--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Charred Cupcake: Name: Cupcake/Char || Gender: Female || Personality: Independent, proud || Kin: Fox (brother), Spider (brother), Shadow (sister), Pebble (mother), Rain (daughter), River (son) || Likes: Swimming, climbing, being a stray, living with humans || Dislikes: Other cats, badgers, foxes I stretch on the windowsill, purring in the sun. I have a good life now, living with humans. But not always. I look up and purr as my human pets me. It’s cute that they think they own me. But back to my story. I was a stray, born, and raised. My mother, Pebble, had four kits, which was very unusual. What was even more unusual was that they all survived. Well, past kithood. My brother, Spider, got killed in a fight when he was about a year old. Then there were the three of us. Char, Fox, and Shadow. It was a pack, we were always together. Everybody knew not to mess with us, our father was one of the fiercest cats in the city. After one cat made the mistake of stealing our prey, nobody bothered us again. We got into a lot of trouble, picking fights, and taking food from humans. I remember once Shadow stole a whole chicken leg, she got lots of scratches from the rocks they threw at us. We had no fear back then. It seems boring, living in the same place all the time. Of course, it was to us. By the time we were six or seven months, we knew every part of our territory. The four of us (Spider was still alive at the time) ran away to explore someplace else. We got out of the city and to a nice place with not many humans. We stayed there for months, learning how to hunt, swim, climb, everything we needed. We would’ve stayed there forever, but we came to a problem. Too many foxes and badgers thought they owned the place. We eventually left, returning to our city. It was fun though, we got a taste of another life. When we were kits, we used to jump off of dumpsters and fences. It was fun, the woosh of the air as we leaped and the clean landings we practiced. We were always told to look our best, whatever we were doing, and we counted jumping as one of those things. I did break my leg once, jumping off a particularly high fire-escape ladder. There were humans chasing us all, I didn’t have time to make a good landing. At least it wasn’t worse. I remember when my brother died like it was yesterday, the only thing I didn’t understand was why. He never did anything to those cats who killed him. We’d never seen them before, or so I thought. I found out later that he’d been taunting them, hunting on their territory, and never getting in trouble because of our father. Normally, my father would be permitted - expected, even - to go after the cats that killed Spider. This wasn’t normal. The taunting was fine, hunting on another territory was more ‘if you’re ok with probably getting killed’ thing, but still allowed. What made this not normal was that they didn’t attack Spider, they left him in peace. But Spider continued. They had every right to do what they did, according to our alley rules. It killed my mother, knowing that she couldn’t do anything. My father never spoke to us after that, never protected us. It was shame on his family, his reputation. In the other strays’ eyes, it was my father’s fault, he should’ve taught his kits better. When I got to be old, I had kits of my own. Rain and River, odd names for strays. It was to remind me of my time out of the city, with my siblings. I knew the rules, my brother died dishonorably, I would be exiled if I named a kit after him. I watched my kits grow up, teaching them the rules, to never do what Spider did. They left, had kits, found their own territory and homes. I knew I wouldn’t survive on my own for much longer. I left to find a new home, maybe the place I went with my siblings. However, I couldn’t remember where it was. I was just wandering around when some humans found me. They took me in, brought me to their home. I’ve lived there for ages, sometimes I hunt, but I don’t want to take from the cats that need it. Cupcake, they call me. I’m glad I have them to take care of me when I can’t. I purr as my human pets me. I don’t know what she’ll do when I’m gone. I smile, resting my head on my paws. I know that every day could be my last, I try to make the best of them. I close my eyes, the sun warming my fur as I sink into sleep. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The art belongs to @daisykitty or whoever wins the WTA. I wrote the story. Honestly, I like this one best out of all of the stories I've written.