Hey guys! Here's the next chapter for Tame Him. i hope thou all enjoy it. Please read and review! Thanks!


Step 2: Feed Him

Not many people know this, but a majority of pet outdoor cats are adopted after being strays. Stray cats have tendencies towards aggression so they are hard to tame but all you really need is for the right owner to be matched to the right cat. Then have the prospective owner give the stray cat a little food and he'll be putty in their hands.


I heard the door of the pinkie's house open. It was 5 am. No one was up yet, not even her. I felt my ears perk up, involuntarily, showing my curiosity.

I had never taken any interest in the people who lived in towns. They were always too boring or too mean for me to care about them. In the case of Amy she was boring, or so I had thought. I had seen her get into conflicts with many people in the village, especially the fat chipmunk woman and they always ended with a visit to the Sheriff. In all the towns I had been in there were always a few girls like her. Then they would either get mated or disappear. The problem would be disposed of when that happened. I never gave it much thought but...wow. Did everyone know about this? Did anyone care? Her circumstances weren't as extreme as mine but they were too similar to ignore. We were both cast outs.

I saw Pinkie step out with a plate full of pancakes stacked up on each other. The aroma of freshly baked batter and melting butter reached me. I took a whiff, torturing myself with what I could never have. She stood in the door way nervously, making sure no one would see her. When she confirmed no one was watching she left the plate on the front step and darted back inside, closing the door behind her. I stared at the pancakes for a second before registering what just happened. My survival instincts kicked in. In a flash of blue I safely took the breakfast up to my oak tree. Before I could eat the first actual good meal I'd ever had in my life I noticed a flimsy scrap of paper.

It read:

Dear Mr. Thief

I don't know if you can read or not. But if you can, please accept this food as a pity gift.

Sincerely,

Amy Rose/the girl who kicked your ass last night

I puzzled over the note for a second. I could read. The question of whether I could read well was different. After a while of recalling my early teachings from a charitable old lady when I was six I figured out the jist of it. What I knew now was that Pinkie's actual name was Amy. She was feeding me. Last of all, she was too proud to admit that this food was an apology. What a stubborn girl. I took a bite of the first pancake on the stack and added another thing to my list of things I knew about Amy. Her pancakes were delicious.


My heart thumped when I entered the marketplace. These visits to the downtown shopping area were always scary. Things always either went really well or really badly.

Well, it was time to get to work. I found a quiet corner of a street and sat there, feigning sickness. I shivered and hugged myself. That wasn't pretend. The way people told Wildlings from the others was our lack of cloths. It was illegal for us to wear them. I actually was cold from the nip of the frosty autumn weather. Some people looked at me in disgust. Other's in pity. A couple ass holes threw me money. I pretended I was grateful but it irked me. I wasn't sure if they were just dumb or mocking me. It was illegal to sell things to a Wildling. Money was of no use to me. What I really wanted was food. Sympathetic people handed me bags of chips and bread. Lazy people tossed me their half-eaten sandwiches. I didn't care. I wasn't picky. As long as my stomach was filled I was content.

A day of cowering in false fear was over. It had been pretty successful. I got a half-eaten sandwich, a bottle of luke warm water and 20 dollars worth of change. It was a good day. I held the change firmly in one hand. For a second I imagined buying something, a loaf of bread, a new pair of shoes...a coat. The idea of owning something as precious as a coat was tempting. I could walk through the city and no one would think twice about me. I could get a job. I could save some money. I could buy a warm cozy house in the village. But it was impossible. No one would ever sell me a coat. It seemed like a waste to throw the money away though. Some people would kill for just a cent let alone 20 dollars. I thought for a second. How can I use this? Amy's face popped into my mind. She was helpless, fragile. I felt sorrow fill me when I thought of her. She couldn't get a new home. She had no money to leave if she got evicted. Wait...no money. I had an idea. I wasn't sure if 20 dollars would get her out of the area but it was sure as hell better than nothing.


