Post by Pyre on Mar 10, 2008 16:00:14 GMT -5
The sunlight rested on Pyran's black fur. He thought he could feel it... warming his back and sending slight tremors down his spine as it shook off the cold on the outside and in. He must be coming back to himself...he could feel things again--really feel them. He could feel the power stemming from the collar around his neck start to fade. Given time his eyes might even go back to their original color. If Pyran didn't get himself shot or something as usual before then.
The cat was curled up on a high stone wall between two houses. He didn't know who's houses they were, didn't consider the fact that he was tresspassing.
A loud high-pitched scream pounded his ears. Pyran's eyes snapped open, his head lifted to look across the street. A little boy was screaming at his mom at the top of his lungs. He'd apparently just thrown a toy fresh from the box to the ground. His mother was business-looking, doing her best to ignore the kid's squealing that it wasn't the right toy or something stupid like that.
Pyran sighed. Idiots. He hated them. He even hated the kids! What was wrong with him? Kids did that. He must have done the same... Well, actually he'd been scared stiff to do anything of the sort if he remembered. His old man would have set him straight real fast.
The woman began a long-suffering apology to her mouse son when she looked up, her eyes locking on Pyran's. She suddenly seemed in a panic and was in a hurry to get her kid inside.
Pyran rolled his eyes. Whatever. She probably thought he was some creepy neighborhood stalker. His red eyes wouldn't be encouraging. And then there was the half-starved look carved into his frame, the torn and muddied clothes and the varios bandaging and scars. Yes, Pyran was sure he looked like a creep. The woman went inside, probably to call the police about a 'suspicious figure'--Pyran. Time to go then, right? Pyran reluctantly sat up on the wall, wishing he could stay out in the sun a little longer.
The cat was curled up on a high stone wall between two houses. He didn't know who's houses they were, didn't consider the fact that he was tresspassing.
A loud high-pitched scream pounded his ears. Pyran's eyes snapped open, his head lifted to look across the street. A little boy was screaming at his mom at the top of his lungs. He'd apparently just thrown a toy fresh from the box to the ground. His mother was business-looking, doing her best to ignore the kid's squealing that it wasn't the right toy or something stupid like that.
Pyran sighed. Idiots. He hated them. He even hated the kids! What was wrong with him? Kids did that. He must have done the same... Well, actually he'd been scared stiff to do anything of the sort if he remembered. His old man would have set him straight real fast.
The woman began a long-suffering apology to her mouse son when she looked up, her eyes locking on Pyran's. She suddenly seemed in a panic and was in a hurry to get her kid inside.
Pyran rolled his eyes. Whatever. She probably thought he was some creepy neighborhood stalker. His red eyes wouldn't be encouraging. And then there was the half-starved look carved into his frame, the torn and muddied clothes and the varios bandaging and scars. Yes, Pyran was sure he looked like a creep. The woman went inside, probably to call the police about a 'suspicious figure'--Pyran. Time to go then, right? Pyran reluctantly sat up on the wall, wishing he could stay out in the sun a little longer.