ezra4

Posted on May 07, 2014 by ezra

This night, the Hunt had been successful, and the leather satchel clutched between my jaws was now filled with plunder from my most recent escapade. Anacosta Heights always proved a fruitful venture, and tonight had been no different.

The gawdy Social Elite of the big city were often gone between the hours of 9 and midnight, off cavorting with their wealthy neighbors, attending plays or extravagant galas or out showing off their newest sports car at the dance clubs in town. It gave me ample time to slip out of my Woman-skin and become the Ghost Cat.

The legends and lore of my were-skin had always been among one of my favorite childhood fables. A cat that could never be seen unless it purposely wished to be so... One so rare and elusive that for many years it had gone unrecognized by science, and only existed in the tales told by monks and Russian hunters that had spent their entire lives in the frigid wildernesses far beyond the scope of modern western society. The Ghost Cats, we were called; for we were known to sneak in and out of villages entirely undetected until long after we were gone with whatever prize we'd come seeking. Usually the local livestock... and I had adopted the title whole-heartedly from the time I made my first change during that turbulent span of my tween years when puberty hit.

But I had little use for sheep or goats as my feral counterparts. It was all too easy to slink through the shadows of the suburbs, creeping over rooftops and slipping through unlatched windows. It didn't take much to avoid security systems or disarm them. Even if one did sound, I would be long gone before police arrived to investigate...and the benefits were well-worth the risk. My loot was comprised of gold chains and exquisite jewels, rare coins, platinum credit cards and other various finery. But for tonight, the cream of my crop came as a relic of grand antiquity. A Short Sword, probably from the 16th or 17th century, hand forged of tempered steel and adorned in silver and gold filigree. It even still had it's scabbard!

silver platinum bodice slipped through pools of shadow and shafts of moonlight with a lethal, elegant grace. Paws expand like snowshoes over the mulchy earth, muffling each meticulously placed step to a finite silence that only a cat, a preternatural cat, could ever hope to accomplish.

Hidden deep in the heart of the forest, well beyond the outskirts of the city, was base camp. It wasn't much, but I'd discovered some time ago an old dilapidated cabin, well more of a shanty really. It was a one room hovel, no electricity or plumbing. Just a small wood-burning stove in the corner and a loft area that served as a comfortable bedding area. The small structure was in terrible disrepair, with multiple holes in the roof where water fell through every time it rained, and squirrels and birds often wandered in and out at their leisure. But I was not concerned. It might have been a hovel ready to fall apart, but it was My Hovel. All mine. And it was Safe.

This was my refuge from the grit of the concrete jungle. My haven from the smog and the crowds. There was no one here but me and the birds and deer and critters. As far as I was concerned, this was My Territory, and I'd defend it with my life. Besides, I've faired far worse... and once I'd acquired enough plunder, I'd put it to good use and set myself up with a comfortable place to live. And not some ghetto apartment this time. Not some dark alley where guns and sirens are the sounds you go to sleep to at night. I'd get myself a nice cottage, somewhere in a comfortable neighborhood. A place where you didn't have to lock your car doors or even your house at night. Someplace, where all the children play hopscotch and dodgeball in the streets and everyone knew their neighbor's name.

I've never been a child of priviledge. My mother could never provide that kind of lifestyle with her self destructive and self-serving ways. As a result, I was more inclined to live in the manner of my were-skin... out in the forest, far from human eyes and human drama. It had crafted me into something feral...more animal then human. In my thirty years of life I'd spend more then half of it cast away like a lost child. A pirate who took what she needed but no more. A Cat who honed her hunting prowess and tested the limits of her skills on a day to day basis.

