It had been storming for several days. Thick gray clouds obscuring the sky, while the tops of the trees were gone in the white haze of rain. Vlad spent most of those days in his mansion, working from home when the internet was available (his generator running on residual ectoplasm given off by the mere existence of his Portal), or otherwise experimenting in the lab, researching in his library, even just cleaning when he became bored. In the middle of the Wisconsin wilderness, there was really nothing else to do.

It was one morning, when the gray sky was lighter than usual and the rain was nothing more than an intermittent dripping, that Vlad decided to take a step outside for some fresh air. He was dressed casually, dark slacks and a red button up, just in case the threatening rumble of distant thunder became a sudden reality. His back porch was a mess of fallen leaves and even some small branches, ripped from the trees that lined his expansive yard. He frowned, nudging a clump of green leaves that was quickly wilting with a scuffed, but comfortable, loafer. He needed to call his landscaper, remove the trees that were becoming unsightly and restore the rose bushes he was certain had once lined the side of his house.

"Meh-kk."

Vlad looked up, the high-pitched sound coming from somewhere close by. He twisted his lips, wondering at what creature could sound so pitiful.

"Weh-meh."

He looked around. His eyes picked up on the quiver of grass not attributed to the wind, and his ears on the frantic thumping of a scared heart. Under the stairs of his porch, a pair of bright green eyes met his, and a tiny mouth opened, revealing tiny white teeth and a tiny pink tongue.

"Meah. Meah."

Such a miserable looking beast, he thought. Matted fur, tiny paws huddled under its little body, long tail wrapped around a quivering form. Did you crawl under there to die?

Its nose flared, the scent of the supernatural reaching it. For a moment, the creature looked ready to bolt. But then it squeaked again, gravely voice leaving off in a series of clicks.

Vlad frowned. If the animal died under his porch, the smell would become unbearable. But he wasn't so concerned so as to ruin his clothes by laying on the ground to try and grab at it. Perhaps he could lure it out, send it away to die in the forest somewhere.

A quick trip to the kitchen later, and he was laying tiny flakes of a tuna steak on the stone pathway that lead away from the first step. The animal watched him with curious eyes, ears pricked forward. It was old enough, he thought as he watched it, that the baby blue had faded. But there was still a tint around the edges of the iris.

Slowly, watching the man just as intently as it watched the food, the little creature inched forward, hunger outweighing fear. A tiny nose peeked out from the safety of the stairs, cheeks and whiskers quivering as it sniffed. It looked at Vlad for a long minute, then darted out, burying its face in the tuna.

Vlad crouched nearby, the animal not even taking notice of his proximity. When it moved, reaching out with one dirty paw to bring a lump of fish closer, he saw a large wound. A deep gash, almost an inch long, that separated the grungy fur. It did not bleed, however, and the exposed pink flesh looked otherwise healthy. He supposed the animal had kept it clean for some time on its own.

The little thing didn't even notice when Vlad vanished, reappearing moments later with a small yellow tube. It sniffed around, huffing against the stone, as it searched for any remaining tuna. Its tongue lapped at the ground, trying to eat any last traces, and it didn't seem to care as Vlad squeezed some antibiotic ointment onto the tip of his finger and reached out to rub it along the cut. It turned to smell his hand, but when he offered no more food, it turned away.

It kept its tail in the air, the tip a loose curve as it looked to the man. Vlad looked at the ointment he still held.

It would heal the beast long enough for it to leave his property. Out past the line of his gardens it could die or be eaten as it pleased.

It rained during the night, but had cleared by morning. The line of storms must have been weakening. He was on his porch once more, holding a plate of shredded tuna. It was silly, he told himself. If the animal wasn't dead, it was at least long gone.

The moment he laid the plate on the ground, an off-white blur pounced on it. The ragged thing chewed loudly and noisily, smacking its lips and making a stuttering grumbling noise somewhere beneath its matted fur. Again, it didn't mind as Vlad put more ointment on its wound, far more interested in the sudden appearance of food.

Once the meal was finished, the creature looked up at Vlad. It opened it mouth to squeak before curling up on his left loafer. He made a face at the grit and the smell, and tried not to smile as it continued its feeble little rumbles.

The sky was still gray, but it hadn't rained for 24 hours. The whole state of Wisconsin held its breath as it waited to see if dry conditions would finally be bestowed upon it.

Vlad took the opportunity to examine his grounds. He would have to create a thorough list of what needed to be trimmed and weeded and replanted for when he called his landscaper. He stepped lightly down his porch steps and had barely touched the stone walkway when a white-ish pile of fur appeared by his feet.

He raised an eyebrow at the animal and it blinked slowly, tail held aloft and curved deeply. He placed down its plate of tuna, treated its healing wound, and walked into his gardens, certain the creature would enjoy its meal and go back to under his porch. But at his movement, the animal looked up, fish falling from a long whisker, and it hurried to catch up with him. Vlad wondered what it was doing, following him, but it didn't seem deterred that he had no more food and that the remaining pile of tuna was already being investigated by a curious ant. He wanted to shrug and tell it "do as you will" but it was silly to talk to an animal.

He walked through the damp grass, the little bundle walking beside him. It kept pace with the man's long strides, and when he paused to examine some broken and torn brush, it sat patiently. Never once did the beast wander away, or further than eyesight at least, and when it lagged behind to investigate an odd flower or fallen branch, it would quickly bound up next to him with a squeak.

Such a long task, often so lonely, left him smiling as he walked back to his mansion. The little creature watched as he stood on his porch, waiting. It didn't duck back under the step, nor did it try and eat off the plate, now swarming with surviving ants. Instead, it bounced up the stairs, squeaking happily. Vlad hesitated. Then, with a smooth movement, he reached down and picked up the rattly little beast.

He could feel the kitten's purring deep in his core.

A/N: I based this origin story on how my husband and I obtained our latest kitten. Now Jeanne is obsessed with taking care of my husband and will run over to investigate at the slightest cough. It is absolutely precious~