PA 3.5: End of a Tail

Chapter IV Part II

He took a step into the shower, letting the water pang against his fur and slide down before he brought some shampoo up to his head and started scrubbing the blood and dirt out.

Patches knew, back in Infurno, there was an eternity to spend kicking around the place. While finding ways to taunt and torture his peers was a great way to pass the time, the lack of any real physical contact was boring.

He knew it wouldn't take an eternity for him to start being eaten up by the knowledge Angel was running around in his old body, content and happy with his life.

The water was getting colder, and constant adjustments were needed to keep it in check. The house's decrepit heater had been busted for years now, but Patches had gotten used to cold water and no baths. He found himself longing for a shower like Olive's; the comfiness of their house reminded him of the joys of luxury.

He fondly remembered Olive standing around in their bathroom with him, the mutt seemingly not grasping the concept of Patches' privacy after days of keeping a 'close' eye on him. He had to rudely point out that Olive needed to leave the room before they realized how awkward they were being. Remembering the uncomfortable situation almost made Patches smile.

Patches winced in pain as he started going over the wounds on his body with soap. He had a paw scrubbing away at a large lump on his forehead, peeling back his fur to watch the purple flesh pulse red as he poked at it. The blood came out of his coat in small clumps, and he frustratedly tried to get the red stains out of his perfectly blanche hair.

"Out, damned spot!" he softly yelled, the wound on his head opening as he scrubbed away the dirt and blood. He ran his head under the cool water, keeping it there until the blood stopped flowing and his face was clean enough to use conditioner on, then he started scrubbing.

The soap stung against each bruise; were he in a bath, the whole thing would've been filled with stray hair, blood, and dirt. Patches winced as he slowly and carefully scrubbed away at the injury over his leg, noting its depth and judging it as nothing more than a particularly deep scratch.

Once out of the shower, Patches grabbed a small first aid kit from below the sink. He placed the thing onto the porcelain, then looked forward, sighing.

As grey eyes met his own in the mirror, he paused, staring at the creature before him. He looked at his dull orbs and narrowed them, giving off a fierce smile in practice for the ones he'd show off to his future victims. He couldn't help but tug at his jowls, using his blunt claws to stretch back his cheek and observe the row of sharp incisors, jutting canines, thick premolars and molars, all of which he had built up over a lifetime of meticulous dental hygiene and the occasional rawhide treat for himself to gnaw on. He took comfort in his elongated muzzle and pronounced teeth, far more fit for sinking into a blood-fraught jugular than Angel's were- should such an opportunity present itself.

Speaking of the cat... Patches took his claw from his mouth and let his jowls cover his pearly whites once more before running those same claws through the fur on his cheek. He noted the depth of the fur, just as he had felt it in the shower. His face went soft as he observed how pliable the cream-colored strands were.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled in frustration. He hated how soft and malleable his fur was- both results of how long his fur has gotten, both reminders of why it was long. "As much as I'd love to, I have more pressing things to do than spend an hour giving myself a trim- no matter how desperately needed," he said, taking a towel from the nearby rack and beginning to dry himself.

There was an alien weight bouncing around just behind his head, only now noticeable due to the extra heft it had while soaked. Patches paused his towelling to look back into the mirror, grabbing the base of his newfound ponytail and tilting his head to the side so he could look at it from the corner of his vision. His cold grey eyes followed the extra length of hair like a stone floating across a pond, blinking only when he was done cursing the cat for his awful obsession with long fur.