Quote:
You've signed up for a Secret Santa this year, be it in a hobby group, school, work, or just in your circle of friends. You've received a name and a small index card's worth of information about their likes and dislikes, so it's time to go shopping for them! Or, maybe you're receiving your own present? Was this a good idea or just extra holiday stress?
Secret Santa.
It was such a bizarre concept, but she couldn't resist - it was just so homey and nice. Sylvia eyed the array of alleycats nervously arrayed before her, and sighed irritably. They would have to do. She hadn't really made many friends since her awakening in Destiny City.
These fleabags were the best she'd got.
"Okay, morons. Did you bring the stuff? Remember who you're paired with. SUSAN, STOP TRYING TO BITE THOMAS."
Susan, who only knew she was being referred to because of the caustic glare being issued in her direction, yowled plaintively. She was a scrawny, pathetic thing, especially compared to the pampered bulk of Thomas sitting next to her. Her cat brain could not understand why the thing before her sounded like People but looked like a regular alleycat.
"Thomas, why don't you go first."
The massive orange tom sauntered forward, tinkly bell on his collar accenting his movements. He approached a slinky silver tabby and dropped a half-eaten catnip toy in front of it.
The other cat blinked solemnly.
They were underneath a streetlamp-lit causeway, a place littered with garbage and occasionally a few humans who were down on their luck. Sylvia had chased them off before gathering her unwilling participants. She blinked expectantly at the lot, eyes luminous in the dark.
"Well done, Thomas. Who was his Secret Santa? Don't be shy, his owners are probably wondering where he's gotten off to."
Susan, who still had no idea what was going on besides the fact that Sylvia had very nearly dragged her here with her teeth, a process she did not want to repeat, hesitantly stepped forward-
and proceeded to scratch herself. Sylvia could almost see the fleas leaping from her fur to that of the well-groomed housecat.
"That's uh. Some gift you got there. Ok, Raoul, you next." The silvery tabby dragged the dead pigeon it'd come with over to another cat in the circle, who recieved it with some measure of enthusiasm. Several of the other cats crowded around it, and began to eat. Raoul moved away to bat suspiciously at the used catnip toy.
"Now, wait - hold on - I said hold on, we aren't done-" but before Sylvia could finish the sentence, one of the cats hissed at the others, a clear indication of a lack of any Christmas spirit whatsoever, as it proceeded to stand over the past-tense pigeon. Mine, his posture indicated.
That was all it took. Within a few seconds, what once had been a tense but surprisingly organized gathering of alleycats had turned into a series of standoffs and all-out brawls. Some slunk away into the shadows hissing, while others, like Thomas, immediately fled back to the safety of domestication.
Sylvia gazed into the distance.
"I don't know what I expected." Her eyes fell on the discarded catnip toy, and she daintily procured it. A consolation prize for her efforts.
It turned out, being a cat did not make you any better at herding cats.
