King of the Jungle

Prologue

Belleville. The name itself could not be said without sounding disgusting. Really, what had been so wrong with the old home? Sure it had been a little small, but the word "quaint" fit it far better, or at least that is what Rose thought. She had grown up in that home with her late mother, and her rather rambunctious siblings that later became her neighbors. She was not missing them all that much, admittedly. However, she was missing her favorite sunbathing spots, the scenic view of her territory, and the general ambience of the quiet house. This house was not so quiet. In fact, her old house had not been so quiet as of late either. Not after that man and his grabby things started hanging around. As far as Rose was concerned those things were of no good to her and her housemate by the name of Lucy Small, now Lucy Cade. People were really so stupid sometimes, no wonder they were only given one life to lead unlike a far more deserving species that had nine. Yes, Lucy truly was an idiot, though Rose supposed that she had always been one so this should not have come as a surprise. Even her mother had warned her of the humans' capricious ways, however she also spoke of the streets and forest the same way. Rose had always assumed that if her mother, as wise as she was, had chosen a human household over the streets or the forest then it was the best choice, no matter the shortcomings, but had come to start doubting that assumption. If she remembered correctly, the doubt started the moment one of the grabby things caught ahold of her tail. It was hard to believe that Lucy was ever a thing like that, though her mother swore she had once been. Humans called them "kids" and cats, "kittens," but "grabby things" fit these little monsters perfectly as far as Rose was concerned. That doubt had grown since, and it was now reaching a peak as she was trapped in a black bag heading towards this "Belleville." Rose really hated that name by now.

She had already been trapped in this bag for hours on top of hours and that was not even the worst of it. Not only did she have to ride in the metal beast known as a "car," but she had been on something Lucy called an "airplane." The entire journey she also had to put up with the grabby things. They were loud, smelled funny, and would not stop touching her no matter how much she growled. To put it very simply: Rose will never let them put her in that bag again. The vet was nothing now. She had caught bits of Lucy's conversations and had pieced together that the reason for this strenuous venture was because she had decided to purchase a new home with her mate, one that for some ungodly reason had to be in a whole other country. Yep, she was leaving Britain, home of all her ancestors, for the country of America and had absolutely no choice in the matter. Never again would she walk the same trails as her mother, scuffle with her siblings, or feel the contentedness of being where you knew you belonged. Lovely.

Even with all that in mind, Rose had been reasonably hopeful about this new arrangement. She had known Lucy a very long time and had figured that it counted for something when it came to knowing what the human was going to do. Apparently not knowing her new mate proved too great a disadvantage, because the moment Rose had gotten a glimpse at her new "home" she was horrified. Her old house had been a paradise of sorts, because for what it lacked in size it made up for it in land. There were woods to the north, the sea to the south, the city to the east, and farmland to the west. As such, it had been naturally a little secluded, but not cut off from the world. Rose and her mother had always enjoyed the privacy it had afforded, and for the longest time Rose had thought that Lucy had, too. Clearly that was not the case, because now she was situated in a townhouse. It was naturally large due to all the future inhabitants, and Rose had no problem with its size, but was that really supposed to be a yard? One patch of grass was not a yard. There was not even any trees, which should have been where the houses were squeezed together. Did she mention that she could already smell all the other cats in the neighborhood? Apparently there were several that were her neighbors, dogs, too.

Rose had already seen enough before she was brought inside. Apparently Lucy's mate had left Britain ahead of them and he, along with the movers, had already situated most of the furniture inside. Most of it was not Lucy's, being that it either smelled of that man or cleaner of sorts, and that was just yet another thing to add to the list. This was not home. It would never be home. It did not look like home, did not smell like home, and did not feel like home. As prideful as Rose was, she was getting to the point that she would be willing to do some pretty unsavory things to get her point across. Lucy simply did not have the right to run both of their lives like this. If anything, she owed Rose and her family. They were the one constant in her life through everything, not this man and his grabby things. Why could she not just understand that? Was her life that bad before? Rose had always thought she had enjoyed her private life as a budding author, spending her days living on the outskirts of a quiet town in a house that was once owned by her own family. Maybe she truly had and was just taking it for granted, and now that it was gone she would want it back. One could always hope.

"Ah, so you are the newcomer to this neighborhood."

It took all of Rose's self-control to cry out at the sudden voice, but her hair raising on end gave away her surprise, which was apparently funny.

"Calm down, ma cherie. My name is Francoise, your next door neighbor to the right. Well, one of them."

Rose flicked her tail in annoyance, starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together. This, Francoise, was in her house. She hated it, but it was still hers and he had no right to be here. A still swinging cat flap on the front door behind him told the whole story of how he got in. Great, apparently the neighbors had no modesty or manners. It did not help that Francoise looked like a giant cotton ball, which was probably shedding so he would forever be embedded in the furniture and carpet, and had the strange smell of something vaguely reminiscent of grapes and scented candles.

"Cannot take your eyes off me, I see." the cat chuckled, taking a seat and brushing his tail with his paw, "It is truly magnificent, so I see why. I am a pure-blooded Persian, after all. I have so many show ribbons that it would make your head spin."

Rose, in all her years, had not met a cat like this. She was rather young, but definitely not born yesterday. She had met arrogant cats before, sure, some that harped on being pure blooded. Well, she was a pure blooded Scottish Fold and though she was prideful, she was proud of acts she herself had accomplished, not some bloodline that anyone could have been born into. However, what really made this one different is that she knew exactly what he reminded her of from the moment she had first heard his voice.

"I was not aware that they had competitions for frogs."

"The new belle is feisty, it seems." the Persian mused aloud, "You know, you would be much cuter if you did not scowl. Orange and white is actually quite pretty."

Rose felt her hackles raising even higher if that were possible.

"Y-you frog!"

"It is the truth, and though I would like to spend more time with you it is getting rather late. Welcome to the neighborhood, Rose, I believe your owner called you. I will be sure to grace you with my presence again, ta ta!"

And the Persian was gone, leaving Rose frozen on the spot with her fur all over the place. Bugger, that would take forever to groom back in place. Needless to say, she was not looking forward to meeting any more neighbors and was missing Britain more than ever.