Hello again, everybody.

Another week means another chapter. And this week, this story starts to tip into the weirdness that I've been wanting to go for a while. Hope you all like it.

In case anyone doesn't know, this is the other half of my double-update. It's for this story and for Little Rose. And I'll tell you, updating both of my stories is pretty weird but fun. If I find more time, I'll do more of this.

So, without further ado, Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Still own nothing, but a girl can dream.

Short Interactions

Well… I did find the answer to my question, but not in the way I expected it.

I knew what I was trying to find wasn't a real ghost, but it had the same effect as one. Quiet, undetectable, and smart. Just the thought of invisible, watching eyes gave me the creeps. I personally blame my paranoia on my creepypasta binges that I would do on my earlier dates with Kristoff. Ever since the first creepypasta weekend, it became a bit of a tradition.

And right then, I couldn't stop the thoughts of Slenderman from creeping into my mind. Thank God that my worries ended as soon as they did.

However, in the short amount of time that I was on the lookout, I did find more answers and questions. As I took out the trash the next morning, all I needed was one glance into my garbage bin to see the carnage. The garbage bags were shredded and rotten food littered the inside of the bin. And, of course, white animal hair was clinging to the smeared garbage.

I honest to God facepalmed.

No wonder I'm having some animal issues. I'm practically waving around a giant sign and inviting all the woodland critters to an all-you-can-eat exotic buffet. It's every raccoon's and opossum's wet dream.

But I highly doubted that it was a raccoon or an opossum. While going into CSI mode, I could see tracks. It must had been a light rain shower last night as the dirt around the garbage bin did a good job on keeping the prints fresh-looking. Taking my phone out and snapping a few pics of some of the clearer paw prints was the easy past. Matching said paw prints to the animal who did them was not.

This was where Google comes in and becomes a lifesaver. And with my search engine at the ready, I looked started simply with 'raccoon paw prints'. With the showers of clipart, I could have stopped there, but I wanted to be certain. So, with a 'real raccoon paw prints' in the search engine, I came up with genuine pictures of raccoon tracks pressed into snow or mud. It was clearly not my mystery creature since raccoon's paws show up with five toes, not four. The same thing happened when I typed up 'real opossum paw prints. My paw prints had four toes, not five, but with more searching I found that a fox's and wolf's tracks look very close to my own set of prints.

After looking through most of the animals that I thought naturally lived in the forest, I switched to pets. It could be some stray that grew up in the wild and found out how easy it was to steal a good meal from the bin. And apparently, a dog's and cat's tracks match up pretty well, too. And since I'm not Bear Grylls, I don't automatically know which creature did what or who was where.

With different combinations of ages and genders, it could be either one or all of my guesses. Foxes, wolves, wild cats, and wild dogs. Oh my.

But what I could do was make sure that whatever that was coming to my little home would be disappointed. I did so with keeping my food away from their mouths by keeping a good pair of bungee cords close by so I could seal the lids shut with it. No food equals no interest, right? Well, the bags did remain intact and the food did remain inside the bags and not become smeared onto the walls again.

With all of the good that happened after just a few days of my new behavior, it seemed that only good things could come. While the urban and rural jungles had their separate rules, we were learning pretty well to deal with our woodland neighbors.

Well, we also learned that celebrating too early was not a good thing to do in the rural jungle. Why? Because after only a week had passed from my little victory, the culprits showed themselves. Figuratively and literally.

Allow me to paint out the scene: The sun was shining, birds were singing, and the leaves were beautiful. Although autumn sucks from all of the back-to-school hype, nature truly shines during this season. I just love to watch the goldish red and brownish green leaves chased each other in the wind that carried more than just a hint of frost. It was also kind of fun changing outfits as the chill started to settle in the land.

So, there was me, all snug within my sweatpants and thick sweater ready to go out to another walk around my home. And there's Elijah being all snug with his own warm sweater, sweatpants, and little beanie seated inside the A.T.S. Even now, I get a giggle at the name for that odd stroller. My quiet Marshall loved anything with four wheels, so after assembling the weird three-wheeled stroller gifted from my cousin, he was interested with its design. The sharp turns, easy control, and light weight of the stroller had combined to inspire the title: the All-Terrain Stroller.

