticing.

Osprey was not to be trifled with.  (Especially outside of academic settings.)

     “Sorry, Murshīd. Anyway,” Baron continued, handing over a fabric Lidl bag full of cat items, a catnip tasbih, a little fountain, a special cat rug, and a brand new cat bed of midnight velvet with gold accents to Gefn.

“So, here is everything. He is toilet trained and we keep him pescatarian. Do not let him near the internet until he can sing again.”

Officer Reichhörnchen did not even headpat Ibn Arabi once.

Rob offered Baron a stop at Shady Maple, his treat, for buffet and wedding suspenders for his apprentice. Maybe also a trip to the Moxy dispensary to pick up a Clockwork Orange live resin THC diamond vape.

Ibn Arabi would be well cared for. Gefn’s family follows Sunna.

…and they knew better than to validate or give death threats any power whatsoever.