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The junkyard is alive.
The moon is out and they're only a day away from the Jellicle Ball.
It's like this every year, but it always gives Munkustrap a new sense of everything. He loves seeing everyone gather for the festivities, the dance, the company of the other Jellicles.
Though, the small performance of the Pekes and the Pollicles always left him far more stressed than he needed to be.
Munkustrap's tail swishes as he watches Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer bat back and forth at each other in their costumes, high pitched laughter clear and easy to hear. Electra and Etcetera are nearby, their costumes sitting between them as they talk to each other in hushed voices.
He doesn't know if anyone else is practicing at the moment or not or if everyone has their costumes, but he's on a mission at the moment, looking for one kitten, George.
Even though he may not be a kitten, persay, George is still an important part of the tribe. He's a little excitable than most of the other kittens, but he fits right in.
Munkustrap's decided that George is taking the role of the Rumpus Cat this year.
It only makes sense.
He avoids asking Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer and goes straight to Electra and Etcetera. Etcetera, as she often does, speaks up for the two of them with a wide, toothy smile. "He's with Pounce and Tumble."
After a little more wandering, he finds the three of them chasing each other around a rather tall pile of junk.
Pouncival skids to a stop in front of him, eyes widening at the pair of goggles in his paws. "You're choosing the Rumpus Cat!"
Munkustrap nods, waiting for the other two to appear.
"Who is it?" Pouncival asks excitedly, staring at him expectantly.
He doesn't reply, and moments later, Tumblebrutus comes speeding around, George on his tail. George manages to stop without any harm, but Tumblebrutus crashes directly into Pouncival, sending the both of them across the clearing. After making sure they're alright- there is a loud bout of laughter- he focuses on the goggles in his paws and George.
"Munkustrap!" He looks incredibly excited.
"Would you like to be the Rumpus Cat this year?" Munkustrap asks, and George's face lights up.
"Really?" He gasps, gingerly taking the goggles from Munkustrap. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Don't make me regret this," Munkustrap warns, and George is unfazed by the statement.
"I won't!" He steps away and within moments, he's back to chasing Tumblebrutus and Pouncival around.
Munkustrap rubs at his face.
"Don't make you regret this?" His words are echoed and he turns around to see Demeter lingering behind him, sprawled out on a tire. She smiles at him lopsidedly. "Don't you trust him?"
"Demeter!" He moves over to her, placing one of his paws on hers. "How much did you-"
"I watched the whole thing," She laughs.
Munkustrap almost melts at the sound. She sounds so carefree, here, happy and alright.
"I'm sure he'll do great," She says, sitting up on the tire and patting the empty space next to her.
He jumps up beside her. She leans against him, her paw in his.
"How well do you think it'll go this year?" She hums, "With George and all?" Her tone is light, slightly teasing.
"He'll do better than Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer," He mumbles, and she laughs again. He'll never get tired of her laugh.
"I can only assume you've asked them to be the lead Pollicle and the lead Peke?" Her tail intertwines with his, a small gesture that makes him ever so happy.
"More like they asked me," Munkustrap leans over and places a kiss on her cheek. He loves her.
"They can be pretty persuasive if they want to be," She replies, placing her forehead against his.
"I love you," He whispers and she laughs once more, that happy sound.
"I love you too, Munk," Demeter whispers back.
They remain like that for a little while longer, the night beginning to wane. She talks about the stars, the moon, and he listens. They talk about the kittens, their Jemima and Sillabub- their first ball!
She pulls away as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. "Save a dance for me, alright?" She smiles and jumps down from the tire.
There are preparations to be made for the ball.
He loves her.