Nepeta Leijon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pawsitivelynepeta) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bigapplesauce2013-02-06 07:27 pm
pawsitivelynepeta) wrote in bigapplesauce2013-02-06 07:27 pm
Entry tags:
[Closed] Caaaaat
It's so easy to lose track of the days, Nepeta finds, in this strange world, cut off from her friends. On Alternia, she structured her schedule around their online presences; she didn't think in hours so much as times at which Equius or Karkat or Terezi would be likely to show up on Trollian. It wasn't that different from the various beasts that she hunted in the wilderness surrounding her hive. They, too, were more likely to be up and about at various points, and she adapted accordingly.
Here, in what she's learned is called "Central Park," she's changed her hunting patterns to suit the environment. Humans, she's learned, do not take well to it when she tries to hunt the alien barkbeasts that they lead around on leashes. Neither do they seem to approve of her snatching any of the local fowl, if they catch sight of her while she's hunting. All in all, the biggest challenge seems to be getting food without the humans noticing - any easy enough task. They're not terribly observant, Nepeta has learned. They are always on their phones and tablets and portable music players, never aware of their own surroundings.
(Of course, she could do what seems to be normal on this planet and live in one of those towering hives and pay for human food in one of those "stores" or "restaurants," but she can't bring herself to make the adjustment. It's simply too unnatural.)
All in all, there's been ample prey to keep her going in and just around the park. She hasn't been back to that apartment the humans gave her for weeks: not since she found this lovely cave near the lake and settled in. It is a perfect setup - the humans don't seem to be able to find the entrance, despite the fact that it doesn't let in water or too much cold air and is thus an ideal spot for a respiteblock.
Lately, this little cave is even starting to feel like home. Nepeta has been busy making it habitable; the cold stone floor is almost completely covered with hides, by this point. One of these - that of a hoofbeast that she felled and dragged back on a particularly dark and cold night - makes her feel a little guilty. What would Equius think, after all? Still, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. There are candles, perched on the rough natural shelves and alcoves of the cave walls, and matches that she stole from the nearest human store. She's even coaxed quite a few of the local cats - both strays and those odd ones with the glowing eyes and love of mysterious statements - into sharing the space with her. They come and go as they please, but she shares her kills with them when she can, and offers them a safe and warm place to curl up during the cold nights.
Tonight, she feels unusually contented with her situation. She has been unusually lucky; one of those extremely tiny, shivering barkbeasts with bulging gander bulbs got lost from its human and wandered a little too near to her cave. Nepeta never says no to an easy snack. She sits cross-legged in her new hive, humming to herself in happiness as she gnaws away at a small bone. There are a half dozen cats in there at the moment. Two are sleeping, one is having a bath, one is trying to knock over the stack of homemade cat toys (duck feathers tied to the end of reeds from the lake), one has its glowing eyes fixed contemplatively on Nepeta's wall paintings, and the others are pacing around her, yowling and waiting to be given scraps.
Here, in what she's learned is called "Central Park," she's changed her hunting patterns to suit the environment. Humans, she's learned, do not take well to it when she tries to hunt the alien barkbeasts that they lead around on leashes. Neither do they seem to approve of her snatching any of the local fowl, if they catch sight of her while she's hunting. All in all, the biggest challenge seems to be getting food without the humans noticing - any easy enough task. They're not terribly observant, Nepeta has learned. They are always on their phones and tablets and portable music players, never aware of their own surroundings.
(Of course, she could do what seems to be normal on this planet and live in one of those towering hives and pay for human food in one of those "stores" or "restaurants," but she can't bring herself to make the adjustment. It's simply too unnatural.)
All in all, there's been ample prey to keep her going in and just around the park. She hasn't been back to that apartment the humans gave her for weeks: not since she found this lovely cave near the lake and settled in. It is a perfect setup - the humans don't seem to be able to find the entrance, despite the fact that it doesn't let in water or too much cold air and is thus an ideal spot for a respiteblock.
Lately, this little cave is even starting to feel like home. Nepeta has been busy making it habitable; the cold stone floor is almost completely covered with hides, by this point. One of these - that of a hoofbeast that she felled and dragged back on a particularly dark and cold night - makes her feel a little guilty. What would Equius think, after all? Still, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. There are candles, perched on the rough natural shelves and alcoves of the cave walls, and matches that she stole from the nearest human store. She's even coaxed quite a few of the local cats - both strays and those odd ones with the glowing eyes and love of mysterious statements - into sharing the space with her. They come and go as they please, but she shares her kills with them when she can, and offers them a safe and warm place to curl up during the cold nights.
Tonight, she feels unusually contented with her situation. She has been unusually lucky; one of those extremely tiny, shivering barkbeasts with bulging gander bulbs got lost from its human and wandered a little too near to her cave. Nepeta never says no to an easy snack. She sits cross-legged in her new hive, humming to herself in happiness as she gnaws away at a small bone. There are a half dozen cats in there at the moment. Two are sleeping, one is having a bath, one is trying to knock over the stack of homemade cat toys (duck feathers tied to the end of reeds from the lake), one has its glowing eyes fixed contemplatively on Nepeta's wall paintings, and the others are pacing around her, yowling and waiting to be given scraps.