CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE FIRST DAY OF THE actual jousting competition (as opposed to just qualifying rounds) dawned, I was told, as bright and brilliant as it had the last few weeks. I didn’t know, having spent the morning lying smooshed up against Walker’s side, wonderfully at peace and happy as his breath ruffled my hair in regular, even breathing tinged with the slightest hint of snoring.
“What do you think, should I keep him?” I asked Moth, who lay in meat-loaf mode on Walker’s belly, reaching out a paw occasionally to bat at my fingers as I drew lazy circles on Walker’s chest. “He’s bound to be trouble, what with that whole obstinate male thing going on.”
Moth’s whiskers twitched.
“No, I’m not saying he’s not worth the trouble, it’s just that I had this idea of everything working out
