Intro: Well, since so many reviewers insist that my story isn't pointless, I'll try to make it less so.
Wolf groaned, rubbing his eyes hard. He had been trying to stay awake the since he woke up at midnight (from his dreams), partly because he was sick and tired of his stupid mattress, and party because he didn't want to hear any more of his nightmares. He sat on his bed, trying to think up ways of keeping awake. He didn't have any coffee, he didn't have any cold water to splash on his face (his tap water was lukewarm, on top of dirty, smelly, and parasite-ridden), so he considered going outside for a walk. His stomach was growling, and briefly Wolf considered robbing the store. But the neighbourhood was close; everybody knew everybody, so Wolf couldn't risk being caught and sent to prison. Maybe the police knew him better than his neighbours. Most likely. Wolf also liked to cling onto whatever honour he had left. It was one of his only possessions. Honour. Skill. A set of tattered, crap clothes.
The moment he opened the cracked door out of the apartment building, a wave of cold wind slapped him in the face, clearing his head instantly. Wolf thought of tracking down the pickpocket, but he was too hungry and tired to do so. Maybe she'd bump into him again. And this time, Wolf thought angrily, I can strangle her and take my money back. It was a refreshing thought. It brought back memories of Wolf's piloting days. Wolf thought about them as he walked. All the rush of being in a jet going at Mach 4. All the excitement when you shoot down an annoying Cornerian craft. All the adrenalin that rushes into your brain when you dive-bomb a military base. It was all good fun, but it was past now. Wolf had to live in the harsh realities of a life of a bum. It wasn't so bad. At least Wolf had four walls to close him in. Wolf passed a street dog sitting miserably in a cardboard box in the middle of an alley as he walked. He was wearing clothes more horrid and dirty than Wolf's. It made him feel better, almost sadistic. But the dog reminded Wolf so much about himself that he didn't throw garbage in the dog's face. He would've usually done such evil. But not that night.
Wolf glanced up at the stars. He saw Katina, a close, brownish ball near one of Zoness' moons. Wolf scowled at it, remembering that Captain that nearly shot him down while he was at a mission there. What was that wretch's name? Grey, that was it. William Grey. Wolf turned his head a bit to the left and saw Titania. Not a bad sight to behold in the dark skies, but not the best place to live, with magnetic storms and landmines left by Wolf himself. Then he saw Venom, that looming shadow that covered more than a fifth of the stars. Wolf sighed. That looming, evil shadow was once his home. A good home. The best place he had lived in his life.
As Wolf was looking up, he didn't notice a figure walking the opposite way on the same sidewalk. The figure didn't see Wolf either. Her head was fixed to the ground. Not a surprise that the smashed into each other. Wolf was throw onto the pavement and she was bumped against the wall.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" Wolf snarled. Then he saw her face. Pink. Catlike. Wolf's good eye widened, "YOU!" The cat took off like lightening, and Wolf quickly jumped up to give chase. She was fast, like a cat should be, but Wolf was faster. Natural instinct took over the lupine, and he leaned forward and ran faster and faster. The cat soon got exhausted and madly scanned the street for a way out. She ducked into a dark alley, and Wolf followed.
The cat didn't get very far. A linked metal fence blocked her flight. Frightened, she looked up. Fortunately for her, there was a ladder near the fence leading up to the roof of a brick building. She dashed for it. Wolf saw her climbing up and made like a monkey. Gasping in weariness, the cat tried to jump over the fence from the ladder. It would've worked, too; she was high enough up on the ladder, but Wolf had grabbed her leg and pulled. Hard. The cat fell with a shriek and landed with a sickening thud and crack on the cement ground of the alley. The force of Wolf's throw had broken her arm.
He jumped neatly down from the ladder and kneeled beside her. Wolf dug his paw into her pants' pockets and found a twenty-dollar bill. He stuck it into his own pocket. Smirking, he said to the cat, "That's what you get for messing with me."
"Hmm," the cat sat up, sighing. Wolf was surprised when she didn't run. Looking up to Wolf, she smiled, "Hey, you're pretty fast and strong, tiger. Where're you from?" Wolf's jaw dropped for the second time in one day.
"What the heck... Okay, lady, you've got some nerve. Get! Before I break one of your legs!" Wolf spat.
"Whatever, hon," the cat stood up, "See you later." The cat walked away, holding her broken arm.
Wolf shook his head, "That woman needs therapy."
It wasn't until Wolf got home that he realized that he was still hungry; the chase made him forget that he hadn't eaten for two days. Mumbling, Wolf decided to sleep anyway to ease away the rest of the night, even if it meant for some more nightmares...
Well, well, the poor chap got his money back. So what? Twenty dollars can't change how you are right now! You are still a worthless piece of fur that's less valuable than a bit of green string! Absolutely despicable... Filthy... Stench-ridden... Street urchin... A bit of unwanted carbon... Downtrodden... Stupid... Miserable piece of trash... Nothing...
Nothing...