Why does it have to be a shovel?

***Boots***

"I know you're over there!" Boots called out to the rustling vegetation. Hopping down from his pile of rubble.

"Stay away from me! PERVERT!" the bush screamed, quickly followed by the sound of someone running away!

"Wha-" Boots was dumbfounded "Hey wait!" he shouted, chasing after his accuser.

'Pervert? Me?' this has to be some misunderstanding Boots thought to himself. He'd best clear it up too, who knows what kind of rumours might spread!

'I'm not a pervert!'

'How dare they…I…I…'

"I AM A KING!" he roared, hot in pursuit.

He refused to have his good name tarnished on the first day of the job!

***Fiona***

Fiona ran for her LIFE!

There was a naked man, with a massive hammer, right behind her. Intent on chasing her down.

"I AM A KING" the lunatic roared.

'What the f..' thought Fiona, dumbfounded, 'A king! I'm going to die, he's insane, he's so insane, oh gods I'm going to die!'

Tears streamed from Fiona's eyes as she sprinted through the woods, throwing away her basket so she could run faster.

She ducked and dived through the undergrowth and between the trees. But she couldn't put enough distance between her and the mad man.

She ran and she ran, but he was still catching up with her. With his massive hammer and crazy yellow eyes!

The crazy man was right on her heels now!

'Please oh gods please no! Not like this, pleeease!' she pleaded internally.

"DAAAAD! DAD HELP PLEASE HELP DAD! PLEAAASE!" she screamed, tears pouring out of her eyes as her house came into view.

A shadowy figure moved to her right and pulled her behind a tree, putting a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't scream.

***Boots***

Boots sprinted after the woman through the woods.

She even threw her basket away!

'Just what sort of monster does she think I am!' he asked himself incredulously.

Boots had her clearly in his sights now.

She wasn't getting away.

"DAAAAD! DAD HELP PLEASE HELP DAD! PLEAAASE" the girl screamed.

'Really woman! God's if she gets away my name is ruined!' Boots thought to himself, quickening his pace.

'If I could just stop her and talk all this out.'

'She'd see it was all a big mistake.'

'I'm not a pervert, I'm a king.'

'That's all there is to it.'

'She is mistaken.' he nods to himself. Convinced this will all be cleared up in a minute.

He sees her duck sharply behind a tree.

'Trying to hide from the mighty Boots are you!'

'O-ho nice try but you'll have to do better than tha-'

Something wide and metallic flies out from around the tree.

'Bonk!!'

All of a sudden Boots found himself looking at the sky.

A grey felinian with black stripes edges into his view. Holding some kind of tool in his hands.

'Is that a shov-'

'Bonk!'

***Gregory***

"Let's get him inside," Gregory says with a sigh, brandishing his shovel.

"But Dad he's dangerous! We can't bring him in the house!" Fiona pleads "I thought I was going to die!" she retorts, tears still in her eyes.

"Oh, honey, listen," Gregory says, holding his daughter in his arms, "we can't let him roam free, he could be a danger to himself, or other people. I don't want to be responsible for that."

"But..b-"

"I'm not going to bring him in the house or kill him either, don't worry." he says, wiping a tear from her cheek. "We'll tie him up in the barn and let the patrolmen have him in the morning."

'sniff'

"Ok Sweetpea?"

Fiona nods quietly.

"C'mon, you grab his legs."

***Boots***

Boots woke up with a very sore nose. When he went to wipe his face, he found he couldn't move his arms, or his legs.

His nose immediately started to itch.

'Gah this is awful!' he thought to himself, desperately trying to rub his blood smeared nose on his shoulder, to no avail.

Looking around the room he was in, it appeared to be a barn of some sort. Hay was strewn across the floor haphazardly. A small lantern hangs from the rafters above him, with a moth bashing its face against it.

"Another believer." he chuckled, despite himself.

He twisted uncomfortably in his bonds, which is when he noticed the loosely fitting trousers somebody had dressed him with.

'What the hell? Who would bother to put these on me…' a thought was starting to form inside his mind, 'Could it be… that it is unusual to not wear clothes?' the girl he chased was wearing clothes and so was that man with the shovel. The only other people Boots had seen wearing clothes were all human.

