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 Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2011 4:36 pm
It was Philomel's birthday today, but she wasn't doing very much for it. As usual, of course. Her mother had given her an extra hug and kiss in the morning, and she knew she would get a call from her father in the evening. He did it every year, and every year it was as long and as awkward as it had been every year before. She didn't have very much to talk about, and he always had a lot to tell her. For some reason.
Philomel's only tradition was getting a little cake for herself after school. It wasn't very much-- a chocolate Endymann's cake from Southern Poultry, a supermarket she passed on her way home. But it was tradition. It was also tradition for her to eat it before she got home, because it was her own little treat and she didn't want her mother teasing her for getting one. There was a nice out of the way area around the corner from Southern Poultry, with a couple of trees and some benches. The perfect place for an undercover snack.
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Posted: Tue Jan 04, 2011 8:02 am
The Cake Radar had gone off in the form of a sniffing velvety nose. It was most definitely cake. Most likely some variation of chocolate. Slipping out into view, two green eyes blinked as a girl approached the nearby bench, with a most scrumptious looking treat at hand.
The manx licked her maw. It was time for buttering up yet another person in the populous. Much like an obedient puppy, the pale feline rather casually began to trot towards the girl. In a pleasant tone, the cat then trilled out a kitty-greeting.
It's cake time, right?
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Posted: Mon Feb 28, 2011 6:21 pm
Philomel unboxed her cake, and then she heard a noise. She'd never seen a stray cat in the city before, but she knew the dangers of strays well: they could be dirty (not that this cat looked dirty), flea-ridden (it was a possibility), mistrustful of humans (but fond of processed cake? Something was strange), and possibly infected with other terrible diseases. Like rabies, or… well, she couldn't think of anything but rabies, but the point was this: strays are dangerous, Philomel, don't approach strange animals and expect them to be sociable. That's what she told herself, and she was sticking to it.
Or she would've, if the cat hadn't looked at her like that. If the cat hadn't made that noise, she'd have been fine. Philomel shoved a piece of cake in her mouth. Large and messy, but maybe starting to eat it would make the cat go away.
Sometimes, Philomel really wished that she actually was above the common weakness for cute animals.
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Posted: Wed Mar 02, 2011 1:20 pm
Despite this girl's attempts to ignore the feline, it was growing increasingly more difficult. The feline equivalent of puppy eyes were upon her, and every so often the cat swayed a little bit, just enough to cause that bell about her neck to lightly liven up the air.
As if protesting what this brunette just did (how could she eat cake like that in front of poor *********?!!), the feline cutely mewed out again. Without any hesitation, she finished up her journey by hopping up on the bench. Politely, she sat her haunches down, then resumed the green-kitty-eyes.
Sharing is caring!
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Posted: Fri Apr 08, 2011 1:39 pm
Maybe this cat wasn't a stray. She looked healthy and well-trained, and Philomel was a logical girl-- she knew cats couldn't put bells around their necks themselves. But then reason butted in, asking why anyone would let their cat roam freely behind a low-quality grocery store, and Philomel had to admit it to herself that it was pretty unlikely the cat before her wasn't a flea-ridden escapee from a loving home with tragically open windows.
Cringing and mentally apologizing to any possible cat gods, Philomel tried to shield her cake from the cat. Wasn't it harmful to feed wild animals? She clung to that factoid as justification. Strays counted as wild animals, didn't they?
Never mind that Philomel was pretty sure wild animals don't share park benches with strange girls.
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Posted: Sun Apr 10, 2011 3:19 pm
Apparently this level of proximity was not doing the trick. All this girl had done was hide the desired item. It was almost as if this brunette was trying to ignore her.
This was not acceptable!
Just try to ignore this! the cat mused as she lifted her haunches up, then padded quite plainly over to the girl. She was immediately next to the girl, but that was not where she was planning on stopping. Oh no, her paws continued to move forward, eventually going up the slight slope that was this girl's lap. It was only when she was in the exact middle of her lap that her haunches came down again.
Once more, kitty eyes were on the girl, and the adorable (yet pitiful) sounding mews escaped her.
You know you want to share with the kitty. You know you want to share with the kitty. You know you want to share with the kitty.
If only ********* had been born with the power of telepathic persuasion.
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Posted: Sat Apr 30, 2011 7:33 pm
To Philomel, the sudden realization that the cat was in her lap felt like a shock going through her bones. She was afraid to move for a moment. What should she do? Philomel tried to think.
First. The cat was a stray, an animal that Should Not Be Touched, lest the unsuspecting human get rabies and fleas. She knew that.
Second. There was a mewing stray cat on her lap. On her lap.
Third. Startling strange animals with claws and teeth was a bad idea. Philomel knew that too. Who knew what diseases strays carried?
Fourth. Being approached by a strange cat probably meant that it wanted food. That made sense to her, she supposed.
Philomel frowned. The cat didn't look hungry. She looked a little chubby, actually. Like she'd grown fat off mugging young girls after school for their lunches, perhaps. Sigh. Philomel glanced around once more to make sure she was really alone before speaking. "You're hungry, aren't you? I'm sorry, but chocolate isn't good for you."
Then Philomel felt really, really stupid. She should just throw the cake somewhere and make a run for it, right? Stupid cute cat.
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Posted: Mon May 02, 2011 11:34 pm
I'm not a dog the feline's mental voice whined sourly. ********* definitely had been able to eat plenty of things that would normally be considered "bad" for regular cats. She had yet to find something that had upset her stomach. Well, except for the occasional bout of overeating. That was something she could sleep off, or usually, waddle off.
However, there would be no waddling right now. ********* needed to up her game a bit. She would have nodded if it weren't for the fact she didn't want to startle this girl by seeming to understand her. So instead, she kept her hind legs firmly planted on the girl's lap, but lifted up her paws, clapping them together as if praying. She wiggled those paws a bit and let out a few more pitiful mews.
Chocolate cake is good for kitty!
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