Thread:Roleplayy/@comment-39024013-20190607112231/@comment-36195412-20190609153605

Gray's ears pricked, and her strange green eyes lifted open. Bits of indecipherable memories drifted through her mind, but they were gone as soon as they appeared--and it wasn't as though Gray could recall much involving them. There were gray tabbies, like her. There was a black she-cat with anger issues. There was an obnoxious gray-black tom with moss tangled in his long tail who wouldn't stop screaming. With a bit of a shrug to herself, she shoved those thoughts away, standing.

"Mmmph? You called, Dova?" she mewed, blinking.

-

''The boy was warm, his hands clutching the small tom cat with love. He picked up the kitten and held him close to his heart, pleased by the purrs of contentment that rumbled off of it, and rubbed between the cat's ginger ears, whispering sweet phrases that held hardly any meaning to the animal, who didn't care.''

"Good kitty, Hunter. Good kitty..."

It was then that Hunta shifted in his peaceful lullaby of a dream, his eyes flashing open to what he was sure was a nightmare in hope's place. Flashes of memories went by so fast, he could hardly see them, but the pain of them was just enough.

The darkness of the hopeless, lost night. The pound. The cats. The escape.

My human--please--no--I'm just a good kitty, what did I do--

Hunta wasn't a pet cat anymore; no, he was just a stray in a group of other cats. He wasn't a pet, he was just a hunter trying to stay alive and bide his time until he could go home. Until he could find his human.

How he would give anything to be a good kitty again.