Anyway, with one foot outside the door, another foot inside, one hand on the stroller, another hand ready to lock the door, my eyes are immediately drawn to one key aspect to the outside world.

There was a strange fluff of black and white that had placed itself on my porch.

Trust me, in the rainbow of colors that is autumn, they were exactly the very last colors I would expect to see on that morning. But it was there and it was blinking at me. Long haired, gold eyed, and silent as the grave, a cat stared at me. Waiting.

For what, I don't know, but I wasn't going to bother it. Although I had awesome Spidey-Mom instincts to detect danger with, it's never a good idea to approach an animal you don't know with a two and a half month old baby. So, after locking my door and giving a little wave to the weird feline, I carefully move the stroller down the baby-proof stroller ramp and went on my walk.

During my routine walk, I didn't really think about the cat much. I mean, I most likely just found the mystery culprit to the odd problems to my home, but it wasn't the time. I was already in a habit of thinking about other things during this time of day. Ideas for some of my stories trickled through my head, while chores to be done were waiting in the wings. Memories of some of the games Olaf and Marshall would play with the leaves would conflict with the present quietness of nature. And under all of this, a small pang of hunger rumbled in my stomach.

Still, I had to wait a long while before I could cook something up. My walks were longs ones since the place is so huge. At best, the walks took fifty minutes to make the journey back home. At worst, since little Elijah does get restless and fussy at times, it takes about an hour and a half.

Today was a better day, and I returned at home an hour later. Even from a distance, the first thing that I immediately recognized was the patch of black and white on my porch. The cat was still here. Quiet and watching as I climbed back up the ramp. But once I was on the porch, I saw something was different. The cat had a mouse in its claws. The brown fur of the dead rodent stood out against the white on its paws as clearly as the small splash of blood on the cat's white jawline.

I was surprised. To me, the cat had looked like some pretty overfed housecat cause of its size. Taking a closer look at the weird cat, I could see the dirt on its fur as clearly as I could see the tangles that the long fur had gotten into. Those types of tangles that took a lifetime of self-care to make. It wasn't mangled, just dirty. It wasn't fat, just big. It wasn't tame; it was a wild cat at heart.

Making sure as to not startle the feline, I carefully opened the door. It had its business and I had mine, so I did my best as to not disturb it. Nevertheless, it never looked away from me. The gold eyes watched every movement and before I closed the door again, I spoke out to it.

"Good catch, little guy. Bon appétit."

And as I closed the door, I thought I heard it meow back.

After that, the day went as normally as always. Actually, it went a bit better than normal as Elijah was very calm. Even though he had taken a nap during the walk, all he needed was a bottle of milk before drifting off to sleep, once again freeing me up to the house. All my chores sped by and sooner than I expected, I was back in my office with a sleeping Elijah in his A.T.S. and my newest draft on my book opened on my laptop.

I worked on it until I heard the telltale sounds of the school bus. Carefully maneuvering through the halls, I went to reheat lunch for my boys as I imagined their sneakers running home and their backpacks bouncing along their backs. With the smell of pasta and bread sticks in the air, I had just finished serving two good platefuls of food before the door opened again.

"Mami, Mami!?" That was Olaf, probably racing down the hall with Marshall to fill their hungry stomachs. As I turned to the kitchen's opening, you wouldn't believe how my eyes shot up at the sight before me.

Olaf was all smiles and bright cheeks. Marshall was oddly the same. I say so, since he was always my quiet child. He expresses his joy more with his eyes than his face, but today, his smile was radiant. And I had absolutely no problem in understanding why.

Because in the arms of Marshall laid a familiar patch of black and white.

Meow.

Well… things have turned a bit more interesting.

AN. Kitty! Hmm… taking in a stray wild cat that seems to get along with children is never a good idea. But, I'll make it work for my story. You'll see. ;)

And as always: concerns, comments and informed critiques are always welcomed around here.

So, until next time, Au revoir.