Disclaimer: I don't own CATS- (well, actually I own two, but they're not of
the musical sort) rights and all that jazz belong to RUG, ALW, TSE, etc. So
don't sue. Unless you want some toenail clippers and other assorted junk.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
More Than Just Beauty
"It's ok, she's alright." The voice was -or seemed- distant; it was fuzzy, yet comforting. Who was it?
"A girl, then? What about the other one?" There were two voices; the second was closer, and sounded out of breath.
The first voice spoke again. "He- didn't make it. I'm sorry." She was sad. Why was she sad?
"Well, do with it what needs to be done then, Jenny. I'll take this one." So the first voice was Jenny.
The kitten could feel the teeth of the owner of the second voice -apparently it was mother- grip around her neck. Half of her body was lifted from the ground when Jenny spoke again. "She needs milk before-"
The second voice sounded agitated. "Right, right." The kitten was returned to the ground. She was hungry and quickly found her way to food. When she reached it, she drank greedily.
"What are you going to do?" It was Jenny again. The kitten liked her- she sounded very sweet, probably a good mother. But she wasn't mother; the second voice was. The kitten liked her too, she was warm and smelled good. And she had milk.
"I don't know. Take care of her. It is my duty, isn't it?" Mother sounded less upset now, but strangely weak.
"She needs a name."
"Why don't you name her, Jenny? I can't do it."
"You're her mother. All of your kittens have had fine names."
"You and Jellylorum named most of them. And I'm just too. . .tired."
"Well. . .how about. . ." The kitten stopped drinking for a moment. She was about to get a name. "Jemima?"
Mother sighed. "Jemima, yes. You see, you've always been good at naming."
Jenny laughed. "The naming of cats is a difficult matter," she said, then grew serious again. "Are you going to be alright? You look-"
"I'll be fine." But she didn't sound fine. "You go home. You've got your own kittens to worry about." She chuckled weakly. "How are Electra and Tumblebrutus doing?"
"They're fine. You two rest; I'm going back. Goodnight." The kitten could here soft footsteps receeding into the background.
Mother sighed again. "Jemima. Oh, what am I supposed to do with a kitten?" She stood, and the kitten felt herself being lifted again. She could do with some more milk. . . Jemima. She had a name. She continued to think about it as she dangled from Mother's teeth, traveling someplace. She began to grow sleepy, and her eyes started to droop. She wasn't hungry anymore, just tired and happy to have her name. Jemima.
*****
Jemima awoke, opening her eyes and seeing the world for the very first time. It was sunny, and piles of junk rose up around her on all sides. She was warm. . .but not the right kind of warm. She had been wrapped in a blanket. Where was mother?
She sat up and looked around. There was junk everywhere, but there didn't appear to be another cat for miles around.
"I'm hungry." Jemima whimpered to herself. "What am I gonna do?" She decided to give in to her instincts, and started mewing as loudly as her little voice would allow.
After what felt like ages, Jemima gave up. She was going to starve, she knew it. She was too little to just get up and find her own food. She didn't even know what food was. . . besides milk.
A cold wind picked up. Jemima could do nothing but curl up in her blanket and try to stay warm. By now, she'd given up hope. She knew good and well that she was too small to stand an inkling of a chance out there, alone with no survival skills whatsoever (she may have been born the day before, but she wasn't stupid). She'd probably die. . .but at least she was warm enough, for now.
Just as she was about to fall asleep -or pass out, one of the two-, Jemima heard someone talking. It was a deeper voice; she'd never heard anything like it. Then again, she'd never heard much at all. It was singing.
". . .the Jellicle moon is shining bright. . ."
The voice was getting closer. What was a Jellicle moon?
". . .Jellicles come to the Jellic- huh?" The singing stopped, and Jemima heard footsteps. Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted off the ground, and the blanket was pulled back from her head.
"Heaviside! What are you doin' out here, little one? Let's get you t' the junkyard, where it's safe." An orange and white face looked down at Jemima, green eyes meeting her brown ones. "Jenny'll know what t' do."
*Jenny? I know Jenny.* The tiny queen mewed, happy and relieved. This orange guy was nice, and he knew Jenny too.
"I'm Skimbleshanks. Skimble t' you, little one." Jemima let out a soft, kitten-like giggle. Skimble talked funny. But that didn't matter, because she knew he and Jenny would keep her safe.
*****
Jemima had fallen asleep, but when she awoke she was inside. . .something. She heard noise in the background- and Jenny! Jenny was talking! Jemima mewed so the old queen would know she was up.
"Well, I was beginning to wonder when you would wake, darling." Jenny smiled. "You must be starving."
"You- you're Jenny."
"Well, yes dear, I am." The old queen looked surprised as she placed a dish of cream near Jemima. "How did you know that?"
"You were there. . ." She slowly began drinking the cream. "I remember your vioce."
"Well, I never. Skimble, she remembers me!"
Skimbleshanks walked in, fastening a bell to his collar. It tinkled a bit, and Jemima giggled.
"Like the bell, do you?" He turned to Jenny. "Have you seen my watch around?"
"The way you run those trains, I was sure you were so organized." The adults laughed. "Under you're blanket, I'm sure." Skimbleshanks exited. "Skimble rides on trains. They're big fast things that carry humans far distances. Would you like more cream, Jemima?"
