Etcetera's P.O.V. (A day after last chapter)

I was searching for Vicky -cat form- because I really needed to know what was up with her. She'd blown off all of us a couple days ago, and over the past month she'd changed. She was easily annoyed, and she seemed to brood and seethe more. She'd become moody, really. And she didn't sing much to my knowledge anymore. Anyway, something was up, besides everything I'd mentioned. She was always around the south end of the Junkyard, too, though I have no idea why.

There she was, to no one's surprise in particular, at the south end of the Junkyard. She was curled up on an old discarded pillow, but she wasn't asleep. She was staring off into the distance. I briefly considered the fact that she may be contemplating her other name, but I pushed the thought aside. She looked up as I approached, though I have no idea how she could tell I was coming, as she was staring off into the other direction. She stared at me as I wondered how to start, and whether I should actually talk or just mouth. I often had this debate when it was just the two of us.

She rolled her eyes and said, "What?" I'd realized she didn't like to talk much anymore, she was probably scared that it'll come out as like, a squack and she won't even know. Poor Vicky.

So I decided to talk, then and there, and I sat down on the ground next to her. "Listen, Vick, Pouncival the other day..." I didn't speak too fast, and I annunciated. It wasn't the same around her, but I really was trying.

She rolled her eyes in disgust. "What about the little twit?"

See what I mean? She'd become more moody. She wasn't the same kid from our memory. "I... Vick, I found him yesterday crying. He mentioned your name. What did you do to him?"

She blinked: her new form of complete and utter surprise. "I... I was singing to myself; maybe he overheard..."

Well, this was news. "What exactly did you say? And was it directed at him? And -" She held up her paws, assumably to make me shut up.

"A little slower, please, Cettie."

Oops. I kept forgetting, I mean, at times it was so easy to! I slowed down a considerable amount, and repeated the two questions.

"Please. Why would I sing about Pounce? I was singing about how pissed off I was at everything. Because I couldn't well... hear. God, I miss it." I saw a moment of sadness reflect in her petite features. But I couldn't tell if the first part was true or not. By the way; she sounded fine while talking. I wouldn't of been able to tell had I not known in the first place.

"Well... can you go talk to him? Pounce was crying. He's obviously upset."

"I... I think not." She looked uncomfortable.

I shrugged, "Whatever." As I turned and walked away, I laughed to myself. Those two were crazy for each other, they just wouldn't admit it.


[A/N] Filler. I know. But this idea was also... forming. Next chapter I'll PROBABLY bring in another one of the main plot factors ^.^