shelter DEAR THEODOSIA // shelter (intro)

[THEO]

THEO ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

The once named "Jazzy" had been curious ever since she let out her first mew, as most kittens were. The moment she could open her eyes and walk she had been quite the rascal for her mother to keep up with, especially when teamed up to her white-furred brother. Her curiosity had not dwindled when the day came for her to go to her new home, the goodbye to her kin had been hasty before she was placed in a metal crate, filled with soft material she now knew to call a blanket. Several moons had passed since that day and the milky scent of her mother and the voice of her brother has been forgotten, while a sad thought to many it was the way of life for a kittypet kit. Inevitable, bound to happen. Her true family now rested with her twolegs, particularly the adolescent she-girl who had bestowed Jazzy her new name, Theo. Her dear twoleg friend had left the twoleg nest early in the morning as she typically did, and playing and chewing up cords had grown boring to Theo... Peanut, her old and lazy cat companion of her housefolks nest was boring... So as the door creeks open Theo bolts out, a rush of excitement overwhelming her when for the first time ever she feels grass on her paws and the wind in her fur. Never had the torbie meant to leave her housefolk's den forever, no! She loved it there, and she loved her twolegs ferociously... But a she-kit had to live a little, you know? But she had made a grave mistake. The trap had closed suddenly and no matter how hard she pawed at the metal mesh it would not break through, she cries for her beloved twoleg but she does not come. Upwalkers who are strangers to her pick her up, and at first she expects to be taken back to her den... but she goes somewhere dark, some place scary. The scents of many cats flood her nose, and the constant cries are so loud they feel deafening. Eventually she is pushed out of her small crate, only to find herself in a slightly bigger one. There were scarce few toys, a blanket, kibble, and a small area of sand to make dirt. Instinctively Theo huddles in fear at the back of her crate, she lowers herself and folds her ears backwards. The only thing she can think to do is to join in on the chorus of cries coming from her fellow trapped felines. //yeah its a hamilton lyric i must shun 12 yr old me for my sins :((( she is 6 moons old, def not a kit to the clan standards despite my descriptive words for her! very tiny and scared

 

[CHALK]

⭒✧ The soreness of the Cutter had worn low now, and Chalk found himself about to pay better attention to his environment. The tom was rewarded with little of interest, other than the dramatic removal of one of the clancats. It had been deeply unsettling, even as a bystander. Now, the sterile hall was back to its usual flat buzz of gravelled tones and prickling mewling.

The clang of a new arrival broke the slow slant of time. Chalk rose from the warm bundle he lay on, watching with a narrowed gaze. A grey pelt, rutilated with amber and quartz, was just barely visible across and below him. They looked young.

Chalk blinked, indecisive, before clearing his throat. "You’re new." His words were crisp, volume just right to cut through the audio smog. "Did you have housefolk or do you avoid their like? Sharing your story is the trend in here." What little he’d been able to discern from the others in this place, talking seemed to help newcomers out of their shell- and that was surely helpful. ​

⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒​

 

[THEO]

THEO ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

A tremble courses through her body before she hears a voice, crisp through the cries of cats. Hesitantly she looks to the side of her cage, through the metal bars she could make out blue eyes looking back at her. A cat she's never seen before, trapped here like herself. His disposition was far calmer than Theo's could manage to make her own, how long had he been here for...? Limbs carried by tiny paws try to straighten themselves, her claws trying to grip into the cool floor of her cage to no avail. The blanket laid down within had been kicked about and pushed to the side, no longer aiding her with traction. "I have housefolk." She mews, raising her head to make herself appear more capable, less weak. Were there cats here who didn't have housefolk? She's heard Peanut talk about cats like that before, but she thought it to be entirely made up. Some sort of queens-tale he was trying to fool her into believing. "Where are we?!" Or perhaps it was true, maybe wildcats did exist... Cats who fought every day to survive, cats who'd shed blood for it, cats who ate bones for breakfast.