7 September 2006

Kitty by Bela Luna

Disclaimer: I do not own No Rest for the Wicked ( w w w . f o r t h e w i c k e d . n e t). That lovely comic is by Andrea L. Peterson, an Icarus Falls Production.

This is my second attempt for one fic challenge, as presented by the excellent Miss Kelsi Parker: November with kittens.


As par usual, Red, November, and Perrault were walking through a patch of trees. Evertime they left someplace, they seemed to walk through any woods, forests, or even trees, that they could find. November reasoned that it was because that Red was more comfortable in such an enviroment, but, still, it was rather creepy. And dark. Very, very dark.

November breathed in sharply. She hadn't expected to see the bright sky and blinding sun so soon. She glanced behind her. It seemed like neither of her companions had expected it either. Red discreetly pulled her hood down closer to her eyes, and Perrault's pupils contracted to thin strips of ebony.

They had come to a dirt road and, just on the other side, was a crop field. Beyond the field was another stretch of trees. November sighed. She was becoming quite sick of trees. It wouldn't make any difference to her if she never saw another leaf again, and then winced at a memory of an innocent-looking leaf ramming her cheekbone.

She shut her eyes briefly as she took a wide step to miss the small puddle.

A loud shriek caused her wide, green eyes to fly open. She felt her balance failing her, and though of the horrible little puddle that would ruin her clothes and batter her skin.

Perrault's strong hands caught her and helped her right herself.

"Thank you, Master Perrault," she said, dazed. "But what in the world was that?"

November looked at Perrault with puzzlement when he didn't reply, but, instead looked down at where he was staring. It was a-

"Kitten!" November cried with delight, scooping it up.

"Yes," Perrault said coldly, glaring at the little fluffy thing.

November stroked its snowy-white fur. It was just so soft, and had the greenest cat eyes she had ever seen. It butted its slight chin in the crook of her neck, purring gently but loudly.

"She such a wonderful cat," she said, a smile tugging on the corners of her lips.


"What?" November turned around.

"That wonderful cat of yours," Perrault said, his dislike ill disguised, "is a male."

November looked down at the little thing. She honestly didn't care of the gender, but it make her wonder as to why Perrault seemed to hate it so, and just why November thought that Red was trying to suppress a grin and a laugh.


I am feeling better. I feel like writing, but not drawing or singing. I guess I'm just in a really bad funk. I start school tomorrow.