And here I go, following the Kitty King and walking into the lion's den. Well, not really a lion's den, more like...panther den? Although panther den doesn't sound that terrifying. How about panther king den, no panther pardus den, no he isn't a leopard he's a jaguar so that would be panther onca. No wait...I can't remember. Panthers is a general term for the spotted big felines, and the color of his fur is just because of...it starts with the letter 'M', melanoma? No no, melanoma is a skin disease, that's cancer. Oh my god what kind of rum did he give me? Not the cheap kind. Nope nope. If it was the cheap kind I would still be capable of having coherent thoughts. I like this rum though. Makes me feel all warm, makes me feel all fuzzy inside. Hehe fuzzy wuzzy was a bear, fuzzy wuzzy...something about hair? The point is, I was following my creator's nemesis, which I am fairly certain is a very dumb idea. Yet I am pretty sure this Tetradore is well aware that whatever happens to me here it won't really have an effect on Frost. Torture me or kill me, that blockhead wouldn't care if I was turned into glue or dog food...well in this case cat food. See, I knew it! I was going to turn into kitty kibble and bits, because here we are in a well-lit and polished kitchen, with his staff leaving, and no poor soul to hear my screams. Oh, apparently I'm not on the menu. Well this sure is a surprise, we're going to bake...something. Looking all over the kitchen I finally find the book, leaving my inquiry about it up in the air. So, best friend's girlfriend cooking them food, well that's all odd. Wasn't she supposed to be cooking for her boyfriend? With a shrug I gesture towards the beaten up cookbook, gesturing towards the color tabs and notes along the sides of the paper, with a grin.


"Well, with the way it looks like, I would assume she likes cooking? Although why is she cooking for you...is it a pack thing? And your best friend...he's the tall lanky one that speaks differently? He threw a shoe at me once, saying a 'caballo' wasn't welcomed here. Then this woman with scars all over her face got after him, and then some small Spanish guy kept poking me down the docks, telling me to leave or else I would be eaten."



I wasn't really bothered by getting threatened for being eaten. I mean, I guess I should accept that as a prey animal. Fear me prey for I am predator. Blah blah blah, kind of thing. I'm still knew to this whole species hate on species stuff. Although it wasn't until I overheard conversations in other hidey-hole places where Weres hang out that some big white horse attacked the pack that owned the west side. Well, that perfectly explained why I wasn't wanted. Thank you Frost for putting a target on my back, it's much appreciated you know. I have to admit though that male that threw a shoe at me as a wicked good arm, and I'm fairly certain if it wasn't for that woman with the messed up face, my own face would probably look just like hers. Not that I am a vain person or anything, but I don't really have that much going for me...and I really don't need my face all clawed and marked up. Although...it might make me appear tough...cause I actually need help in that department. Being all tall but willowy isn't good on the streets.



"We clean our hands and then start measuring and pouring the ingredients for the batter into the large bowl. So come on, hop off the counter and clean your hands."



Turning around and leaving him to do as I asked, make note, I did ask and not demand. I head on over for the dual-oven. Setting the heat to 350 Fahrenheit, I turn around grabbing the pan we're going to put the batter in and grease it up so it the cake won't stick to the pan, before setting it back on the countertop. Heading over to the opposite side of the kitchen, I clean my hands quick enough and dry them off a nearby clean towel. Grabbing the eggs I start cracking them over the bowl, where thankfully, Tetradore was already pouring some ingredients in. Pouring in some of the ingredients, that had yet to be open, I start measuring them with the measuring cups and pouring them into the bowl.



"So, what's it like being considered a 'King' and why did you choose to live in a huge cargo ship. Let me guess, you wanted to be close to the fish? Also, do you mind finding the mixer, if you can't I'll need you to stir and mix the batter."

Calliel Alosi

Now I'm Unbreakable, It's Unmistakable