On the Nature of Farm Cats

Wow, this Quinn girl was really turning out to be something else. She lived out here, and she'd never seen a horse before? I hadn't thought that was possible. Now, it seemed, she was sulking up on the roof. I reached up and patted one of the horses on the neck, quietly half-laughing to myself.

One of the cows was staring at me. I'd never liked the things ever since I was little and one of my uncle's cows had tried to munch on my hand. It was probably an accident because I was doing things I most likely shouldn't have anyway, but the incident had still impacted me just a little. I returned the stare at the cow for a few moments, thinking, and then a thin, grey cat walked into the barn and glared around at everyone with the eyes of my old principal - he was a bitter old man who enjoyed only seeing children crushed.

The cat looked up at me, and I bent over to pick it up.

"Careful," Brian said, "That one isn't the friendliest."

Despite Brian's warning, though, I picked the cat up and she seemed perfectly happy. She purred and nuzzled my arm as I stood there with the others who were quietly talking amongst themselves.

After stroking the cat for so long that even my injured wing was in pain because of how tired my arm was, I stopped. Angry at this sudden stop, the cat glared up at me and bit my arm - not hard, but enough to cause me to drop her. She immediately ran a few feet before looking back at me and then crept off into the darkness.

"Told you," said Brian as I stared after the cat.

Looking at the others - Other what? I thought, Bird People? - I asked the inevitable question.

"So," I began, catching the attention of several of the others, "What now?"

The End

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