Post by Psychosomatikkz on Jul 24, 2008 2:41:40 GMT -5
The sidewalk felt so rough beneath him, he could swear he could feel the ridges in the concrete carving out more of his pads with every step, making little gullies in his skin to match those he stepped over. Maybe, eventually, one of his paws would find just the right grooves and ridges and snap down like a puzzle piece, he thought. Brown eyes, dilated to full discs in the dim light, turned upwards to the nearest street lamp, the bus station, the bench that might make a good place to sit for a while. Or sleep.. If sleeping out on a bench again wasn't a depressing thought, Miles didn't know quite what was, and sighed heavily through his nose. He kept trudging on, and his tail hung limp, brushing along the concrete he strode over, and lifting each paw was lifting a ten-pound weight tied to his ankles.
It wasn't that he hadn't slept outside countless times before, and a fair amount on benches. It was that that was all he had been doing lately, for what felt like a very long time. He could usually, periodically find someone to take him home and coddle him for a while, make a house pet out of him for as long as it took him to recuperate. Or, even better, find someone that could wrap their mind around the concept that he enjoyed being treated like an intelligent person even more. It was also that, in addition to a ridiculous amount of time spent sleeping in what seemed to be increasingly awkward places, he'd spent just as much time on an involuntary hunger strike, barely getting enough into his stomach to keep himself going. When he started eating out of dumpsters, that meant he was really getting desperate. And that was where he had gotten his breakfast.
Coming to a dazed sort of halt in front of the bench, he crouched down and jerked forward in what could've been a leap, if he hadn't stopped himself at the last second. A step forward, a fidget back. Again, an aborted jump. A weary shudder ran down his body, nose to tail, and his ears twitched forlornly in the direction of his soon-to-be makeshift-bed. He was..So exhausted.. A third try and he managed to leave the ground in a sluggish sort of motion, getting half of his body atop the seat of the bench and dragging the second half after in a frantic scramble that left him sprawled out atop the wooden slats in a heap, more like a dead thing than a living cat. His collar jingled once, merrily, and he cringed. So much walking, lately, goaded on by the thought that maybe, he'd get to spend more time as a human around here..Nauseous from hunger, and his head felt airy..The jump left him dizzy.. ..I think..I'm sick.. he thought, in a vague sort of way, and maybe the dumpster-food earlier was what had made him ill.. The bench-seat beneath his gaze swam in and out of focus, black dancing shyly around his vision, and he was realizing suddenly and too late just how out of it he really was. He felt his eyes watering sickly, and blinked, wondering how long that had been going on..
He'd had visions of his preferred form taking him over the instant he crossed the city limits, of being saturated in magic thick enough to refresh him and keep him that way..But now, it was all he could do to keep a steady train of thought. He could feel something going on, though. A ways away, but he could feel it. A lot of it, power discharged and wafting through the air.. I want it.. He let out a long, shuddering breath as the blackness became less timid, threatened to overtake all that he could see. Why wasn't he changing? He should be changing here..It was supposed to work here..Maybe because he was so.. He shuddered violently, and he felt like he was crashing so fast.. ..I hope I'm not dying..
His fur prickled a little, at whatever was happening elsewhere in the city, and he let out a groaning mewl. His throat felt parched as he silently willed the happenings to keep on, to pick up. .Shake the city down..
It wasn't that he hadn't slept outside countless times before, and a fair amount on benches. It was that that was all he had been doing lately, for what felt like a very long time. He could usually, periodically find someone to take him home and coddle him for a while, make a house pet out of him for as long as it took him to recuperate. Or, even better, find someone that could wrap their mind around the concept that he enjoyed being treated like an intelligent person even more. It was also that, in addition to a ridiculous amount of time spent sleeping in what seemed to be increasingly awkward places, he'd spent just as much time on an involuntary hunger strike, barely getting enough into his stomach to keep himself going. When he started eating out of dumpsters, that meant he was really getting desperate. And that was where he had gotten his breakfast.
Coming to a dazed sort of halt in front of the bench, he crouched down and jerked forward in what could've been a leap, if he hadn't stopped himself at the last second. A step forward, a fidget back. Again, an aborted jump. A weary shudder ran down his body, nose to tail, and his ears twitched forlornly in the direction of his soon-to-be makeshift-bed. He was..So exhausted.. A third try and he managed to leave the ground in a sluggish sort of motion, getting half of his body atop the seat of the bench and dragging the second half after in a frantic scramble that left him sprawled out atop the wooden slats in a heap, more like a dead thing than a living cat. His collar jingled once, merrily, and he cringed. So much walking, lately, goaded on by the thought that maybe, he'd get to spend more time as a human around here..Nauseous from hunger, and his head felt airy..The jump left him dizzy.. ..I think..I'm sick.. he thought, in a vague sort of way, and maybe the dumpster-food earlier was what had made him ill.. The bench-seat beneath his gaze swam in and out of focus, black dancing shyly around his vision, and he was realizing suddenly and too late just how out of it he really was. He felt his eyes watering sickly, and blinked, wondering how long that had been going on..
He'd had visions of his preferred form taking him over the instant he crossed the city limits, of being saturated in magic thick enough to refresh him and keep him that way..But now, it was all he could do to keep a steady train of thought. He could feel something going on, though. A ways away, but he could feel it. A lot of it, power discharged and wafting through the air.. I want it.. He let out a long, shuddering breath as the blackness became less timid, threatened to overtake all that he could see. Why wasn't he changing? He should be changing here..It was supposed to work here..Maybe because he was so.. He shuddered violently, and he felt like he was crashing so fast.. ..I hope I'm not dying..
His fur prickled a little, at whatever was happening elsewhere in the city, and he let out a groaning mewl. His throat felt parched as he silently willed the happenings to keep on, to pick up. .Shake the city down..