My cabin was situated in the lee of a small rocky bluff, only about 20 feet in height, and I moved along the top ridge towards the backside of the structure, where a small cave was hidden in the slate face of the stone. Inside was my cache. My own personal Cave of Wonders. Slipping into the blackness of it's depths, my cat's eyes shone silver-blue. The cave was already nearly half full, the entire back alcove lined in piles of silver and gold, satin and silks and all manner of coins and currency. I'd take anything that would be of value... but my most favored treasures were those that were antiques... such as my newly axquired short-sword. Setting the bundle down upon the ground, I closed my cat's eyes and Willed myself back into my Human body. Bare naked flesh of alabaster complexion swiveled and fell into a cross-legged sitting position in the cave. I ransacked my bundle, tossing aside all but the sword. Hand gripped the pummel gingerly...delicately and not without some hesitation. My power was not one I could easily control, and the moment fingertips clasped the handle, a torrent of memories flooded my mind. Every hand this sword had changed came racing into my head. Visions of faces and places, cars and carriages and ships... of places faraway before guns had ever been invented and Man still conducted themselves with barbarism and chivalry... right down to the very swordsmith who'd crafted the Blade with the blood and sweat of his own two hands. And this blade was no innocent. It's steel was tainted in the blood of victims, and I can see their final expressions as if I'd witnessed the assaults first-hand.

With a breathy gasp, I set the blade gingerly against the cave wall. Even after all this time, it was still an overwhelming sensation to handle. "You've had a long and trying journey, my new friend..." I spoke gently, skimming the edge of the blade with the tip of my nails. I was about to start organizing my other finds into their appropriate piles, when faint voices began to echo through the portal of my cave.

Ears pricked to attention immediately, auburn hair whipping to one side in wild ringlets as head turns towards the entrance in alarm. Someone was here, in my forest! Humans probably, but what were they doing so far from the city? I could not afford to be discovered, not even my cabin hideaway. For one horrifying moment I wondered if someone had somehow managed to track me back from my hunting grounds. Quickly stashing my loot bag, I walked back to the precipice of my cave, looking out over the roof of my cabin to the forest beyond.

The voices were more distinct now, and I was certain there were at least two, if not three. Lips part, tongue and delicate palette tasting the night air. Vertical pupils refract a notch in surprise. The potent musk of cat wafted through the breezy night air, tantalizing my senses and sending my inner leopard into a near frenzy. Primal Instinct immediately jumps to thoughts of whether these intruders were hostile or not... they were here in an area I've claimed for myself... and I've left enough markings in the area to advertise as such. Either way, I could not allow them to remain without further investigation.

A couple running steps and I'm air-born, freefalling from the ledge of the cave like a seasoned acrobat, changing in mid-air to land upon all fours in a deep crouch beside the cabin. Skirting around it wide, long leonine plume lashes like a whip about my haunches in feline agitation. Round ears flick to and fro, honing in on the source of the voices and I slip into the darkness of the dense forest timbers. I knew this forest very well by now, almost as well as the back of my paws... and it didn't take much to single out the trio and circle around behind them.

When finally the group came into view they'd already donned their animal bodies. Two large males, both in their prime and looking as though they could easily pose a formidable threat if they were looking to take over or force me to a fight. I was confident in my ability to defend my home from a single adversary.. but here I was outnumbered and I was not so foolish to think I could take on three at a time. The third was a female, several years younger and almost child-like still. Jaws set, whiskers twitching dubiously as I contemplated what course of action I should take. Mayhap they were just hunting, passing through for the night as many of the Were-wolves of the city so often do. But if they weren't then they were a big liability in more ways then one...

I crouched, belly dusting the ground as I stalked forward. I crawled with the meticulous patience of a seasoned hunter, slinking beneath brush and bracken to get as close to the group as I dared without being detected. Should I reveal myself to them? Try and ward them off before they discovered my hide-out?

I waited and watched with baited breath to see what they might do.

((Sorry, still trying to develop her character. ^_^))

~Of The Feline Persuasion ~ Runs with No Pride ~ My King Cat Daddy~ 30 Lives Lived~ My 6th Sense is Biographic Aptitude ~ "Speaks Like This"

Piccy (c) Trynxie @ Deviantart.com

get yourself pixel perfect

HTML Testing

ezra4

Replies

Post Reply