E
EIGENGRAU
Guest
When Eigengrau wasn't out annoying the skin off of any unfortunate cat that he happened to come across, he was scavenging for food. He was but a mere man, and a man had to eat. He could prattle on and on about how food was necessary, and spin it all into a hackneyed poem - but he was sure that it had been heard all too much before. (There were no good ideas ripe for the picking, he oft-complained. All the good ones were either pretentious or trite, and mostly both.) The spindly-statured tom trailed at the feet of concrete trees, as though he walked at the behest of the concrete forest, as though he ultimately bowed to the titans of sprawling architecture. He pondered, for a while, how such straight-edged woodlands could grow. He had never seen a seedling for this kind of tree, so he figured they must be rare. He'd find one, surely! For now, he dared not look upwards lest he lose himself in the miasma of the city. He shot darting, furtive glances before leaping from a pool of shadow to another, like he was one with the gloom of his home, as if he had been birthed from oil spills and pollution's blood. He hardly even knew his parents, so that was as good as an explanation as any.
Today was his lucky day, like every day was. An upturned bucket with gaudily symmetrical striping lie before him, right next to the trash cans, as though the sweet siren's song led him to such a marvel. He learned that simply following one's nose and whiskers would lead one into adventure. Whether they got what they bargained for was another story. A menagerie of brownish shapes poured out from it, with strangely wrinkly skin. Or was it feathers? No, it was surely flesh, though it proved much more malleable than the paper-thin skin of fools and pierrots. They smelled of meat, and they were fresh. At least, for the kinds of scraps that the Twolegs offered them. Eigen wondered, briefly, why the Twolegs would waste such bountiful spoils. What fools! Playing right into my game! You've just afforded us, thy greatest enemy, a feast!
"Hey! Whoever's out theeere! Look at this... whatever this is! Come and get some, but make sure to leave most of it for me! After all, I'm the one who found it, and finders keepers!" The gravelly yet sprightly voice screeched through the alleyway. Perhaps he'd see some familiar faces from the rubble. Or a newcomer to grace him. Either way, he waited.
Today was his lucky day, like every day was. An upturned bucket with gaudily symmetrical striping lie before him, right next to the trash cans, as though the sweet siren's song led him to such a marvel. He learned that simply following one's nose and whiskers would lead one into adventure. Whether they got what they bargained for was another story. A menagerie of brownish shapes poured out from it, with strangely wrinkly skin. Or was it feathers? No, it was surely flesh, though it proved much more malleable than the paper-thin skin of fools and pierrots. They smelled of meat, and they were fresh. At least, for the kinds of scraps that the Twolegs offered them. Eigen wondered, briefly, why the Twolegs would waste such bountiful spoils. What fools! Playing right into my game! You've just afforded us, thy greatest enemy, a feast!
"Hey! Whoever's out theeere! Look at this... whatever this is! Come and get some, but make sure to leave most of it for me! After all, I'm the one who found it, and finders keepers!" The gravelly yet sprightly voice screeched through the alleyway. Perhaps he'd see some familiar faces from the rubble. Or a newcomer to grace him. Either way, he waited.