Hastily Cat bounded to Caterpillar's Plot. A ladybug was of particular annoyance to him. He soon lost patience with all of the acorns dropping on him and pounced at it, batting her head off with one paw. She tumbled to the ground and he was just about to continue on his way when he stopped. It felt as though it had been a long - very long - time since his last meal, and his stomach was starting to rumble. He took a few bites but soon found her to be distinctly foul tasting, and left the carcass where it lay.
"Caterpillar," he panted. Caterpillar bent in close to hear.
"What is it?" he asked eagerly. Cat shook his head, indicating that the news wasn't terribly joyous.
"She is about to meet the Countess," he said. Caterpillar winced and sighed.
Cat sat down, every bit as glum as Caterpillar. "I've... posted Rabbit at the back door... just in case," he added quickly. Caterpillar thought for a moment and nodded. "I told him to wait for her, and to check on her through the window every few minutes - he'll be glued there for the entire time - and if Faith loses, he is to get his tail here as soon as possible."
He started pacing, which Caterpillar ignored briefly but he soon grew a little impatient when Cat didn't stop. "You need something to do. But we are NOT letting you near the Countess; Cheshire Cat Soufflé is high up on her list of cravings, right next to Faith Soup. Hmmm..." he thought for a moment, then brightened as an idea hit him. "Why don't you have a chat with that therapist?"
Cat brightened, and slowly vanished.
He soon reappeared in the bedroom of a nice flat, which was apparently one of this man's heirlooms. Looking around, tail high in the air, he jumped on the bed. He nearly fell off when he saw the woman there.
She was on her side, and at first glance he saw that she had fair skin, not pale like Faith's- darker, and was about medium height. He surveyed her further. She was wearing PJ bottoms and a tank top - nothing fancy. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a braid that fell about an inch or two past her shoulders. Reading glasses lay on the table next to her, and with her was a copy of "A Wrinkle in Time."
He jumped over and landed on the widest part of her hip and watched her sleep. After a brief moment, she stirred, with the feeling of someone watching her.
Jessica was, admittedly, not a cat person, and the mangy feline sitting on her hip did nothing to calm those feelings. It was disgustingly thin, and had strange markings, almost like tattoos, on its body. It even had an earring. For a moment, she laughed nervously. Punk Rocker Cat lives, she thought. What was most unnerving about it though, was the grin. It was wide, and she personally thought that even a dentist would faint at the sight of... its teeth. Oh, disgusting. They were sharp and yellow, with gross stuff on them... and what had to be the leg of some unfortunate... rather large insect sticking out between. But the cat never stopped grinning at her, and she recoiled as it prepared to jump.
It jumped, and she cried out as it landed a square inch from her chest. It opened its mouth, and leered at her for just a moment. Then it got up and padded up to where it could stare straight into her face. She saw the hunger in its eyes, and shrunk back in fear.
It kept coming, faster, and just as she thought she couldn't get away, it jumped right in front of her face and stared into her eyes. "Boo," it said, and she screamed as it leapt away, to perch on top of the wardrobe.
At that moment, Halden came running in. "Jess! What's the matter?" he asked, alarmed. Trembling, she pointed up to the wardrobe, but the cat was gone. Then she saw it on a chair and pulled hard on her husband's sleeve. He whirled to face it, but the cat... vanished, and reappeared at the foot of the bed. This time he saw it and Jessica screamed and kicked it.
It sailed high into the air and landed with a thud on the carpeting. Halden then saw that this was a very big cat- about two feet high at the shoulder, and it slowly got up. Then it jumped through an open window, fast. Halden opened the window and stopped suddenly. He had to open the window the cat had just jumped out of. He turned to Jessica, and judging by her expression, she had seen it, too. Wary and pale, he peered out. They were on the fourth floor, and the cat was nowhere in sight.
There was a knocking at the door, and Halden slowly went to open it. Standing just outside was that man he'd met at the station... Cheshire. He didn't appear terribly surprised to see Halden, despite the fact that Halden was beyond amazed at seeing him. And a little disappointed.
"Ah, you again."
Jessica stared at the two of them strangely. She had hazel eyes, but they were grey now with confusion.
"Have either of you, by chance, seen a dark brownish-grey cat anywhere?"
Her eyes widened and she asked, "Was it, by chance, a rather tall cat- about two feet at the shoulder?"
"That would be the one."
"Then you should be under arrest, sir," she said, eyes flashing. "That thing was in abominable condition! Its fur was all matted and mangy and its teeth were repulsive, and-"
Cheshire fixed her with a chilling glare. "It isn't mine," he sneered. His voice made the little hairs on her arms stand on end. "It stole something from me, and I want it back."
"It's probably dead then," she said coldly. To her regret, it didn't have half the threatening quality his had. "It jumped out of a fourth-floor window, and no cat could survive that, no matter how big."
