hell cat [ open ]

[aero ❥]

church

crash! The sound of glass hitting the floor set off a chain reaction of noise. A scream of rage, thunderous thump thump thumps, more things falling onto the floor. Two bright amber eyes and a shadowed face stuck out from under a coffee table, looking around wildly. Suddenly the entire table lifted, dust dispersing into his face an a sudden rush of air against his white pelt made him look up into the angry eyes of a woman. "You damned beast!" She screamed, reaching down to snatch him up by his neck. Darting out of her path, he jumped onto the lacey curtain ahead, franticly clawing his way up to the tall window above. thump thump thump She was coming! Moving faster, he felt the heat and fury coming off her in waves right behind him. Sinking his claws into the polished oak sill, he heaved himself up and plummeted down to safty out the other side. He could her her slam the window shut, cursing as she did so. Why did she care so much about a piece of wood anyway? She was as mad as one of the crows that roosted in abandoned house down the street! Pelting down the long strip of ashphalt and into a dark alley nestled between two quiet homes, he took a moment to rest and review.

The woman had been angry because he had chewed on her sticks. Well, stick thing. He wasn't sure what it was. A short stick crossed over a long stick sort of. Well, it tasted bad anyway, so who cares, right? Church crouched into a delightful stretch, claws flexing as he did so. The muscles under his white pelt rippled, showing off to the metal trashcans and plastic bags that were lines against the walls. Feeling refreshed, he padded along, avoiding the puddles that had collected during one of the light spring showers. What would he do today? He had plenty of time on his paws since he couldn't go back to his nest until late tonight. Maybe he would travel deeper into the city, explore some new streets?

Reaching a dead end, he casually leaped on a dumpster, to a box, and then braced himself for the impact as his paws met the shingles of a roof. Claws unsheathed, he picked his way across, clearing the drop of another alley as he jumped rooves. He preferred to travel this way, avoiding any stray dog encounters and the unfriendly cats that lived in some of the narrow 'back streets'. He wasn't scared of them, (well, most of them) he just didn't always want a fight. Carrying on this way for quite some time, he glanced down into a garden, spotting a bird perched on a branch of a pine. It was still, huddled into its own feathers. Was it sleeping? He'd never seen a bird sleep. Quietly approaching, the roof edge was close to the branch, not less than a foot away. It was even almost level. Alright, looks easy. I can just jump on him! He wont know whats coming... Easing his way down the grey slippery surface, he crouched, hind legs quivering in anticipation. Idle, his tail had risen and was flicking about, alerting another bird higher in the tree. "Damn you!" He yowled, pouncing onto the bird. So close to death, the bird took a nose dive and then swoop up, flying away into the distance. Not as lucky, the white tom found himself clinging to the rough bark, swinging wildly with the flimsy branch. So he had misjudged the strength of it, okay. Now what was he going to do?!

Feeling his claws begin to slip from their hold, his teeth grinded together. This is it....I have to be at least 20 feet off the ground...goodbye cruel world! His thoughts echoed in his head as a sickening snap sent him and the branch falling. A bloody screech of sheer horror escaped him, his eyes tightly shut as he expected to meet the hard, cold ground and splatter. Dead. Before his jaws could shut from the screech, he hit the grass with an oof! His eyes slowly opened finding their sight steadied on the looming tree above. The fall had only been about ten feet, nothing more than enough to knock the air out of him. He lay there, limp, relief flooding his body. All he could think of was never pouncing on sleeping birds again.

SIMPLICITY IS MY GREATEST COMPLICATION

[Dusk]

The old wooden slats were soft and mushy underneath his paws; rotten, or at least rotting after years of disuse. They groaned ominously under the weight of the tabby tom balancing precariously on top of the narrow, jutting shelf. A pair of brilliant copper eyes glowed from the uneven shadows; narrowed and staring at the floor beneath him with a mixture of fear and frustration. Their stare was locked on the snarling form of a black and white -well, what would be white were it not for the filth collected on its matted fur- dog. The canine glared upwards at its quarry, lips pulled back over pink gums in a furious snarl; it released a constant stream of growls, barks, and whines. As if the sheer volume of the noise the beast made would be enough to knock the feline from his perch.

Loon hissed and spat back at the dog just as readily. He let loose his own monologue of vented frustrations; aimed at just about anything at this moment. At the dog for chasing him here, at the humans who'd built this accursed building with only the small shelf within easy leaping range, at the city for simply existing. Although strangely out of character for the tom, he couldn't care less; at this very moment the cat was tired and achy, just wanted to be anywhere else.

How had he even gotten himself into this situation? Ah yes, dumpster diving -or rather trash picking. In an alleyway just outside of a building full of noisy humans, there'd been many of the silver cylinders carelessly filled with all manner of good -though half-eaten- food. Easily enough for a multitude of cats. Apparently the dog who made residence in that alley thought otherwise. And so the chase had ensued, the piebald canid chasing him relentlessly; Loon had assumed the dog would be stupid and be easy to loose in the maze of streets and alleys that comprised Trenton. It seemed, though, that the dog badly wished for fresh meat over less choice cuts.

Now cornered in this old, abandoned building the cat inwardly bewailed his fate. It seemed this would not turn out to be a simple waiting game, if this dog had already been stubborn enough chase him this far. In fact, the tabby imagined he could already feel the old planking beginning to give way beneath him. Loon inhaled deeply, resigned to his fate but unwilling to go out without a long list of expletives to aid him on his way. Just as he was about to yowl, he froze, listening carefully. Indeed a few seconds later a human -yelling angrily- stomped its way through the ancient doorway and vented its fury on the now hapless dog on the floor. With it's poor vision the human failed to notice Loon in the shadows, all its focus fixed on the black and white dog - which it now kicked brutally in the hindquarters. The dog ran, tail held low, and now yelping pitifully. The human made its way out of the building more slowly, while Loon swelled with jubilation at his good luck.

The withheld breath meant for a yowl was now released as a happy sigh. The tom was most certainly not going to be any dog's lunch this day. Hopefully not any day. With a grunt, the young feline leapt down from the sagging wood and landed with a small thud; he stretched luxuriously, happy to work out all of the kinks in his back and shoulders that had formed during his time dealing with the dog. With only mildly stiff steps, Loon padded out of the building, kicking up a small amount of dust in the doorway's general direction as he did so. After the general darkness of the building, sunlight blinded him. With watering eyes, the tom contemplated what he should do with the rest of his day while he waited for his vision to clear. The ordeal with that disgusting canine had gotten in the way of a meal, the cat was still hungry; there was no way he planned on returning to the alleyway with the food. Maybe the gardens would have some plump finches or squirrels.

Happy with the thought, the cat started off in the general direction of the smaller houses. He had just turned the corner of a long row of fences when a bloodcurdling screech rattled the inside of his ears. Dread filled the tabby, and his thoughts flew immediately to the dog. Had it found another cat to hunt after its less successful attempt. Copper eyes wide, the tom broke into a dead run and soon spotted the prone form of a white cat on the grass. There was no sign of a dog, no smell of blood either. Even so Loon called out when he was a few feet away, "H-Hey! Are you all right?" It was a fairly dumb question, but Loon asked it anyways as skidded to a stop in front of the white cat.