He cast his mind back to the time he spent with Alex. He'd certainly seen him without clothes, but he couldn't think of an occasion when he left the apartment without clothes on. Could it be that you must wear clothes when you step outside your own kingdom? No, no, that didn't quite fit. After all Alex often wore clothes indoors. Especially after Rachel moved in.

'Should clothes be worn outside?' he considered. Although, he was currently inside. Maybe it was some other factor, in that case.

'Clothes should be worn….' was he thinking of this the wrong way round perhaps?

'…all the time?' he furrowed his brow, 'But why?'

'There surely must be exceptions to this rule! But, if I accept it as a fact, that clothes must be worn at all times, then; only activities that cannot be done in clothes, are acceptable to be un-clothed for.' he thought with a nod. He felt as if he was on the right track.

'So, what activities cannot be accomplished whilst wearing clothes?' he raked his brain but could come up with only four.

Sleeping, as he couldn't imagine anybody being able to sleep in these uncomfortable things. Bathing, as obviously you need access to your entire body. Relieving oneself, would require the removal of his trousers at least. Mating would also require the removal of clothes. So that left him with four occasions when the use of clothes would be inconvenient. A surprisingly small number.

'It's all coming together now,' he mused to himself with a smile, proud of his intellectual prowess.

'Perhaps they will call me, 'Boots, King of Thoughts!' or 'Boots the Wise'!' he smiled to himself,

'However,' he thought with a slight frown, 'supposing my theory is correct; why did that woman run from me? And why did she call me a pervert?'

'I suppose to her it did not look like I was bathing, relieving myself, sleeping or… wait… did she think I was trying to mate with her? Could it be that, appearing naked before someone expresses a desire to mate? And if you don't want to mate you… run away? Did I break some social faux pa by pursuing her? And she thought I was going to force myself upon her! Thus, creating this situation that I find myself in!' Boots's eyes gleamed with victory!

'Oi-oi-oi…Isn't this actually pretty bad?' he suddenly thought with a gulp, sweat forming on his brow, he didn't think that girl would forgive him.

'Boots the pervert!' what an awful way to be remembered!

Although he hadn't been killed yet so…

'A trial or an execution? Or a trial followed by an execution?' He realised. He was doomed.

Looking down he tested the strength of his bonds; they were pretty tight, but he figured he could probably just stand up and crush the wooden chair against his back, then untangle himself afterwards.

As Boots was preparing his escape, the barn door creaked open. A burly man carrying a leather satchel in one paw and wielding a shovel in the other stepped through the opening.

'How did he open the door?' Boots thought to himself before shaking his head, 'that doesn't matter does it? It appears I'm going to die now.' he thought to himself solemnly,

'But why does it have to be a shovel?' he grimaced, imagining the number of blows it would take to hack his head off with that thing.

The burly man closed the door and took a long look at Boots. His fur was almost identical to that of the girl's from earlier, clearly related, Boots thought. Judging by his attitude he was either a father or much older brother, most likely a father. His knuckles tightened briefly round the handle of his shovel as he approached. Betraying his emotions. He was clearly conflicted as to what he wanted to do. And so, Boots surmised, he had come in search of information.

'A trial then.' Boots thought, perhaps this man can be reasoned with after all.

***Gregory***

'Why am I here?' Gregory thought to himself, watching his daughter's attacker for a moment.

He knew it wasn't a good idea, talking to a man like this. A man who had chased his daughter through the forest. What was he going to do to her, what would have happened if he'd caught her!

'I might become a murderer myself.' Gregory thought looking at his shovel.

'No, that's not why I came here.' Gregory frowned, finding his resolve. He found the whole situation very odd, but from what his daughter had told him. This man hadn't actually hurt her, he'd just frightened the hell out of her. Something that Gregory could still not forgive, precious as his daughter was to him.

'However, could be that there is no malicious intent there. He might have been sent by Lord Balgrun to demolish that old shrine….and somehow…lost his clothes?'

'Perhaps he was an eccentric and didn't think there would be anyone else in the woods?'

'Was he just about to have a bath in the stream or something?'

Gregory shook his head once more; he'd never know unless he asked the man himself.

He really wanted there to be a reasonable explanation.