The next morning was just like the one before. I woke up early to the sound of Amy banging the door shut. On her porch sat a plate full of bacon, scrambled eggs and a crescent role. Yum. I swiftly took the food like I had on the first day. When I got there I dropped the handful of change in the plate's place and made sure I knocked hard on the door. I leapt back up into the tree and watched as Amy stuck her head out the door, looking for the knocker. Then, finally, she looked down to see the money I had left her. She scooped it up in both hands and stared at it with wide eyes. She looked around for me but I made sure I was hidden well in the thick canopy of leaves.

"Thank you," I heard her whisper, making sure any stray neighbours wouldn't hear her. I watched her retreating figure as she went back inside.

A warmth I had never felt before filled my gut. She was a pest, a mere city dweller but it satisfied me that I could do something for her. It made me unbearably satisfied. No, that's not the word. Satisfied is when you get enough. I felt like I had more than enough. Was I...happy?


I entered the city again and found a new corner to curl up in. I had gotten another good lot of food until a big guy started walking by with a couple friends. They were laughing too loudly and walking as though they were dizzy. As they came closer I noticed their eyes were bloodshot. The big guy approached me and held his hand out to me.

"Look, ain't he cute?" He asked his buddy. "Come here kitty, come on. I'll give ya a treat if you come here."

Was he really gonna do this? I was not in the mood to be treated like stray cat. It was surprisingly common for this to happen. A rabbit girl once grabbed me and asked her mother if she could keep me. The strange thing is her mother considered it. I was nothing more than an animal to these people.

I got up and started to walk away. They followed me.

"Don't be grumpy," the big guy whined. "My mate's always wanted a pet Wildling. She's a gentle one. She'll take care of you."

No way was I being the pet of some drunk guy's mate.

"Please stop following me," I stated. I kept moving and people watched curiously as we passed. They wanted to see if the man would manage to keep me.

"Cool!" Exclaimed one of the man's friends. "He talks!"

At the announcement of this skill people began to crowd around me and the men who were following me. They were interested. This I understood. Most Wildlings didn't speak. We communicate with each other through body language. Why would we need to speak?

"You'll make a great pet." The man reached out to pet my quills and I smacked his hand away. "You could use a little training though."

His friends approached. They started grabbing at me, trying to catch me. I dodged and ran, pushing my way through the crowd. I couldn't go at full speed. Too many people tried to get in my way. I heard people mutter as I ran by.

'Why doesn't he just go with him?'

'Pet Wildlings are always pretty pampered.'

'What's wrong with being a pet?'

There was something wrong, terribly wrong with being a pet. I was no one's property.

The man was still following me. He was hot on my trail. People purposely stepped in front of me to slow me down. He was getting closer and closer. I felt his breath to down my neck. With a leap he tackled me to the ground. Everyone cheered and congratulated him. I struggled but he was bigger than me. I couldn't get up.

"I can't be your pet!" I yelled.

"Too bad, cause you're mine now!"

"No he's not!"

A sharp female voice raised above the sound of the cheering crowd. It boomed despite it's high pitch. People spread apart to let through a familiar girl. Amy Rose.

Whispers rose from everyone. I caught bits and pieces like 'evicted' and 'mate.'

Amy stood in front of me and the man, towering over our lying figures with her arms crossed.

"Is there a problem Miss Rose?" The man asked with mock politeness. He got off of me and Amy helped me up.

"Yes," she answered firmly. "As you know, I'm a single female."

"Yes," the man chuckled. "The whole town worries for your safety Miss. It would be convenient for all of us if you would find someone to take care of you."

She looked like she was going to snap again but took in a deep breath instead. "Quite," she hesitantly agreed. "But in the absence of such a care taker, or a mate, I've adopted this Wildling here as my...guard dog."

The man frowned. "But Sarah's wanted a pet Wildling for ages. Couldn't we have him?"

"If I'm in so much danger as a single female should you really be depriving me of my only protection?"

The man was caught off guard for a second. Amy had managed to turn his own sexist attitude against him. She was actual pretty clever when she managed to keep her cool. From months of observing her from the tree I knew that keeping her cool was nearly impossible.

"I suppose it would be immoral of me to keep him," he groaned. Amy snorted in victory.

"Come on Sonic, you can come home with me now."

Amy didn't grab me or exert her control over me. She just told me to. It was clearly my choice whether I wanted to follow her or not. I took a step away from the crowd and followed Amy to her home.


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