Cat's and Dog's

Fairies, names, and terrible, terrible mistakes

I spent the entire rest of the first day in my room, exploring and memorizing every inch of it. It was a very plain room, boring in how normal it was. It had a bed, a dresser I managed to get on top of, and a couch. There were a few carpets that covered the tile, and these I quickly moved into the sunlight streaming from the window. Without anything else I was willing to do, I began to nap. When I woke up, the sky outside was dark, and I heard someone snoring quietly behind me. I stood and turned to face the person, and found myself looking at the sleeping body of a younger teenage boy. He couldn't have been older than fifteen. He had the lankiness comes with puberty, but he hadn't yet hit his growth spurt.

If I could have moved him, I would've; as things stood, I pulled a pillow off of the couch (with my teeth, obviously. I still didn't have hands.) and managed to push it close to his face. Then came the tricky part. I tickled his face with my tail, continuing to do so until he blearily sat up. I quickly pushed the pillow under his head and leapt on top of him, pushing him down before purring. He was tired, confused, and on the receiving end of a purring cat. He never stood a chance. He was out before he was fully aware of what had happened. I had planned on moving after that, but he pulled me into a hug in an unconscious move. I kept purring, softly and quietly, admitting defeat. I might as well let him have his moment.

And so it was that I woke up to the sight of three older teenagers watching me sleep in the arms of their pack-mate. I gave them a glare and waited, Gail twitching slightly as more people came into the room, until the kid woke up. When he did, it was both satisfying and made me angry. The kid blushed, obviously mortified, and the other five children in the room barely held back their laughter as they watched him wake up from what was apparently an embarrassing situation. I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I climbed slowly and purposefully into the kids lap before laying down and purring. The laughter immediately stopped as they watched him in confusion. He himself was confused as he tentatively petted me. I was proud of their confusion; it meant I was doing things right.

I only sat there for a minute before I climbed out of the kids lap and walked out of the room. I was incredibly stiff and wanted nothing more than to stretch, but I had already smelled the wolf stink seeping into the room; and I was determined to have something that didn't smell repulsive. So they left my room, dissipating quickly after they heard Fen coming. I, of course, made the only choice I really wanted to at that point. I stretched, yawning as I did so, and basked in the feeling of my bodies stiffness fading. I then dashed away before Fen arrived. I had to have priorities, and avoiding Fen was pretty high up there. I knew that the story with the kid would get around to him soon, and I really didn't want him to try hugging me again. His jacket seemed to be immune to my teeth.

I wandered the house, refreshing my memory until I happened upon a familiar scent. I traced Jen all the way to the back door, and stopped at the open threshold. I would have walked outside, but there were wolves in the yard. And besides, Jen's scent went past it. I followed her trail all the way to the "forbidden" stairs, and I walked up them with no regrets. If I had been hoping to die, I was sorely disappointed; but I got something that made up for it. I found a rooftop garden. It was covered in flowers and bushes and ferns of every species I could name, and it was contained in a greenhouse. I tracked Jen, though it was harder now with all the other amazing scents, through the jungle-like maze of flora until I found her.

She was talking animatedly with a group of butterflies, describing her newest friend. After listening for a moment, I mewed, grabbing both her attention and the attention of the swarm. I tilted my head at the butterflies, wondering why they seemed so blurry, and pawed at my eyes. If I was going blind, I wanted my last sight to be either Cassia, or Fen's corpse bleeding out at my paws. I was a guy of simple wants. Jen got a concerned look on her face and turned back to the butterflies, speaking in a weird, high-pitched language that sounded like a mixture of humming, chirping, and an unprecedented amount of trilling. The butterflies either didn't respond, or were appeased, because they didn't come after me and rip me limb from limb; which I later learned was the usual response to uninvited guests.