hopefully I'll finish this ;w;'
———
The heavy scent of her housefolk, her food, her bed, her home... It overwhelmed her.
A little kitten mewed in terror as big, pink hands reached towards her and stroked her from her ears to her hindquarters. Why were housefolk so touchy? She'd heard her mother's stories of them, and had thought she was prepared for this day to come, thought she was ready to meet her new 'family', as her mother called it. But it was all so... so strange!
Her housefolk mumbled something, but her small ears couldn't pick apart the words. They scooped her up out of the fluffy bed she had been set in, and she wailed in protest. The air was cold, and the kit squealed as she was carried across the wide room.
The housefolk sat upon a big, dark bed-like thing, and stroked her back more. It made her wish to run, to escape their grasp, but she was still too weak to do so. They wrapped a blue sheet over her, and although the pressing thing made her long to move more, at least it warmed her up.
Her housefolk turned away their attention as a big ginger tabby tomcat leapt up and sat beside them. The kit mewled in fear.
"They've named you. Your called Nutmeg." the ginger tom flicked an ear, stretching his head to sniff her. She shied away and wailed, though knew this cat was her new denmate, and that she had to be friendly with him.
Nutmeg stared at him with wide eyes that hadn't yet shifted to their full color, recalling the former night when she'd been brought here.
She had been torn from her mother and siblings, forced into the cold paws of another housefolk, then another, then another, for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she'd been pushed into a large tunnel, which clattered like stones on the hard floor of her old home. Then, she was brought here, and set into a fluffy bed. The ginger tabby, named Jack, had curled up and slept next to her, nearly suffocating her in fur. It was a terrible night.
Nutmeg shuddered, mewling again. She was starving, missing her mother's milk and warmth. Where was her mother?
The housefolk seemed to notice her discomfort, for they hustled her onto the strange, long bed and hurried off to another room. Jack swept his tail over her spine and then hopped down, chasing after the housefolk with a rippling pelt.
Nutmeg shifted, wanting to wail out. But then they'll only fuss over me more, she told herself silently. Soon after, the housefolk—and Jack—returned to the room. The housefolk sat and lifted her back onto their lap, despite her mewls. They held a hollow, blue stone, with tiny brown pebbles scattered within it. Was she supposed to eat those?
Apparently she was, since the housefolk shook the hollowed stone, making an annoying rattle that made Nutmeg want to hiss.
Jack soon hopped back up beside them, shouldering her aside and dipping his head down, crunching the pebbles between his teeth. The housefolk didn't seem to like this, as they pushed him onto the hard floor and scooted Nutmeg back up.
The kit sniffed the brown pellets, watching Jack huff and storm out of the room with a big meow. Nutmeg reluctantly nibbled on one; it hardly compared to her mother's milk. It was hard and rough, not something she'd want to eat. But you have to, she told herself, and forcefully took another mouthful of the 'food'.
The housefolk ran their cold hand over her back again. She mewled, shifting in an attempt to appear menacing. It didn't work.
Nutmeg sniffed as they stroked her back more, the housefolk chirping mangled words to another, a different housefolk coming and sitting down. The two chattered like starlings as Nutmeg shifted sadly.
I just want my mother.
