![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Room 322, Saturday Morning
Nov. 22nd, 2014 09:18 amThere was a cat mrowling on the boy’s chest.
There was a cat there, and his first thoughts as he shifted into consciousness were that he was going to get into trouble for letting the beast in the house again so soon after Dad had chewed him out for allowing the old tom to sleep on the clean laundry. (Not that he remembered letting the cat in last night to start with, but his father didn’t tend to be particular about that sort of detail.) The boy frankly felt that it was far too early to be yelled at, so he decided to get the cat outside before anyone else was awake.
“Shh,” he counseled the black-and-white kitten, frowning when he realized it wasn’t any of the barn cats they kept to chase the rats away. “You aren’t one of ours, are you? Hang on and I’ll get some cold chicken from the pantry, but then you need to go right back outside and find your way home.”
He slid out of bed then, letting the cat spring to the floor, and realized it hadn’t been his bed and wasn’t his room. Wasn’t like any room he’d been in, in fact, with the paintings right on the wall. And there was a pile of fine gold stuff that looked like hair (but was too long and brilliant to be any hair he’d ever seen) on the other side, with the slightest curve of a face poking out from the strands.
( Gently, he reached out to touch some of the hair. He didn’t mean to disturb the person it was attached to –- he just couldn’t believe it was real. )
[OOC:Preplayed with the delightfully refreshing![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
likes_ducklings. Establishy.]
There was a cat there, and his first thoughts as he shifted into consciousness were that he was going to get into trouble for letting the beast in the house again so soon after Dad had chewed him out for allowing the old tom to sleep on the clean laundry. (Not that he remembered letting the cat in last night to start with, but his father didn’t tend to be particular about that sort of detail.) The boy frankly felt that it was far too early to be yelled at, so he decided to get the cat outside before anyone else was awake.
“Shh,” he counseled the black-and-white kitten, frowning when he realized it wasn’t any of the barn cats they kept to chase the rats away. “You aren’t one of ours, are you? Hang on and I’ll get some cold chicken from the pantry, but then you need to go right back outside and find your way home.”
He slid out of bed then, letting the cat spring to the floor, and realized it hadn’t been his bed and wasn’t his room. Wasn’t like any room he’d been in, in fact, with the paintings right on the wall. And there was a pile of fine gold stuff that looked like hair (but was too long and brilliant to be any hair he’d ever seen) on the other side, with the slightest curve of a face poking out from the strands.
( Gently, he reached out to touch some of the hair. He didn’t mean to disturb the person it was attached to –- he just couldn’t believe it was real. )
[OOC:Preplayed with the delightfully refreshing
likes_ducklings. Establishy.]
