My Friend and My Foe in One

[spike]

The she-cat grumbled to herself about the irritation this morning had been. First, her twolegs had started hissing and spitting at each other. They barked like dogs and neither were close to calming down any time soon. Now insert an aggrivated she-cat that had been awoken all the way from the canopy of the twolegnest. Well, that was just putting her in quite a fine mood. Especially since these past few days had been nothing but fox dung anyways.

The lithe cat almost seemed to lumber into her garden with her head lowered and eyes half-lidded. She stared up at the fence that towered over her. Her tan body didn't move for a minute. She was just examining the fence, mentally testing whether she had the urge to leap its great distance or to stay in her own yard? A crash from inside her twolegnest answered it. She forced powerful muscles in her hind legs to press into her backlegs and allow her to jump high into the air until her paws met the top.

She hated the odd angles it jutted at but it would do. She forced her backpaws onto it and quickly gathered her bearings before taking off at a slow jog down the fence. They connected to the gardens beside them and she managed to cross three gardens before slowing to a very casual walk. The dog in the garden behind her yowled and howled his dismay about losing sight of her. But that didn't matter. Dogs were vicious creatures anyways. She hadn't even realized to what house she was going. She just wanted to be anywhere. And that was exactly where her paws were taking.

[Kitty]

Sitting on the roof of the tiny nest - a shed, wasn't it? - behind the nest neighboring his Twolegs' nest, the blue-gray cat could see almost everything that happened on his street. Monsters went by, Twolegs walked their dogs, attached to them by what Twolegs called a leash. Twoleg words were so...odd. He'd moved here from some other place, far off, and was still picking up on the words the cats here used. But the Twoleg words here were even stranger than the language that the cats here spoke.

A couple young cats ran by, playing chase or something, he assumed. Just like he and those two kits and that strange she-cat had the other day. Turning his head, he eyed the scratches that were just about healed by now bitterly. That she-cat, Kalahar, had done that! How...what was the word? Oh, yes, rude, that was it.

When Simón glanced back up, he nearly fell off the top of the 'shed'. Speak of the devil, he thought. Or think, rather. Here came that she-cat now, looking none too happy. He tilted his head. What was wrong with her? With a shrug, he bunched his muscles and landed smoothly on the fence which Kalahar was walking.

"Hola," he meowed, reverting back to his native tongue unintentionally. "What is the matter, Kalahar? You look like..." He trailed off, unsure of the next words. "Upset," he ended lamely.

[spike]

((Hey, Kitty, italicize the foreign stuff! Keeps it separated and points out the accent to them.))

Kalahar had been walking just down the fence but not anymore. She went from staring at her path to suddenly staring at bluish paws. She would've fallen off had her body not tensed first. Her claws dug into the wood of hte fence and she allowed her stiff neck to lift her head to meet Símon. Great. Just the cat she wanted to talk to at a time like this. The she-cat stared at him with a harsh quality deep in her pupils but eventually she saw the look on his face.

She couldn't stay mad and she didn't know why. She just sighed and made an easy leap over Símon before landing easily on the fence behind him. She took only a mere second to regain balance before walking onwards. But she said loudly enough to be heard behind her, "Since when have you cared?" she grumbled tiredly. "It's just been rough. Besides, I thought you'd wait until your cuts are fully healed before talking to me again. I find it odd that you're speaking to me at all." Her own wounds still ached in the morning but she put it aside. Cuts would heal. Better now than later anyways because how could she explain to her worrysome sister, Owlfeather, about an attacking tom that she didn't know was her friend or foe?

[Kitty]

((There was one word in the last post. xD Everyone knows what it means, too. But okayy.))

Simón had to duck down a bit so that he wouldn't get hit in the face by the she-cat's back leg as she leaped over him. He straightened up and turned on the fence to face her. Well, she really was in a hurry, wasn't she? She didn't even stop walking, and he nearly got a faceful of tail as she continued on her way, barely avoiding it by backing up a step. His paw slipped and he nearly toppled off the fence in the process. A curse in his native language escaped his mouth, and he managed to save himself only by digging his claws in to the fence.

When he regained his balance, she was several tail-lengths ahead of him, and talking. He could still hear it easily, however. The blue-gray tom hurried to catch up, and once he did he kept safely out of reach of her tail.

Simón's head tilted to the side at her first question, and he considered. Since when did he care? Hm...he wasn't sure. In the end, he shrugged. "I am not sure," he meowed, looking up at the she-cat as she continued to follow the top of the fence. With her next comment, his fur spiked up in indignation. "Why would I wait? Scratches will heal. Why should I wait until they heal to talk to you if you are just going to give me more?" He couldn't stay mad at her right now, though. She seemed upset.

"Really, though, Kalahar. I know that there is something wrong. Are your Twolegs angry with you?"

