Random Story Snippets (story starters)

Eyes of blue.

Eyes of blue. Fur of grey. Pink paws, and a flat face. Short, stubby tail, and weak little legs. My baby was perfect, and unusually an only child. My person was fond of carressing my daughters fluff, running its fingers over her small body, and lifting my fragile child into the air, to rest against my persons breast. I did not worry as some mothers would, for I knew I could trust my person. No matter how distasteful an act my person performed, I had found it almost always benefitted myself or my kit in the long run.

My person was a loud one at times, chattering at me in the language of people non-stop, sometimes more than it did to its own kind. Its voice would raise to alarming levels, though I could always tell if it were upset, or was just in one of its strange moods, were it would seem restless, and continuously move and talk at me. It had not yet attempted this behaviour around my daughter though I knew it would be soon.

I had been a mother now for a total of two weeks exactly today. My daughters eyes had opened two days ago, though my sense of time was flawed slightly. My person did not let me out of the room we shared very often anymore. My rights to go outside had been taken the moment my person had realised I was to be a mother. It had also stopped handling me so much, too. That did bother me a little.

Recently, I assume in an attempt to rid myself and my daughter of the biters, my person has begun using its own method of cleaning us. Using that liquid that is supposed to hydrate an animal, not soak it. My daughter is placed into a pool of water, held in the area my persons feed bowls go after use. The feed bowls are always gone though when my kitten is put in. It hurts my heart to hear my daughter protest the way she does when put in that unnatural liquid. My person always puts me up beside the water to show me my daughters fate, the tone of its speak always comforting, always ensuring I know my daughter is not pained. I know she is only scared.

My person does this to myself also, though in a different, less effective way. Everyday my person removes its top skin, and steps into a tall chamber. Always submitting itself to the torture of falling water that rises up, and heats the air. Somedays, I am forced to join it. The sound of liquid falling has always brought my fur on end, at that scale, it is so much worse.

The water is not cool like sky water when it hits my fur to soak my skin, but a warm that shouldn't be possible. The noise is horrendous, and the claustrophobic space always steals my breath even before the rising water can. I do not enjoy those cleaning sessions with my person. It sometimes holds me against soft, furless skin in an embrace before turning a shiny thing, and letting the water fall. Sometimes I am left to paw in fear at a clear wall as the hot liquid attacks another wall, before cooling slowly and stops burning my paws. As it moves to attack the floor.

My person is not the only person to live on my territory. I have suspicions that my person is young, and is much like my kitten, dependent on its dam and sire. The two persons who I believe to be my persons parents, are at times, louder than my person. They touch small objects, and loud noises erupt from them, made louder most times by tall things I get yelled at if I touch.

My person has once shown me to two small persons. The smaller of which, seemed afraid of me, before becoming brave and attempting to lift me into the air upside down. My person stopped that though. The two small persons lead me to believe my person is not too young, yet, is still dependent whilst independent at once.

The nature and life of my person was very confusing. But I trust my person imensely, and will continue to watch and study it, as I try to prove to the cat next territory, that my person is female. According to the male cat who could conceive no kittens, female persons wore longer fur upon their heads, though he forgets that is not recquired. Female persons, I believed, must share a trait with she-cats, and I had found, that my person and I did share a trait. Without my persons removeable fur, it held on its chest the very things that I recquired for my kitten to feed, though it baffled me why there were only two. What if my person had more than two small persons? I am sure it would hate for a small person to die because it could not feed them.

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This was completely random. Basically, I have written my life recently through the eyes of my cat. Albeit not very well.

The last bit is just weird, so excuse me while I go drown myself in a toilet.