He couldn't stand the thought that he'd nearly lost his daughter, that he'd really come that close to having his family shattered by a madman with no warning, no reason, just a crazed murderer with a hammer.

He had to know.

With a sigh he walked towards the black and white prisoner in the chair. He was certainly well put together, strong athletic build, probably standing at around 6'5" maybe 6'6". But he didn't look skinny, he looked like he could tear that tiny chair and the rest of the barn apart at any moment. But he hadn't even tried, or so it appeared. Something that Gregory found quite curious, knowing if the roles were reversed he would have tried anything to escape.

'I should've tied him up better.' Gregory thought to himself. Warily making his way over to the man and placing his bag down on the floor. He then grabbed a small bundle of hay and propped it up as a makeshift chair. Before sitting down and facing him.

The strangest thing he'd noticed about this man, by far, was his eyes. Deep and golden like that of a beast. He'd never seen a felinian with golden or even yellow eyes. It was strange to him that such an eye colour could exist. Perhaps he was foreign?

"Can you understand me, lad?" Gregory said flatly, biting down on the anger which was telling him to scream and savage the man in front of him.

"I can." said the man calmly.

'How can he be so calm! Is he crazy! Can't he feel my murderous intent! I could kill him! I SHOULD kill him!' the hatred welled up inside Gregory.

He was fighting with his baser instincts. As a father, he wanted to tear this man apart, paint the walls with his blood and burn down the barn around him. But as a felinian and a functioning member of society, he had to repress these emotions. What would his wife and daughter think if he turned into a mindless murderer?

He bit his lip; he knew that everything this man said was going to anger him. Best to get it over with quickly.

"I need you to tell me about what happened today, I need to know why you chased my daughter through the woods, I need to know why you were at the shrine, why you were naked, and I need to know why you're carrying that huge hammer around." he said as evenly as he could, his voice only carrying a hint of anger. He then produced a small flask from his bag and took a big swig of whiskey. Settling his rage briefly.

"Well.." the black and white felinian began with a deep breath, "I only chased your daughter in order to clear up a misunderstanding. She shouted at me and dashed off into the woods. It seems something I'd done had scared her, so I beckoned her to stop. She did not. The situation after that you are already aware of. My intentions were pure, I did not intend to harm her." he said firmly, holding Gregory's gaze.

Gregory maintained eye-contact throughout the man's explanation, searching for any hint of deceit. In his younger days Gregory had been on the town guard and had spent many an hour in an interview room with low level crooks and thieves. He was good at spotting liars, this man seemed to be telling the truth, for now at least.

"Continue." said Gregory, a little calmer than he was before, though not prepared to fully let his guard down, this man still had a lot to answer for.

"I was at the shrine because it was simply where I found myself to be. I don't think I've ever been anywhere else in this world." the ruffian said with a slight frown.

"Impossible!" Gregory scoffed, though he could not sense deceit in the man's words. Was he sick? had he forgotten his whole life? Amnesia? Had he had an accident of some sort? All these questions rose to the surface of Gregory's mind as he puzzled over the man before him.

"I assure you sir, it's the truth. As for clothes… well I've thought about them, but doesn't their existence kind of offend you? You know, as a mammal?' the man said, genuine curiosity in his eyes.

"Wha-…." Gregory was gobsmacked

"…" the man sat quietly, as if waiting for an answer.

'Ahem' Gregory suppressed a laugh with a cough. Trying to maintain his serious interrogator persona.

"Well, no, it's generally considered pretty normal to wear them, especially in public…that aside, what about the hammer?" Gregory said motioning to the huge weapon stood up in the corner. Maybe this man was some sort of amnesiac naturalist, or some sort of monk? Although he could be a smith, but with that monstrosity of a hammer, how did he even wield it?

"Oh, well, it does a LOT of damage." the man said with a smile.

'Ah, yep, he's an idiot' Gregory thought to himself as he covered his face and mouth, trying desperately to suppress his laughter.

He briefly glanced back at the guy's face and made eye contact with his round innocent eyes.

That set him off.

"Pffft- BAHAHAHAHAAAAAaaaa" he laughed into his hands, relief welling up inside him.

This man was no murderer, just an idiot with a big hammer.

'He probably hit himself in the head with it and forgot who he was!' he thought, picturing it perfectly.

Thank the gods.