He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his ears. "Forgive me. I am of the belief that cats have nine lives," he said calmly. She froze in anger, believing that he took her for an idiot. He smiled then, as if he knew what she was thinking. "He's already wasted one."
"Caterpillar," he panted. Caterpillar bent in close to hear.
"What is it?" he asked eagerly. Cat shook his head, indicating that the news wasn't terribly joyous.
"She is about to meet the Countess," he said. Caterpillar winced and sighed.
Cat sat down, every bit as glum as Caterpillar. "I've... posted Rabbit at the back door... just in case," he added quickly. Caterpillar thought for a moment and nodded. "I told him to wait for her, and to check on her through the window every few minutes - he'll be glued there for the entire time - and if Faith loses, he is to get his tail here as soon as possible."
He started pacing, which Caterpillar ignored briefly but he soon grew a little impatient when Cat didn't stop. "You need something to do. But we are NOT letting you near the Countess; Cheshire Cat Soufflé is high up on her list of cravings, right next to Faith Soup. Hmmm..." he thought for a moment, then brightened as an idea hit him. "Why don't you have a chat with that therapist?"
Cat brightened, and slowly vanished.
He soon reappeared in the bedroom of a nice flat, which was apparently one of this man's heirlooms. Looking around, tail high in the air, he jumped on the bed. He nearly fell off when he saw the woman there.
She was on her side, and at first glance he saw that she had fair skin, not pale like Faith's- darker, and was about medium height. He surveyed her further. She was wearing PJ bottoms and a tank top - nothing fancy. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a braid that fell about an inch or two past her shoulders. Reading glasses lay on the table next to her, and with her was a copy of "A Wrinkle in Time."
He jumped over and landed on the widest part of her hip and watched her sleep. After a brief moment, she stirred, with the feeling of someone watching her.
Jessica was, admittedly, not a cat person, and the mangy feline sitting on her hip did nothing to calm those feelings. It was disgustingly thin, and had strange markings, almost like tattoos, on its body. It even had an earring. For a moment, she laughed nervously. Punk Rocker Cat lives, she thought. What was most unnerving about it though, was the grin. It was wide, and she personally thought that even a dentist would faint at the sight of... its teeth. Oh, disgusting. They were sharp and yellow, with gross stuff on them... and what had to be the leg of some unfortunate... rather large insect sticking out between. But the cat never stopped grinning at her, and she recoiled as it prepared to jump.
It jumped, and she cried out as it landed a square inch from her chest. It opened its mouth, and leered at her for just a moment. Then it got up and padded up to where it could stare straight into her face. She saw the hunger in its eyes, and shrunk back in fear.
It kept coming, faster, and just as she thought she couldn't get away, it jumped right in front of her face and stared into her eyes. "Boo," it said, and she screamed as it leapt away, to perch on top of the wardrobe.
At that moment, Halden came running in. "Jess! What's the matter?" he asked, alarmed. Trembling, she pointed up to the wardrobe, but the cat was gone. Then she saw it on a chair and pulled hard on her husband's sleeve. He whirled to face it, but the cat... vanished, and reappeared at the foot of the bed. This time he saw it and Jessica screamed and kicked it.
It sailed high into the air and landed with a thud on the carpeting. Halden then saw that this was a very big cat- about two feet high at the shoulder, and it slowly got up. Then it jumped through an open window, fast. Halden opened the window and stopped suddenly. He had to open the window the cat had just jumped out of. He turned to Jessica, and judging by her expression, she had seen it, too. Wary and pale, he peered out. They were on the fourth floor, and the cat was nowhere in sight.
There was a knocking at the door, and Halden slowly went to open it. Standing just outside was that man he'd met at the station... Cheshire. He didn't appear terribly surprised to see Halden, despite the fact that Halden was beyond amazed at seeing him. And a little disappointed.
"Ah, you again."
Jessica stared at the two of them strangely. She had hazel eyes, but they were grey now with confusion.
"Have either of you, by chance, seen a dark brownish-grey cat anywhere?"
Her eyes widened and she asked, "Was it, by chance, a rather tall cat- about two feet at the shoulder?"
"That would be the one."
"Then you should be under arrest, sir," she said, eyes flashing. "That thing was in abominable condition! Its fur was all matted and mangy and its teeth were repulsive, and-"
Cheshire fixed her with a chilling glare. "It isn't mine," he sneered. His voice made the little hairs on her arms stand on end. "It stole something from me, and I want it back."
"It's probably dead then," she said coldly. To her regret, it didn't have half the threatening quality his had. "It jumped out of a fourth-floor window, and no cat could survive that, no matter how big."
He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his ears. "Forgive me. I am of the belief that cats have nine lives," he said calmly. She froze in anger, believing that he took her for an idiot. He smiled then, as if he knew what she was thinking. "He's already wasted one."