{Just a quick first-look into Ruby and Cat's conflicting lives. A sort of prologue. Not the kind you'd generally skip over, in my opinion. Thanks in advance if you've come this far.}
The forest. Ah, the forest; such wonder and splendor it must contain. Ruby was never quite one for such obsessive curiosity. And why should she be? Her life was cozy and comfortable, with no strain aside from the occasional dirty box or low amount of food in her bowl. Indeed, her life was probably the definition of a perfect cat.
Of course, she was one of the fancily-groomed ones, having been raised on daily hot baths and only the best cat food on the market. Her housefolk, who had moved to a farm near the woods for some inexplicable reason, still treated her like royalty — and Ruby was just fine with that. Of course, all this spoiling evidently led to a selfish cat. Though slender and well-fit from all of her grueling exercises, she certainly would be on her way to morbid obesity if she quit her activities.
The young she-cat was still just barely more than a kitten, and so was not yet used for breeding purposes. She would, no-doubt, bear beautiful kittens — she was sure of it. She looked into the reflection of herself in the birdbath each and every day, and pleasure at being so lovely kept her ego boosted to maximum-size.
Now she walked along the blinding-white wooden fence gracefully, keeping her small paws balanced. Why was she so immensely curious all of a sudden, when it came to the forest just past her garden fence? It must only be some sort of fantasy that had drifted into her dreaming imagination during a restful slumber.
Ruby let the warm morning sun warm her ginger tabby fur, rejoicing in its familiar comfort. If her curiosity should ever get the better of her, she must simply remind herself of the perfect life she had. There could be nothing more satisfying.
"Raer!" Cat gasped in pain, shrinking away from another on-coming boot. The two-leg was shouting angrilyat him, kicking him anywhere it could reach and never stopping. Cat gasped as another blow landed to his head, just above his cheek. And he unable to fight back, as his two-leg had crudely cut off his claws at the first time of his trying to defend himself.
The two-leg yowled again, leaning down and picking up Cat by his scruff, digging its claws into Cat's sensitive skin through his fur. Cat howled in pain, though this only resulted in yet another hit, this time to his eye, which was already swollen shut from a previous blow. He wasn't yet aware of the dire crime he had committed this time to receivehis customary punishment, but eventually the two-leg would bring him to the scene of the incident and shove Cat into the closet, where he would no-doubt stay for at least a few sunrises; he could never tell how the day passed in the utter darkness. His only hope when this happened was to dash out when and if the two-leg forgot his presence and opened the closet to fetch something-or-other. It never seemed to work, but Cat's hope was never bruised, however much his body was.
A sharp stinging sensation erupted from the bleeding cut in his ear, and he winced from another ringing howl and pounded in his eardrums. The two-leg carried him painfully to the smell room, where Cat was thrown hatefully into the back wall of the closet, the familiar dent this time banging his shoulder. He hissed in pain as he slid to the floor helplessly. The door slammed, sending miscellaneous things falling on top of Cat. Fortunately these things were lighter than the last few times; probably just the fur-less pelts that the two-leg wore over its skin. He let out the customary croaky meow for an escape, but of course no one would come.
Climbing through the pelts, Cat finally settled on top of the mound, his aching limbs and searing cuts making him more exhausted. Closing his tired eyes, he fell asleep quicker than usual; maybe it was the pounding ache in his head making him so sleepy …