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The wind wisped through the early autumn leaves that hung gingerly from a few trees, preparing to shed for winter. A kitten trotted outside, a grin across his cream muzzle, eyes sparkling like crackling flames, for he had just escaped the house through an open window. The wind roared and tugged at his soft, red fur as he made his way into the front yard. His large and curious green eyes scanned the landscape. The front yard was the same as it had always been, but with a touch of Autumn. A pool of rippling water lay across the yard's front flank, and a skinny willow hung over the front door, the leaves left on it's trunk flapping endlessly in the roaring winds. Only a few oranges lay on the ground now, for many of the oranges that had fallen from the orange tree had left it's shelter a long time ago, in Summer. Red let out a small, squeaky meow that was soon lost in the breeze. His eyes laid peacefully on an ivy bush ahead, beyond the pool of water, the orange tree, and the willow. It had been his birthplace, and he treasured it beyond all other things, for it made him feel warm. His mother, he suspected, was now with a new litter of kittens in the very bush. Red trotted away with his tail held straight in the air and chin up like an alpha would position himself. This did not bother the other cats. Red, they knew, meant well deep inside. He was a scamp, but boys will be boys. That, however, did not stand in the way of punishments. Red had a few streaks of scars down his forehead from a recent thwack delivered by Jasmine. He knew he deserved it. He always found the most amusing games in tagging or pouncing on his sleeping elders when they least suspected, and boy did he get a good beating after that one. But it was all worth it in his miscevious eyes. He snickered at the thought.

Where the alley and the neighborhoods collide, a small gray and white tabby was walking, a small bleeding cut over his right ear. He was used to being beat up, it was part of the so-called "alley-cat" life. He gazed longingly at a house he was passing by and wondered about his sibling, Seed. Was she alright? Had she found somewhere else to live? She was the runt of the family, and he always cared about his family. He turned again towards the yard in front of him, noticing the warm house, the fire in the fireplace. What would it be like to live in a place like that? He kept walking, past the house, towards the alley where he belonged, watching the ground underneath him as he walked.

What is that stinkin' furball up to now? Oscar growled to himself as he padded forward. He could smell Red on the breeze that came wafting lightly toward him, filling his nose with the dreaded smell of the kit. He rounded the corner to find Red, the kit's red hair puffed out like one of those yappy dogs that lived nearby. He purred slightly as he padded up behind him, reaching a paw forward to smack Red's bum.
"Wotcha up to now, yar liddle scamp?" He growled. He didn't much like the kitten, but it bugged him not to know what the hairball was doing at all times.

He stretched, luxuriously; the slow flowing of muscles seeming to start out of nowhere, or possibly merely the tip of his quivering whiskers, to descend slowly down his spine. The movement was like trickling treacle--it might not seem, at first glance, like one could move any slower than a yawning snail, but then you looked at Riff in the middle of a stretch and you thought 'never mind'. His paws trembled upon the ground, pads pressed firmly for stability; his tail fluffed itself out into a thick bristling duster of fur; his sharp claws, one half-broken off, dug gently into the soft rain-soaked soil about him. Finally, the housecat finished--housekitty, he thought, was something of an insult to him, kitty implying naivety and immaturity, of course, perhaps even cuteness--finally, Riff, snapping at the air in a quick yawn, arched his back delicately and pounced into his usual carefree strut.

Down, down, and down the path of the garden, the garden that should be all his, and suddenly the whiff of kitten came to Riff's flaring nostrils. Redford, he thought, most likely posturing as alpha once more And another cat, stinking gently of dusty fall-air and blood--who, Riff mulled, would have gotten into a fight recently, or was this cat not even a Housekitty? He wasn't sure, and felt abashed for it. Huffing gently to one side, the large cat stopped categorizing the nearby animals, choosing instead to allow his gaze to drag across the large puddle by the willow.

Then to the walk, to the front of the yard, where Red was--and Oscar.

Riff set himself down, gently, on the grass a few yards behind the Maine Coon, trailing paws, tails, ears (even) in the soft greenery in relaxation. Mock relaxation, he thought to himself wryly, as anyone who tried to pounce him or do him some other wrong would find out firsthand. His claws slid in and out and Riff allowed himself a quick cat-smile.

"Why, hello, Oscar," Riff drawled lazily, one eye blinking half-open to stare at the other Housekity. The tom rolled over with a quick flip, landing with his front paws spread out, crouching down on the ground -- rather like the position of a Sphinx, perhaps, only radiating somewhat less sandy majesty. His tail lashed back and forth, playfully--the cat was in a good mood today.

And nobody was going to spoil it, if they knew what was good for them.

"So...keepin' an eye on Red?" Riff questioned, sitting up a little--his head would not be far below Oscar's, if he could help it, or--in fact--much below anyone's. Unless he was feeling sleepy, he added to himself. Sleep could overrule all but the instinct for survival.

He cast a wayward glance, both eyes open now, at the she-cat off to the side, taking in her luxurious fur, before returning his gaze to the gruffOscar.

Riff laughed. "Ah'm sure he'll find somethin' to do," he slurred, allowing his vowels to drag on just the tiniest bit. "I hope so, anyway."

There needed to be more excitement, he thought to himself; things were starting to sit and simmer in the sluggish fall. At this rate, they'd be unprepared for winter.

((bleah...can't think of anything today =____=))

((Garg, I've been braindeaded for days... And today, I fell off of the horse I ride while going over a jump... He stopped at the third one and jerked sideways... xP))