Throne of Sweetie Cakes

I am hungry. My human disappeared hours ago. My human knows that I am in need of food when the sun sinks into oranges and reds.
I must be fed. I will search for my human.

In this document:

Artwork by Shanda Nelson unless otherwise stated

Me

I am a sleek, sophisticated amepso named Sweetie Cakes. I am sable, with five delicate yet vicious claws that rend any fabric into microscopic pieces. My ears are twice the size of my head, so I hear even the most stealthy opening of food packages. My tiny pink nose can smell a meal a town away, and my pointed teeth can sink into that meal with precision.
My floofy tail fools many, but be warned--it can wrap around legs and the unsuspecting human will find themselves on the floor, pondering their existence. I am much better at this than the canine.
That makes me the most important creature in this highrise of steel, fake gold décor, and incense. Lots and lots of incense.

My Human

My human is a leader, the canine says. Leader of what? The Dentherion Empire, the canine says.
Do I care? No.
My human's existence is to feed me, and he is late in doing so. So I will follow the scent of over-done musk and iron-fried silk. I leap from my throne of carpeted pole and jingle-jangle my way to him.
My bell is his warning. I must be fed.

The Canine

I prance across the plush brown carpet and down the familiar, over-lit hallway with many closed doors and spotchy paintings. A table with a white and blue vase and an array of flowers beautifies the place; I brush against it with my tail, and the vase wobbles but does not fall.
I'll make certain to rectify that on my way back.
There is the canine, head down between his front legs, ears dragging the floor, his woeful brown eyes sadly viewing the nearly-closed, off-white door. He sees me and whines--but his whines have never stopped me. Not Sweetie Cakes.

The Room

"You LOST them?"
I hunch down further. My human is in a bad mood. He is often in a bad mood. I creep to the thin crack between the door and the jamb, my nose twitching. Foul things are afoot.
"How could you LOSE them? What do we have? We have TECHNOLOGY! What do they have? Horses and wagons!"
I bat the door with my nose. It shudders but does not open.
"How do you lose a horse and wagon when you have sensors that can pick up heat and movement? You're fired, Crandal. Do you hear me?"
I peek around the door. There is my human, hunched over, screaming into his phone. His belt clank-clanks on the floor as his feet shuffle about, reflecting his ire. Ugh. He would be in the smelly room.

I dislike the smelly room. Too much drip drop. But I must be fed before I die an ignoble death by wasting away.
Wrinkling my nose, I crash through the door and hop on top of the stacked boxes that ring his throne. I will speak my mind.
"RRAA--" Oops.
The top box wobbles. It wibbles. And wombles. Then it crashes onto my human as he screams his death throes. Documents pour over him and cartwheel away.
I hiss and streak away, past the canine just peering past the door, past the table with the vase--
CRASH
--through the plush brown room and onto my carpet pole. I leap to my hideaway, my dark and comfortable hole with my little stuffed ball, and wait for my pitter patter to slow down.

Apology

I am not accustomed to such strenuous activity. I roll onto my back and wait for my inevitable end.
It does not come. Of course not. I am Sweetie Cakes, and I will not meet my end from a couple of boxes filled with grand documents my human thinks are more important than me.
"Sweetie Cakes? Snookums?"
I roll over with effort and peek out of my hole. My human stands below, rubbing his hands together, hunched because he knows he did something wrong and expects punishment. The canine cowers behind, as he well should.

Well, I am magnanimus. I inch out of my hole and onto my dais. I pull myself to my full sitting height and stare down from my throne, making certain my nose is high in the air as I do so.
"Are you hungry? I'll even add your extra special yum yum treats."
Of course he will. I puff out my chest before I slowly make my way down my throne and to the ground. Sticking my tail in the air, the tip twitching, I prance to the food room.
I will eat my fill, as is my right. I will snatch my yum yum treats and retreat to my throne, where I will eat them and regard my domain with a critical eye. And, if I am feeling extra magnanimous, I will hop down and let my human scritch my ears. Only the best, for Sweetie Cakes.