"No, thank you." Jemima liked Jenny very much. She was right- Jenny was a very good mother. Which remined her. . ."Where's Mother?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
More Than Just Beauty
"It's ok, she's alright." The voice was -or seemed- distant; it was fuzzy, yet comforting. Who was it?
"A girl, then? What about the other one?" There were two voices; the second was closer, and sounded out of breath.
The first voice spoke again. "He- didn't make it. I'm sorry." She was sad. Why was she sad?
"Well, do with it what needs to be done then, Jenny. I'll take this one." So the first voice was Jenny.
The kitten could feel the teeth of the owner of the second voice -apparently it was mother- grip around her neck. Half of her body was lifted from the ground when Jenny spoke again. "She needs milk before-"
The second voice sounded agitated. "Right, right." The kitten was returned to the ground. She was hungry and quickly found her way to food. When she reached it, she drank greedily.
"What are you going to do?" It was Jenny again. The kitten liked her- she sounded very sweet, probably a good mother. But she wasn't mother; the second voice was. The kitten liked her too, she was warm and smelled good. And she had milk.
"I don't know. Take care of her. It is my duty, isn't it?" Mother sounded less upset now, but strangely weak.
"She needs a name."
"Why don't you name her, Jenny? I can't do it."
"You're her mother. All of your kittens have had fine names."
"You and Jellylorum named most of them. And I'm just too. . .tired."
"Well. . .how about. . ." The kitten stopped drinking for a moment. She was about to get a name. "Jemima?"
Mother sighed. "Jemima, yes. You see, you've always been good at naming."
Jenny laughed. "The naming of cats is a difficult matter," she said, then grew serious again. "Are you going to be alright? You look-"
"I'll be fine." But she didn't sound fine. "You go home. You've got your own kittens to worry about." She chuckled weakly. "How are Electra and Tumblebrutus doing?"
"They're fine. You two rest; I'm going back. Goodnight." The kitten could here soft footsteps receeding into the background.
Mother sighed again. "Jemima. Oh, what am I supposed to do with a kitten?" She stood, and the kitten felt herself being lifted again. She could do with some more milk. . . Jemima. She had a name. She continued to think about it as she dangled from Mother's teeth, traveling someplace. She began to grow sleepy, and her eyes started to droop. She wasn't hungry anymore, just tired and happy to have her name. Jemima.
*****
Jemima awoke, opening her eyes and seeing the world for the very first time. It was sunny, and piles of junk rose up around her on all sides. She was warm. . .but not the right kind of warm. She had been wrapped in a blanket. Where was mother?
She sat up and looked around. There was junk everywhere, but there didn't appear to be another cat for miles around.
"I'm hungry." Jemima whimpered to herself. "What am I gonna do?" She decided to give in to her instincts, and started mewing as loudly as her little voice would allow.
After what felt like ages, Jemima gave up. She was going to starve, she knew it. She was too little to just get up and find her own food. She didn't even know what food was. . . besides milk.
A cold wind picked up. Jemima could do nothing but curl up in her blanket and try to stay warm. By now, she'd given up hope. She knew good and well that she was too small to stand an inkling of a chance out there, alone with no survival skills whatsoever (she may have been born the day before, but she wasn't stupid). She'd probably die. . .but at least she was warm enough, for now.
Just as she was about to fall asleep -or pass out, one of the two-, Jemima heard someone talking. It was a deeper voice; she'd never heard anything like it. Then again, she'd never heard much at all. It was singing.
". . .the Jellicle moon is shining bright. . ."
The voice was getting closer. What was a Jellicle moon?
". . .Jellicles come to the Jellic- huh?" The singing stopped, and Jemima heard footsteps. Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted off the ground, and the blanket was pulled back from her head.
"Heaviside! What are you doin' out here, little one? Let's get you t' the junkyard, where it's safe." An orange and white face looked down at Jemima, green eyes meeting her brown ones. "Jenny'll know what t' do."
*Jenny? I know Jenny.* The tiny queen mewed, happy and relieved. This orange guy was nice, and he knew Jenny too.
"I'm Skimbleshanks. Skimble t' you, little one." Jemima let out a soft, kitten-like giggle. Skimble talked funny. But that didn't matter, because she knew he and Jenny would keep her safe.
*****
Jemima had fallen asleep, but when she awoke she was inside. . .something. She heard noise in the background- and Jenny! Jenny was talking! Jemima mewed so the old queen would know she was up.
"Well, I was beginning to wonder when you would wake, darling." Jenny smiled. "You must be starving."
"You- you're Jenny."
"Well, yes dear, I am." The old queen looked surprised as she placed a dish of cream near Jemima. "How did you know that?"
"You were there. . ." She slowly began drinking the cream. "I remember your vioce."
"Well, I never. Skimble, she remembers me!"
Skimbleshanks walked in, fastening a bell to his collar. It tinkled a bit, and Jemima giggled.
"Like the bell, do you?" He turned to Jenny. "Have you seen my watch around?"
"The way you run those trains, I was sure you were so organized." The adults laughed. "Under you're blanket, I'm sure." Skimbleshanks exited. "Skimble rides on trains. They're big fast things that carry humans far distances. Would you like more cream, Jemima?"
"No, thank you." Jemima liked Jenny very much. She was right- Jenny was a very good mother. Which remined her. . ."Where's Mother?"