(Untitled)

Jan 16, 2010 00:34

Fear, patrons of Milliways, for a cat is stalking through the bar; in and out of chair- and table- and people-legs, a silent and deadly white shadow ( Read more... )

yrael, kate barlow

Leave a comment

Comments 85

olyabird January 16 2010, 05:44:09 UTC
There's a little brown owl perched on the unused pool table.

She's got the carcass of a mouse and is happily shredding it to bits, tipping her head back to flip the bits down her gullet.

Reply

mogget_cat January 16 2010, 05:48:43 UTC
The smell of blood makes the cat's nose twitch. Following it, he spies the bird.

The not'bird, he finds out as he stalks closer. Blast. Hmmmm.

Maybe if he acts quickly enough, they'll believe him that he didn't know beforehand that it was anything other than a genuine owl.

The cat slinks away through the forest of chair-legs towards the booths and the nearest route to the rafters.

Reply

olyabird January 16 2010, 05:54:11 UTC
She's lost in owl mind. The taste of blood in her mouth makes her forget she was ever human. It's savage and pure. And strangely comforting.

She tears another strip off flesh off the tiny carcass and gobbles it.

Reply

mogget_cat January 16 2010, 05:58:39 UTC
The white shadow slinks along one of the rafters, positioning itself as close to directly above the owl as possible. None of the rafters come really close to where the bird is perched, but he thinks he can make it.

Yeah, he figures as he crouches down, readying himself to pounce, he thinks he can make it. He'll just have to leap a bit stronger than usual to make it.

It's only when he's mid-pounce that he realizes that he's going to overshoot the mark by a couple of inches.

Reply


ikissdhimbck January 16 2010, 05:57:15 UTC
One patron, rendered quite incapacitated by her terror, watches the fearsome march of the tiny agent of death.

Clearly, the only way to defend oneself from such determined slaughter, is to offer up sacrifices of appeasement.

These manifest themselves tonight in the manner of a saucer of milk, which Kate sets on the floor with a quiet clucking, and a "Come here, handsome."

Clearly, she does not know what she is dealing with.

Reply

mogget_cat January 16 2010, 06:01:43 UTC
Clearly this is so. The compact killer eyes her, the green-eyed monster (that does, on occasion, mock the very meat it feeds upon) weighing her and her offering in its gaze.

Slowly, to emphasize that it does things very much on its own time, thank you very much human, it pads meanderingly towards the woman and the saucer of milk.

Reply

ikissdhimbck January 16 2010, 06:07:45 UTC
Kate's not one to rush someone of such clear import. She knows her place, after all; the mighty hunter might detect on her the scent and hair of other felines.

Yes, she's been trained.

"Who do you belong to, I wonder?" she murmurs aloud. "Such a pretty boy."

Reply

mogget_cat January 16 2010, 06:17:25 UTC
The cat eyes her as it wanders in a curved line towards the milk, its bearing practically noble. Arrogant, surely. There's no collar on its neck, though for those who know how to look, there are signs that there has been one there before. Worn too tight, for a long time.

Eventually, it reaches the milk, and dips its head to drink.

Reply


Leave a comment

Up