Whisker nervously clutched a rusty green scissor sword in his trembling paws. Opposite him, Ruby stared back with a confident smirk on her face and a scarlet scissor sword in each paw. It was late afternoon and there had been no further signs of the Cat Fish. Whisker had slept until lunchtime and his rusty weapon had been scrounged from the cargo hold only minutes before the fight. Win or lose, this was his chance to earn some respect. As he tightened his grip on the sword, he felt his nervousness turn to determination. He took a deep breath, steadied his tail and waited for the signal. As the Quartermaster of the ship, Pencil Leg Pete began proceedings with a long-winded spiel. ‘The purpose of this fight is to determine the skill, speed and strength of the Pie Rat recruit …’ ‘Yeah, yeah, enough of the boring banter,’ Horace yelled from the sidelines. ‘Jump to the fun bit where you say, fight!’ Whisker couldn’t imagine anything less fun than playing the role of a loser in a one-sided annihilation, but at least he was fighting Ruby and not one of the Cat Fish.
