Luck of Nines

4

      He did not know how far he traveled, slinking in the shadows, dashing down the streets once dark had fallen and sleeping as little as he could, but eventually he found his way into a copse of trees. Something clearly smaller than a forest, but still big enough for many prey animals to gather. 

He was hungry and exhausted, having kept moving except to meet the bare minimum of his needs, and his time spent with the Sully's had softened him to the demands of hunger and sleep. He collapsed against one of the many trees and closed his eyes to rest, uncaring of the root that stuck in his side or any of the other discomforts that clamored for his attention. Instead his mind continued to struggle to wrap around what he had become.

Becoming a cat had meant escape. It had meant meeting Rosy, in the end. But becoming this... becoming a beast, what did it mean for him? He had become the same as the thing that had killed Rosy. A monster.

He drifted off to sleep with these dark thoughts chasing him and haunting his every dream. When he woke up, the first thing he became aware of was he was still as he had been when he went to sleep, but unable to deny his thirst any longer he plodded off to find a puddle or lake to drink from.

His paws were heavy he found, with each step he took, thudding inelegantly against the ground with his awkward, cat-like gait. His tail was far less a part of him, and the scents of the world were dull, the colors different, seeing less greens, and his vision wider.

He looked along awkwardly as he got a sense for this new body until he reached a small stream where he crouched awkwardly to drink. It tasted different. More strongly for one, more earthy for another.

Somehow even this small action becoming a reminder of what he had become.

The days passed, slowly, but not in the way they once had in a quiet sort of bliss. Instead each moment was a new torture, a new reminder of his loss and the changes he was being forced to cope with. He wandered, staying away from people as much as he could, and fighting the unfamiliar urges that sometimes came over him, the cat ones remained, as did his human ones, both seeming to have blended together into one flawless sense of self, but new ones, to his horror, joined them.

Yet another mark that he wasn't what he should be.

The urge to cry loudly at the sky above during the nights he hunted was one of these, to let his tail droop between his legs in emotion or curl upwards when alert another. He fought them with a passion, as if denying it would deny the reality of his life.

"Woah, you're big!" He jolted from his thoughts, pausing to turn around when he was addressed, he knew the other was approaching, but admittedly he hadn't been paying enough attention. Rosy would scold him right then, if she had been alive, if she could still tolerate him like this at least.

He stared at the creature, much smaller than he expected, at least a full head shorter than he, with long, light golden brown-ish fur. It wagged its tail woofing wordlessly to express its good intent.

He snarled back, hackles raised, although he rather thought with his arched back it was more cat like, "Go away."

"Sorry, sorry, no need to hiss at me" the creature whimpered almost good naturedly, if he didn't know what it was capable of. It turned and lowering its head and wagging it tail a few times, "But I can't head back that way, there's a rogue pack which took exception to me around." They both knew the other way creating a sort of open triangle blocking the creature in was an open road. "I'm not strong, but I'm fast; I'll take my chances against one instead of the whole pack if I have to..."

Perhaps it was the wording of hiss, nothing translated perfectly to English but this, was the version used in term of cat's warnings, or maybe it was the comparisons he once more fought against making with him and Ripper, but with a snarl like noise he turned and continued stalking away.

The creature took that as an invitation, "Thanks." It plodded some distance away and behind him. "Thanks." Silence fell until it decided to speak again, "What happened to your clowder?"

Almost instinctively he snarled a warning to back off again, but once again the term used was in reference to the groups cats formed rather than the proper term and curiosity weighed heavily on him. A part nagged that before he wouldn't have hesitated to indulge it, cruelly dancing around the idea of why he did now.

     The creature did fall silent though, still a step or so behind yet at his side, and he did not interrupt the regained silence.

      The days continued to pass, but annoyingly, they felt much less painful now that the mutt, Goldilocks, joined him. The mutt, a golden retriever mix, had been named that as he was the lightest furred of his litter, the other three had various shades of brown fur and were named for the bears in the story, of course Goldilocks didn't know that bit of information about the name. The mutt was never very clear on how he ended up here though, and Chipper, Harry, didn't ask.

         It was obvious though, the friendly mutt didn't start out on the streets from everything about it starting with its demeanor.  And irritatingly so, he found himself hating the mutt less and less as time passed on. Consequently, he found himself adjusting more to this new form, finding it less and less despicable, even if he still longed to return to his days with Rosy, as a kitten himself.

"You move less like a cat now." Goldilocks commented one day as Chipper once more chased him from the day's catch. Goldilocks didn't know how to hunt, and Chipper took full advantage of that to eat his fill of whatever he caught first, and often took most of the good parts, although lately he found himself leaving some of those parts uneaten. It simply was dull to eat the same food all the time, and there wasn't much variety outside of chipmunks, squirrels, and the occasional bird or mouse. That was all.

Chipper growled disagreeably but quietly in distaste as he crunched down on a thicker bone, breaking it to reach the marrow inside with ease Goldilocks never managed.

"You move much easier like this, it's a compliment," Goldilocks whined, sniffing away at a tree root and snapping up some bugs as he waited, "I'm not so sure I'd be able to outpace you now."

He huffed in response and Goldilocks' tail wagged in response, long since having accepted wordless responses as the only responses he would get from the larger canine.

       Despite his stomach still wanting more, Chipper backed off the kill after finishing just slightly more than half, the pigeon was the only thing he had caught that day, food was becoming more scarce as the days grew shorter and colder. Goldilocks was hungry too, and he had learned from Rosy to share when supplies were possibly going to be limited. Of course then, it was only a question of an hour or so before the Sully's returned from their outing, but he liked to think these small actions prevented him from fully becoming like the creature that had taken Rosy away.

       Goldilocks made a delighted sound, tail wagging as he fell upon the remains, he bounded about Chipper for a moment after a few bites to express his thanks, but knowing he'd be warned away if he tried to come any closer.  Chipper never accepted close contact, he didn't like it, especially when it happened abruptly.

       The days were good, but still, as Chipper looked up to the cloudy sky and slowly becoming bare branches, he had to wonder how long it would last.