Patience of a Gordon

Alternate Beginning

So when I first started this story, the below is what I wrote. It was completely different than how it turned out. There were so many problems with this idea though, that I decided to attempt a different route, although I'm still fond of this so I may use it for an entirely different idea. 

The room was quite silent, excluding the mewing that resonated throughout the house. They all awaited his response or a scolding for doing something so irresponsible. When he finally sighed, they all tensed, expecting the worst.

"Someone please explain to me what it is."

Marl bowed before nodding his head, his words quickly rushed. "She is a cat Mr. Gordon, a cheetah specifically. Judging by her responsiveness to us, she's a shifter." He stood up once he finished only for Mary to add on to his words.

"Oh please Mr. Gordon, don't kill her. She is but a kit and can be trained. She's injured from the werewolf trap set up. Please don't hurt her!" She begged, her hands generously clasped together. The others nodded in agreement, pitying the mewing kitten that was on the table.

"I asked you to capture a werewolf for me and this is what I receive? A cat with the inability to even fend for herself," Mr. Gordon said, shaking his head. Why couldn't he have winded up with hunters as sufficient as his brother's? Instead, his hunters were begging him for what would be a house pet.

"I want nothing to do with this, do you understand? She will be killed once her identity is found," Mr. Gordon said, his voice holding a warning in hopes they would throw the unnecessary cat out. But of course, it wouldn't work so easily for him.

"Yes Mr. Gordon. It is understood. We'll keep her out of sight," Marl replied, sweeping up the mewing kitten who only cried louder. Mary cooed to her and Marl swayed her from side to side, but neither tactics worked.

Mr. Gordon looked at them, closing his eyes as he realized that they would be traveling down a long road.

(This would've been Chapter One below)

Today, I had officially determined that humans were odd creatures. They were overdramatic and did things that were needless when they could be conserving their energy and time for things much more important.

Currently, I sat in the dining room, watching as they scurried to and fro, setting plates and silverware on the table. They called it decorating, but it was needless. Cayne wasn't likely to appreciate, or even notice, their efforts when he got home. He would be tired, not in need of decorating.

"Is dinner almost ready?" Mary called, carefully fixing the dishes so they would be in the precise place she wanted them.

"I'll ask the chef!"

Mary caught my eyes on hers and she gave me a warm smile. Humans may have been odd, but they were also kind. Mary happened to be one of my favorites out of the few I had become accustomed to.

I walked over to her, my tail swinging lazily in the air.