This is a story of Loganoh’s youth… which, in actuality, was only a few months ago.
The entire herdlet had gathered. The Parliament of Mamas had come for a special ceremony. They were here to bestow the title of Knoght to one of Loganoh’s herdlet. Washoh was chosen to join a band of Knoghts known as Reecoh’s Roughnecks. To be dubbed a Knoght was an honour, especially since the Roughnecks were a band of some renown.
The Roughnecks needed a new member as Reecoh had fallen prey to an owl. Truth be told; the band wasn’t named after the recently departed Reecoh. He just happened to share the same name. Currently, the captain of the Roughnecks was a lemming named Xandroh. The name of the band never changed with the name of a new captain. That would be far too confusing as captains changed in almost perfect step with each predator that the herd encountered. Xandroh was famous because he once survived an attack on the herd by a young fox. It was a claim that very few lemmings could make, and not for very long.
The Knoghts had a tough job. They were the herd rim guard. They rushed toward the foxes and stouts while other lemmings ran away. They also kept the herd safe from itself. Whatever that meant… But being a Knoght did have its rewards. Knoghts received more food. Even in times when food was scarce, the Knoghts were always fed if not fed well.
To be a Knoght was source of pride not only for the lemming but for the herdlet that mothered him. Loganoh looked around. His herdmates were filled with joy and awe, except one. Cricetida, Washoh’s mother, was stifling despondent tears. Everyone congratulated her, in a rushed manner, on her son’s achievement and politely ignored the weeping. This was truly perplexing to Loganoh because Cricetida was a herdlet Mama, and therefore, with the Parliament of Mamas. Why was she crying, thought Loganoh, didn’t the Mamas choose to dub Washoh? Was anyone else questioning this? It did not seem so.
The ceremony ended in the usual manner. Washoh was given food to have his first meal as a Knoght. Loganoh’s stomach jumped at the sight of the food. He hadn’t yet eaten that day. It was a meager amount of food, but it was all for Washoh, and that didn’t seem fair. Especially considering that Washoh was still a very healthy weight. But that was probably why he was chosen to become a Knoght. All the Knoghts were the biggest of the lemmings, and usually bullies to boot. Loganoh’s mood soured.
“But what good does all that food do them?” Loganoh whispered to his mother. He was no longer able to contain his discontent. “How does being fat make them better Knoghts? It certainly doesn’t make them faster.”
His mother tried to hush him. He didn’t want to make a scene at the ceremony, but the situation seemed cruel. So many lemmings were going without, but not the Knoghts. Never the Knoghts!
“No.” he resisted. “How does fattening the rim guard serve to protect the rest of the herd?”
“Enough Loganoh!” His mother snapped at his ears. “How many times would you have been eaten if the Knoghts weren’t here to fend off the claws, beaks and teeth? The things you say! Did I raise you to be so rude? What if someone had heard you?” And with that she marched Loganoh away from the celebration.
Loganoh didn’t mind. He was in no mood to watch Washoh eat.
No one noticed Loganoh leave. No one noticed his outburst, except Cricetida. No one noticed that she had started to cry more bitterly.
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