A/N: Ok, Ok. For all those who reviewed (especially you, Roman), I meant morbid in future fanfics I'm going to write. There may be a few R rated ones, but I'm not sure. But I would be sent to counselors for both of my stories. My school is insane. They consider "sucks" to be profanity. And yes Chi, I have gotten warned about using "sucks" by Mr. Fu'a. FIGHT THE POWER!!!!!
I was again contemplating my morals, and my decision, when I left the junkyard. Not for good, just to explore more of London. It was an interesting place. Outwardly, it seemed like a clean, respectable city. But I could see it in their eyes. It didn't matter if I looked into a human's or a cat's eyes, the same hollow look of their eyes told me that below the surface, this place was hell. Many cats bore the scars of battle, and their walk was one only used in sorrow. You may be thinking I'm psychic or something, but, I know body language. Having been on my streets my entire life, I had to learn what someone was going to do before they did it. Their eyes, walk, and general way of carrying themselves told me a lot about their past. I passed an old tom missing his left paw. His body was lined with scars, and his eyes stared into space, filled with tears held in. He had fought for a loved one, and failed. Whoever he had loved, be it family or mate, was now dead. A couple of other cats I passed had a look in their eyes that told me that they had committed murder- and liked it. This city was just like any other.
I stopped in a square, and took a careful look around. To my left, was a seemingly harmless fish market. I could smell illegal drugs from there. On my right, was a few houses. I saw a man mugging a helpless family. Directly in front of me, was a police/firehouse. Great job they were doing; sitting right in the middle of a crime spree, and not doing anything about it. Most of the cops were grossly overweight. It disgusted me.
"I thought you had run off with that son of a bitch bravo cat, Griddlebone." a male voice said suavely behind me. It was a murderous voice, and despite my experience, it chilled me to the bone. He seemed like he was the source of all the crime in the city. I slowly turned around, to see him. The source of all my moral dilemma. Munkustrap was right though, Mars did look exactly like him. Although, Mars never was able to grow up. Bloodlust had made sure of that.
"What, don't you recognize me?" He said, padding right up to me. His movements were that of an experienced fighter. I was the same way; never just walking. His eyes told me of a cat who lusted for battle, and murder. I could smell rat in his breath. Macavity towered over me, and I made sure to keep a calm demeanor about me. I looked him straight in the eye. If he was truly a street cat, he would see that I have killed many cats.
"I'm sorry, have we met?" I said cooly. This was one of the few times I praised long fur. Macavity couldn't see how tense my muscles were, ready to attack or dodge should battle ensue.
"I guess not. Griddlebone was too much of a glamor cat to dirty her paws." He replied, equally as cool. I smiled openly, revealing my long, dazzlingly white fangs. I wasn't in any danger right now. I could use my relation to him as means to infiltrate his headquarters and lower his guard, if that's the way it went. I always made multiple plans.
"Really, you know my mother? What was she like?" I asked, acting like a complete fool purposefully.
"Shouldn't you know your own mother?" He replied, slightly amused. Good. I was lowering his guard.
"I should. She left me and my brother as kits when she met a cat named Growltiger. Had to grow up on the streets." I replied, acting slightly embarrassed at this confession. He was probably wondering why I was so trusting of strangers. But, then again, that same trust made it pretty obvious that I was new here. "You look just like my brother, you know that?" I said thoughtfully. By now he had figured out that I was his daughter, or he was an idiot. "Well, I really must get going." I ended the conversation and walked off back the way I had come. I didn't want our fight to be here. I wanted it to be at the Junkyard, so the Jellicles could see that I'm trustworthy. Again, I wondered why I was so attached to the Jellicle tribe. Reflecting, I studied Macavity's reactions. He had shown no emotions what so ever, something I would have done in his place. Sighing, I pondered if he would invite me to join him, just reject me. That wouldn't be a new experience. There would be benefits to both sides. If I "joined" him, I could kill him in his sleep. If he rejected me, I could prove my trust to the Jellicles by fighting him in the junkyard. Either way, I had a plan. My thoughts were interrupted when I was picked up by a small human kit.
"Kitty!" she exclaimed. Although she was young, she was careful. Sometimes the kits would squeeze me so tight, I had to claw them harshly to get them to let go. I hated hurting kits. Sometimes they would leave food outside for me, when they saw me. That had also saved me from death a few times, when a tribe absolutely refused to take me in. The kit's hand started scratching behind my ears, and it felt good. House cats had it so easy, if this was what they got. The kit's mother caught up, saying not to touch me, I might bite. I looked at her indigently. I hadn't bit anybody for well over two weeks. A personal record I'm quite proud of. Then I realized something. I couldn't go back to the Junkyard. Macavity would most likely send someone to trail me, and my chances of meeting him in combat became nearly zero if he learned I stayed there. I would have to find somewhere else to stay, for now. And this kit had already solved that problem.
I started purring loudly, so that the mother of the kit holding me could hear. Nuzzling the kits chest, I was rewarded with a feeling of determination from the girl. She faintly smelled of another cat, but I couldn't place who. She had an older sister, too. Turning to her mother, the child began to beg to keep me. After ten minutes, the mother relented. They continued walking, just for a short while, until they arrived at their den. I had never tried being a house cat, and was actually curious to find out what it was like to be one. Besides that, a warm bed and food did seem like a good idea, especially when all I have to do is get scratched by this human kit.
A/N: You know what to do- start reviewing.
Mystitat: Thanks for pointing out the typo, I'll add the correct spelling into the spell check I use.
Roman: Ok, just so you know, most of my stories will have Tugger, Misto, Munku, and Mac as bros. I was about halfway through typing the chapter when I realized that Rose was flirting with her uncle. And don't worry, there will be plenty of Roman-esque relationships to come. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Krissy4: I know what you mean with the contractions thing. Ugh. By the way, what's with the alphabet joke, you know: A, B, C, D, E? Chi won't tell me!
Chimalmaht: I thought you would find Uncle Tugger funny!