Hi, I'm "The Cat", in fact, I don't have a name... I've had a dark past I never speak of...
The cold cement concrete of an alleyway withered through my paws, with the snow on the ground, it didn't help. White, cotton fluffy clouds indicated it was to snow later...
Great...just great....
Sighing, I trot quicker. But, of course, not unnoticed. "what a beautiful pelt she's got, huh Greg?" I jumped in surprise, seeing a man step from the shadows, a rifle in hand. "And the money's such a pretty price!" Another man came from behind with a bat. Terror. Pure terror consuming me, in and out.
Am I to die here? But I'm too young!
As the men cornered me, a gruff voice spoke from behind them. "But who would want a blood covered pelt hanging on their wall?" The men turned away from me and fled in terror themselves, but the gruff voice seems to knock them unconscious anyway. Right there infront of me were two large toes, slowly but surely I saw my saviors' face. His eyes shown something odd I couldn't make out in the distance. I quickly started reaching into my travel bag that laid on my back, shuffling through it for the old device I call the Translater. But by the time I got it out, my savior was slowly starting to walk away. "*Wait!*" came the sudden translation that's voice cracked terribly but smoothly, but it stopped him. He froze instantly. But he slowly turned my way. "*Th-thank you, you saved my tail there... in return... how can I repay you..?*" Orange eyes gleaming with rejoice and question. My savior thought a bit, concerning me ever so slightly. "Meet me here every four nights." At that he vanished. I smiled softly to myself before picking the Translater up and putting it away in my bag before continuing my search for a good den I could use or someplace warm I could stay, and, hopefully, nearby.
After a minute, I round a curve in the alley where it has a few escape roots but a lot of snow. I find a good place to dig a small den for a night or so. After awhile, set up as done and I laid out an old rag to sleep on with another rag and a small pillow a child lost in the snow. I curled up, a rag on me a along with another bellow with a pillow under my head. A dream as beautiful as the sunset and as kind as my savior.
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Gently, (Illegal)ly, (Fierce)ly in (Love)
Teen Fiction"Kill, or be killed" was the motto of the wild, of every single animal, except, maybe, one. After watching her parents die and trapped before experimented on, she chose not to be corrupt and was nice. One day, the pound found her on a stroll. but ev...
