This place is strange, strange, strange. Everything here is sooo big. The people, the houses, even the rats. You could put our whole clan burrow into one of their ‘houses’ and lose it, provided you buried the thing underground before you put the burrow in of course. Good thing uncle Bindlewort taught me a bit about the big folk and their short-tongued language or I wouldn’t understand the half of it. I’m still not sure I do. Houses built above the ground, temples to things they call Gods, and more people all together than I have seen in my entire life. And it’s rush, rush, rush. Not that that is unusual for big’uns but the place doesn’t even slow down much when the light fades and the stars come out. There is a constant clanging and bashing and chattering from the smithy and craft shops, and there are so many people dressed in armour and carrying weapons of all make and manner, it’s as if a war was going on.
There is one place where the kitchen is almost never empty. Mind you, what a kitchen! Presses and ovens and stoves and drying racks and water always available and, and, and… it’s just fantastic. I’ve been able to sneak in there in the wee hours and cook up a storm - enough for me and some of the friends I have made around the place. There are the rats Eee, Ek, T’t, Teet, Scar, Twitch and LongTail – they are always interested in a feed. The kittens Pushti and Siang are also great for a laugh, but they don’t like the rats. I was playing hide and seek with them a couple of days ago and ran into an underground opening, only to find strange worked stone and the most dreadful smell, and lots of rats. That was when I met Eee and Ek and made a few new friends. I’ve managed to stay out of the way of most of the big’uns, but is it _really_ bad luck to be seen by the big folk? I’ll have to think about that some.