The soft, delicate snow gave way under Exotica's paws as she trudged along the side of the road. The sky was a dusty gray, dressed for twilight. Each step the cat took left a tiny paw print, another one in the endless line behind her.
It was a long way home.
Exotica blew a breath of steamy air and watched it rise above her, taking on mysterious shapes as it went. Yes, it was a very long way to the junkyard. What with the snow and everything, she might not get home before the morning began.
She turned. The sound of a jingling harness had reached her ears, traveling closer and closer. Her eyes cast about frantically for a place to hide, but she saw nothing. Silently, she cursed her dark brown coat, which made her show up so clearly against the snow. She could only hope that the light snowflakes cascading gently from the sky were thick enough to hide her.
Exotica needn't have worried. It was only a horse and sleigh, with two men inside that couldn't be bothered with small cats out in the snow.
As the sled glided past, Exotica was suddenly struck with an idea, one that would shave several hours off her trek. As the sleigh passed her, she jumped onto the carriage, clambering onto the horse's broad back. She grinned when she recognized Conquistador, who didn't seem to notice her. Misto had told her the whole story,
"Well, lookee here," one of the men commented, motioning toward the passenger with his whip. "It's feline."
"That it is," the other agreed, "and a mighty smart one, too."
They traveled on in silence. Mile after mile rushed by, the wind blowing sharply against each upturned face; the horse, the men, the cat. They came upon a lone forest, with no companion but a frozen lake, still, quiet, serene. One of the men pulled the horse up, and they stood there, watching, thinking to themselves.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though.
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
The snow swirled by, sticking to anything it could. Exotica closed her eyes, inviting the cold. Conquistador shifted his weight.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
Conquistador shook his mane, eager to be off again. He turned to look at Exotica, who looked back steadily, unafraid. "Yo soy muy guapo," the horse said quietly. Exotica smiled and nodded, though she didn't understand a word of it. It was so much easier to just agree and bask in the quiet.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only sound the sweep of easy wind and downy flake.
The night slowly approached utter blackness, and yet the full moon made the woods shine eerily, yet beautifully, in the faint light.
Both men stirred simaltaneously. "Gaddup, horse," the one with the whip murmured, and flicked it out of habit. Conquistador moved forward briskly.
Exotica jumped gracefully off of the horse's back and climbed to the top of the carriage. The watched the woods gradually leave, growing smaller, departing as quietly as it had come. Fading... fading... fading...
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep.
And miles to go before I sleep...
It was a long way home.
Exotica blew a breath of steamy air and watched it rise above her, taking on mysterious shapes as it went. Yes, it was a very long way to the junkyard. What with the snow and everything, she might not get home before the morning began.
She turned. The sound of a jingling harness had reached her ears, traveling closer and closer. Her eyes cast about frantically for a place to hide, but she saw nothing. Silently, she cursed her dark brown coat, which made her show up so clearly against the snow. She could only hope that the light snowflakes cascading gently from the sky were thick enough to hide her.
Exotica needn't have worried. It was only a horse and sleigh, with two men inside that couldn't be bothered with small cats out in the snow.
As the sled glided past, Exotica was suddenly struck with an idea, one that would shave several hours off her trek. As the sleigh passed her, she jumped onto the carriage, clambering onto the horse's broad back. She grinned when she recognized Conquistador, who didn't seem to notice her. Misto had told her the whole story,
"Well, lookee here," one of the men commented, motioning toward the passenger with his whip. "It's feline."
"That it is," the other agreed, "and a mighty smart one, too."
They traveled on in silence. Mile after mile rushed by, the wind blowing sharply against each upturned face; the horse, the men, the cat. They came upon a lone forest, with no companion but a frozen lake, still, quiet, serene. One of the men pulled the horse up, and they stood there, watching, thinking to themselves.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though.
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
The snow swirled by, sticking to anything it could. Exotica closed her eyes, inviting the cold. Conquistador shifted his weight.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
Conquistador shook his mane, eager to be off again. He turned to look at Exotica, who looked back steadily, unafraid. "Yo soy muy guapo," the horse said quietly. Exotica smiled and nodded, though she didn't understand a word of it. It was so much easier to just agree and bask in the quiet.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only sound the sweep of easy wind and downy flake.
The night slowly approached utter blackness, and yet the full moon made the woods shine eerily, yet beautifully, in the faint light.
Both men stirred simaltaneously. "Gaddup, horse," the one with the whip murmured, and flicked it out of habit. Conquistador moved forward briskly.
Exotica jumped gracefully off of the horse's back and climbed to the top of the carriage. The watched the woods gradually leave, growing smaller, departing as quietly as it had come. Fading... fading... fading...
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep.
And miles to go before I sleep...