[spike]

Kalahar paused as she heard that dumb tom following her. What was it that made him continue on? Hadn’t she proved her point a couple days ago when she had tried to claw his fur off? The she-cat turned slightly, just enough to look at him. His handsome face was creased as if he was slightly angry with her. But then it just disappeared like puddles in the warmth of the sun.

Great StarClan, why did he make her so sad to be angry? But the instantly she thought of her answer, it welled up again. ”Twolegs,” she snapped hatefully, ”are annoying things. They… they fight and they attack each other very much like we would between each other. I watch them fight and I have to sit there alone. That is the problem.”

Oh, how would he know? She knew she had to go deeper into it. ”When my father died, I didn’t think this would be hard. But it is. They always said the life of a kittypet was soft. Very soft. But it’s not and I’m sick and tired of it. I’m tired of waking up every morning to them fighting. They forget to feed me sometimes and in the morning, the she-twoleg just freaks out and feeds me then. But I don’t like seeing it.” The deepest reason was that it reminded her too much of her Clan life. She had fought with her family before. She had fought with friends and lovers but never had she thought it would all cloud her later on.

”It’s that tom-twoleg’s fault! He goes around and- and pushes the she-twoleg around! I hate seeing it. It reminds me of you then. I think of you and how you and I fought. I hate thinking in general! I’m just… frustrated. It’s too much.” Her voice had grown towards the middle of her rant but then it died. Now she was whispering and she seemed highly confused by everything she had just said.

”Okay, that made no sense,” she admitted. ”I’m just overwhelmed right now. I don’t want to play this game anymore, I guess. I don’t want to keep with this family. They… they cannot get along and I don’t like being among that. I just miss my friends and I don’t want to deal with it anymore. I want to escape. Do you know that feeling?” She looked towards Símon with a strange will for his answer. She never usually cared but he had dared to approach her and push the weak barrier she put up. Now she just wanted anybody that could provide support. After all, the only other cat out there was Owlfeather, far, far in the meadows of WindClan.

[Kitty]

The blue-gray tom listened in silence as the tan she-cat raging on and on about how horrible her Twolegs were. He opened his mouth to say something more than once, only to be cut off again by the continuation of her rant. Her voice started out normal and gradually rose, growing angrier and angrier as it did so, making his ears perk. She was really getting worked up about this. And then her voice drifted off again until it was no more than a confused whisper.

Simón's automatic reaction was to brush it off in his usual arrogant way, standing up straight and tall on the fence where he was perched, head high. "What, do you not have your housefolk trained yet?" he meowed scornfully. "It is so simple, you know. Even a little kit - muy pequeño! - can do it!" His voice was its...well, not exactly snobby self, but it was a bit rude. Just a single glance over at that poor she-cat, though, was enough to make his will for keeping up his usual act falter. She looked so confused and dejected....

And that was when he realized that what he'd last said was rude and likely to earn him more scars to his pelt. Not his fur! As much as he tried to act careless about what happened to his pelt, it wasn't fun being torn to pieces by another cat. That thought was shoved right out of his mind when he continued looking at Kalahar, and his eyes softened.

"Lo siento!" he mewed quickly, rushing to get out the words. But, mousedung, she didn't understand his language! He'd fallen back into it on accident. Simón scrambled for the correct words in the she-cat's tongue. Ah, yes, that was it! "Sorry, I am sorry!" he corrected. He followed the fence until he was right beside the upset kittypet. Now, how to comfort her...he'd never had to comfort a she-cat before. Or a tom for that matter. Actually, he'd never really had to comfort any cat.

"I...I suppose I do not understand that feeling," the tom meowed uncertainly. "My housefolk are not like your housefolk. They do not argue like your Twolegs do. I have always been content with my life as a Twoleg pet. My housefolk are kind and do not forget to feed me. They worry about me if I do not come home before nightfall, and place food outside for me just in case when that happens." An idea sprang to his mind as he said that. "You know, if your housefolk forget to feed you, you are welcome to come to my nest and eat from there."

Slowly, as if unsure of his actions, Simón reached out his head and pressed his muzzled into Kalahar's shoulder. That was how cats comforted eachother, right? How should he know? He'd never had a cat come running to him seeking support. Well, she hadn't exactly come running to him, but they'd bumped into eachother on the fence. Why did this she-cat make his resolve crumble like that? It was something unknown to him, and things that were unknown were bad. Being uncertain was bad. He despised this feeling, of not knowing what to do. He was probably just as confused as poor Kalahar there!

"Where are your friends?" Simón asked - he nearly let his native tongue slip out again, but caught himself just in time. "Are they back where you come from?" He paused for a moment, considering. "That, Kalahar, is a feeling I may understand. I, too, had friends I left behind when I came here." Of course, the tan she-cat was much closer to her friends than he was to his. But he didn't really feel too attached to any of the cats he'd known in the Twolegplace he'd lived previously."But escaping is a thing I have rarely considered."

