LITTLE WITCH❣️ FOOLISHGAMERS

48 | everywhere

┃ALL AROUND┃
*:･ﾟ✧*

LINDSEY'S NECK CRACKLES due to how swiftly she snaps her head up.

Tina immediately glances at her with wide eyes, mouth falling agape. "Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt!"

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Brooke pipes in, eyes straying from the book spread out on her thighs. She digs her toes further beneath Louis' stomach as he pants around a ball in his mouth. No matter how many times she'd tried to take it from him, he refused.

She eventually left it alone when Lindsey expressed the solid rubber ball was a comfort item to the pit-bull. Brooke felt bad afterwards, fed some some ham sandwich—with permission—and Louis forgot all about the monster trying to take his ball.

He'd plopped on her feet after she fed him. Opted for watching Fitz and Zero play fetch with Lindsey rather than playing.

Lindsey's eyes flit around a bush nearby. "That! Can you not hear that?"

She chucks the neon yellow tennis ball in her hand to the opposite end of the green-belt. Once the dogs have taken off after it, she runs over to the bush, dropping to her knees.

Tina giggles a comment out about her ass, smacks it, then squeals when Lindsey bats her away.

"Oh hi," she coos, bending onto her hands to peer into the underbrush.

Tina and Brooke glance at one another asking, "Is she okay?" with their eyes.

Lindsey continues to coo into the plant for a few more seconds before sitting up and back on her heels.

"Oh my goodness!" Tina exclaims. She walks over to her best friend on her knees, bending so her face is level with the all-black bundle of fluff curled up in Lindsey's palms. "Hi sweetie."

The kitten meows and rockets itself up Lindsey's sleeve. She half-laughs, half-awes in pity when it curls into the junction of her neck. Its claws dig into the fabric of her hoodie, only easing its grip when Lindsey soothes a knuckle over the matted fur on its head.

"I don't want it to come in contact with the dogs until I know it's fine with shots and stuff," Lindsey tells the girls as she stands. Just in time for Fitz to launch into her legs.

She stays rooted to her spot, though both hands go flying to her shoulder to catch the poor kitten.

"We'll stay with them if you wanna go," Brooke offers, closing her book.

Lindsey's up the hill and halfway up the driveway before her friends even blink. "Thank you!" she calls, chuckling when they throw playful insults of her ditching them like trash.

She has no doubt in her mind the girls will take care of the dogs and the dogs will watch after the girls.

Lindsey finds a jacket inside while retrieving her keys to wrap the kitten in, setting the ball of fabric and fluff on her front seat. The kitten meows weakly.

"I know honey, it's okay. We're gonna go get you some food." She keeps her voice soft, quiet; the voice she stores away, reserved for animals.

Approximately an hour and sixteen minutes later, the now fed, watered, bathed, and freshly up-to-date on shots kitten is gently dumped into Lindsey's awaiting hands. She thanks the doctor as she returns Binx—she had to name him after the black cat icon from Hocus Pocus—to her shoulder. He seems to approve of the spot, laying into her hand and smushing his small face against her neck.