If I say something like "Jemima's P.O.V." and not "Juliana's P.O.V." that means that character is in cat form, not human. But if I don't change P.O.V.'s then I'll have that characters say somewhere, cat form, or human form. Then, of course, Caitlin is human, so if she says anything about them (unless she notices a cat or something. I'm still debating about this) she's referring to human form. [There is a book reference. That would be A Series of Unfortunate Events, which I do not own. FYI]


Victoria's P.O.V.

When Cettie walked away, my feelings, and brain, were muddled. I didn't like Pounce... right? I mean, he was an annoying little brat. On the other hand... I bolted upright. Someone had been stealing around towards the piles of junk to my right. I didn't know who it had been, because I'd only seen them out of the corner of my eye. I cautiously got up, trying to sense the dang vibrations. God, I hated this so much. I mean, I'd meant the change was good in me not having to live in fear anymore. But this wasn't much better, if it was at all. I peered around the corner and practically burst out laughing. Or, at least, I would've, if I wasn't worried at what a laughing fit might sound like.

There was Teazer, in about the funniest position I'd ever seen her in. She appeared to be stuck upside-down to a pile of junk, somehow. She saw me approaching, and a look of relief appeared on her small features. She and the other newer experiments who'd been created from birth were a little smaller.

Teazer started to talk, and though she was talking reasonably slowly, I had no idea what she was saying. I had problems around these twins, because of their accents. I just shook my head at her, basically signalling for her to shut her trap, and inspected what had happened. She must have been trying to climb the pile, and ended up getting her hind foot and tail wedged inbetween an old window frame, a tire, and what appeared to be an old box. I wasn't going to investigate what was in it. And Teazer must have attempted to flip out of it, and she'd gotten stuck upside-down. I shook my head, and what I assumed was a whisper, "Have you ever considered, I dunno, shifting?"

And I made out something along the lines of, "I was afraid that would hurt more."

I rolled my eyes and began the work of trying to get the window frame loose. I looked down at her and said, "You might want to consider getting ready to flip whenever this comes out." She nodded in response, obviously understanding I had trouble trying to figure out what she was saying. I must've seen Teazer attempting to flip her way out. Hoo, boy. The window frame came flying out of the pile, and Teazer began to slide down, scrabbling uselessly with her paws. All of a sudden, she did a back flip and landed on the grass at the bottom of the pile. I shook my head and went from large piece of trash to the next until I was back down. I nodded a good-bye and scampered away. I practically saw her back there, scratching her head, trying to figure out how and why I'd changed. I shook my head to myself, none of them understood. None of them would be able to understand. Ever. Except for maybe Misto/Quaxo, who also had a failure somewhere in his genes. Though maybe not as catostrophic as the one in mine.

I shook my head again, after I'd stopped running. I was around the center of the Junkyard now. I was fully convinced my life was such a mess, and that I'd never be able to have a cheerful long period of time. I felt like those orphans I'd read about in one book series or another, I didn't really remember, or care.

There was Misto, who suddenly switched to Quaxo. He scowled, probably in annoyance. He was the only one who might have an inkling of all this complete and utter shit I was going through. I started off towards him, then decided against it. As good as it would feel to vent to someone, it wasn't worth it. Nobody would understand. I felt myself going back into myself, the only place left to go to. Truthfully, I felt better this way. More independent, but a heck of a lot snobbier. God, I hated this.

I looked up, and my eyes automatically widened to about probably three times their normal size. There was Caitlin, looking down at our Junkyard, and the dozens of cats who were in it. Well, crap. Which, believe me, was a massive understatement.