He, Simón? Escape from his Twolegs? That was suicide. The blue-gray tom had no idea how to live on his own. He couldn't hunt. He would simply steal food from other kittypets...how embarrassing. Someone such as himself becoming a thief? It was unheard of!

[:c a i:]

(( Cats won't speak Spanish. >_< They just speak... Cat.))

[spike]

((Cai, you can't assume that there is only one language of animal just as there is only one language of human. There isn't. I believe that it's possible to have different languages among animals too. He came from a different country. It'd make sense.))

[:c a i:]

((But they won't speak Spanish. They might have different varieties of Cat, but they won't speak Spanish. They wouldn't even speak English; we just have them speak it 'cause otherwise it wouldn't work for obvious reasons. But whatever.
))

[Kitty]

((Simon's language is the cat equivalent of Spanish. Its prolly not Spanish exactly, but I don't see anything wrong with it. o.O))

[spike]

This was pointless. She kept reminding herself that nobody would ever fully understand her. Okay, that was a little bit of a dark reminder and it probably wasn't fully true either. The tan tabby stared at the foreign cat for a moment before glancing down the side of the fence that was lined by forests. ThunderClan... or maybe ShadowClan resided past there. How long had it been since she'd actually explored their territories or inquired about their cats? She told herself to ask that of Owlfeather the next time to arrived at Outlook Rock to discuss it.

When he spoke to her of friends, she instantly was back on him, emerald eyes wide. Of course he of all cats would know this feeling. It was a very painful emotion to deal with. Loneliness was not her favorite piece of prey and she certainly was going to turn her nose up at it. But here she was suffering with it. "Yes, my friends are not kittypets like we are," she said in a muttered whispered. "But they are not left behind in some place I trust. Did I ever tell you I have a sister? She was like my shadow, you know."

She settled on the fence, only a couple of mouse lengths separating tom from she-cat. "Owl," Kalahar sighed. "She was my sister and we stuck through everything. She kept me on track because she was the studious one. I was not so. I was more concerned about the toms and the friends I could've been making. I wasn't concerned about learning for life ahead of me. So when the day came that I had to leave behind the world I had known, I wasn't prepared. Maybe that is why I cannot run. If I return, what would be the point? I was never much of a help anyways."

Great. She was giving herself a guilt trip. In front of Símon no less! But the story kept pouring out like the river of RiverClan after a long snow had melted. "I don't regret staying though. I've made friends here and I've had my chances but at the same time, I feel lost. Is this really where I'm supposed to be? Is this what I was supposed to do?" How would this stupid tom understand? He had no purpose to leave behind... did he? "I just don't know any more. It's days like these that make me wonder so many 'ifs' about life."

[Kitty]

Kalahar had a sister? Simón didn't know that. As she described her relationship with her sister, he felt a stab of jealousy and stared off bitterly into the forest lining one side of the fences. That lucky she-cat. She had time to grow up with her sister and form a bond with her, which was something the blue-gray tom had not had. His siblings and himself were seperated a little after a month after birth. He'd never really had a chance to know them. Couldn't even remember their names. Or how many he'd had, or whether he had sisters or brothers or both. It wasn't really something that had bothered him before, but hearing this tan she-cat describe it, it made him feel angry that he'd never had a chance to get to know his siblings and never would now.

Ugh, she was doing it again! Why did that cat make him think about stuff like this? He didn't like feeling envious. It meant that others had something he didn't. that was a bad feeling.

Blue-gray eyes turned back to face the she-cat, his emotions reflecting there. "You are lucky, you know?"Simón muttered bitterly, unwillingly. "I never got a chance to form a bond like that with any of my siblings. We were seperated soon after birth. And I will never know them now, because they still live in my original home." Heaving a sigh, the tom turned his bluish gaze to the sky. "It sounds...nice, actually. I wish I had had that chance with my siblings. I cannot remember anything about them."

Within a couple heartbeats, though, his eyes were back on the she-cat in front of him on the fence. She still seemed confused and helpless. That oh-so-annoying sympathetic feeling returned. "Well, I guess no one knows what is supposed to happen. We just have to do what we think is right and hope it all turns out okay in the end." He gave a little shrug. "It is up to you to decide whether or not you stay here or return to your first home with your sister."

His head was spinning with the so called "ifs of life" now, too. What if he'd stayed in his first home? What if he had known even one of his siblings? What if they'd all stuck together a little longer so that they could get to know eachother? Those are questions he probably should have asked a while ago, because there was no chance he could ever get a retry with those ifs. But there were some more recent ones, and they made him a bit uncomfortable. What if he hadn't bumped into Kalahar on this fence? What if they hadn't fought the other day? (He knew the answer to that one - his beautiful blue pelt wouldn't have those scratches covering it like it did now). So many ifs of life.

Simón let out a groan. "Kalahar, you have gotten me thinking about these things too. Muy bien. I hope you are happy."