I am the master of all, the chessmaster, indeed, he thought as he observed the tiny obsidian pieces before him.

“Move anytime soon?” asked the Cat, flicking his tail boredly to and fro.

“It is customary for one’s opponent to wait while one is perceiving possible outcomes,” growled the little Canary in a surprisingly deep, rolling voice.

“Yes, well, I don’t have all year, either.” The Cat sighed and pawed one of his pieces.

“Touch that when it’s not your turn and your throat will be absent by tomorrow morning,” snapped the Canary, unexpectedly ferocious.

The Cat sighed again.

Finally, the Canary took a pawn in his little talon and jiggled it forward.

“Oh, oh noes!” cried the Cat sarcastically.

The Canary simply sat back, expressionless.

The Cat looked at him, and toed a rook across the board. “Check,” he purred smugly.

The Canary smiled and nudged the same pawn he had moved before a space forward. “Mate,” he finished.

The Cat yelped as the Canary launched towards him.