Completed Cat in the Streets (Arianthe Swansong)

[Wyatti]

9th of Winter 512
Midday(ish)

Wyatti was not sure for how long she had run. She could feel her body burning, loosing strength and energy to go on. The 'large' cat briefly stared behind, yellow eyes tracing the street. Dirt and blood covered her, a hollow look in her eyes. She continued to stare on before the sounds of shouting sounded out. She bolted, fear rising up from her stomach, terror pushing her on. She could not stop, she could not rest, not yet, not while they still chased her. The Kelvic dashed past people, darting in and out, weaving quickly between the legs of passers by. She had to move faster. Wyatti skidded around a corner, picking up pace, forcing the air into her lungs through the tight collar that hung around her neck. It was painful, she could hardly run any more, the lack of air setting her lungs on fire. The 'cat' looked about herself, staring up at the buildings, pacing in a circle. Her breathing began to grow longer, her pulse slowing. She took a moment to gain a sense of bearings.

The buildings here were tall, pale, and old looking. The scent of many people existed here, constantly coming and going. Her ears curled up from their pressed down state, listening carefully to the noises around her. For the moment it was calm, she could not hear the angry voices of men. Wyatti scratched at her neck, and felt the cold iron collar that her 'master' had put around her. No matter how much she tried, it would not budge, and so day by day grew tighter around her throat. Even she could barely breath, it was little more than a hiss of air. She padded forward, heavy paws, heavy breathing.

You stupid animal! Useless! I am going to ki-

The Kelvic bolted when something clattered behind her. She felt her heart go again, her mind screaming. She could not stop. She had to go faster.
She leapt over a collection of crates, and caught her self on the way down, landing heavily on a leap on the floor.

Wyatti did not move, instead she simply laid there, motionless with no will power to go on. So what if her 'master' found her, so what if he turned her into a rug? At least she got to see the outside world at least once. Weary eyed the Kelvic stared out to the street that opened before her, watching the people pass by without a care. She could feel a bitter taste forming in her mouth, her throat constricting. But, she could still not bring herself to move from the glow of the winter midday sun, the crisp blue winter sky. Wyatti closed her eyes.

I got out mother. I saw the sky. You were right, it is beautiful.

[Arianthe Swansong]

Arianthe had emerged from the Perfume Shop at about Midday and, knowing that there was no rush to return to her university lodgings for it would still be a few hours before the sun set, she had taken a leisurely stroll down the street to look at the other shops in the area. Although it was now winter, the day had been unusually mild and she was really rather comfortable in a velvet skirt, blouse and heavy cloak. She looked around about her with interest. She recalled a poem she had thought up earlier that morning on the way to the shop.

"The Hustle and Bustle of the city crowd
Is the cornucopia of the Zeltivan pride
And though it's dirty and though it's loud
It's reforming nature crossed the great divide."

She smiled at the silliness of the verse and paused for a moment. It was only as she was tying the ribbons of her cloak tighter that she noted a strange figure in her peripheral vision.
Turning around, bending to her curiosity, she realised that she was looking at an animal of some sort, though the crates fallen around it made it difficult to tell what kind. Of course it could be dangerous, but everyone else was ignoring it, and she sensed instinctively that it was in a poor state, obviously badly in need of some aid.
Therefore throwing all caution to the wind, she drew nearer.

[Wyatti]

Was it the scent of perfume or was it the sounds of footsteps growing closer that made Wyatti stir?

She could not tell, but both disturbed her. For a moment she remained near still, barely breathing, listening intently to the sound that closed in. An eye opened to look about, gliding from side to side until it locked onto what was coming closer. A woman, or more importantly a human was closing in. Wyatti let out a low moan, almost as if a warning to the human. She could feel a sense of dread rising up again, and the want of flight calling to her. But the human came closer.

Placing a firm paw before her, Wyatti tried to push herself up, her eyes now open and staring at the being. It was clear there was fear in her eyes, an urgency on how she tried to move. The low moan became louder; but it was an empty threat, the Kelvic could not bring herself to move, or moreover it was impossible for her to move with ease. The tumble had made her ache, not as much as her 'master' use to but enough the less. Her pupils widened as Wyatti shrunk into herself, but the low frightened moan continued, stating one thing only; I am scared.

[Arianthe Swansong]

Parting a last crate before her, Arianthe found herself looking at a clouded leopard. It then struck her that she had absolutely no idea what she had intended to do once she discovered the animal. Maybe she had thought it would be simple, that the animal would be in a state enough to help it without too much difficulty. It was only when she actually saw it that she realised that she had rather rushed into the thing.
It was covered in blood and grime and the sight of it actually made Arianthe very angry, though she was no great animal lover (that is not to say she didn't like them) something which she tried to hide in case the animal believed she was angry with it rather than with the people who had done this. She wondered if it was another escapee from the Fur Market and, if this was the case, the Market was certainly not going up high in her esteem.
After a moment, Arianthe kneeled down next to it. A move which, if the animal had been slightly less damaged, Arianthe would have found very foolish and potentially dangerous.

"Ssshhh..." she said finally, though not touching it, trying not to scare it, "Sssh. I am going to try and help you."
Of course it would not be much use telling the animal that. It probably could not understand.

[Wyatti]

Wyatti stared, and curled up into herself. At first she began to hiss, but that quickly turned back into moaning. Even as she continued to stare at the human knelt down her moaning had finally fallen silent, but she shook. She was still scared, even when the human spoke. She kept on trying to move further away, but instead found herself trapped between the crates and the human. She could almost feel the woman's rage building up inside, and that scared her more, but it was not directed at the Kelvic. No it was directed at another. Wyatti's ears pressed against her skull, and in a final and child-like attempt to hide, she placed her paw across her snout and eyes.

So far, the human was not like the others, but perhaps it was a trick; Wyatti could not tell. She wanted to run, but she no longer had the strength to, or more over damage had finally taken its toll. This time, there was no escape.

Maybe it is a nice human. Nice human? Stupid! He was never nice to you, so why should she be different? Stupid animal! Stupid!

The young clouded leopard slunk to the ground, tail wrapped close to her, waiting for the human to make another move.

[Arianthe Swansong]

For a couple of minutes, Arianthe neither said nor did anything, trying to reassure the leopard that she would not attempt to hurt it and letting it grow more accustomed to her presence. In these minutes, she had also attempted to locate all the issues with the animal. Firstly, there were the visible wounds but, more worryingly, there was the large metal collar around it's neck. It looked too heavy, too tight and was probably causing the animal some anguish. And such a beautiful animal it should have been too...
She wouldn't leave it. In it's state, it was rather harmless. She was now preoccupied with thinking of a way to remove the collar. It looked like it was made of iron and she imagined that, although it would be easy for a blacksmith of some sort, there was no possibility of trying to force it then and there.
Unless... she recalled when she was a little girl, about seven, her elder brother Dorian had shown her how to pick locks with little sharp objects. She had not felt the need at the time to ask how he had acquired the skill, but she had kept in practise - once using a pin to open a jewellery box to which she had mislaid the key and another time to unlock a door to a room which her husband had locked her in to punish her.
She scrambled a hand to find a hairpin and pulled one out quickly. All she had to do was keep the animal calm while she unpicked the lock to the collar since it would obviously take her a few goes.

[Wyatti]

For the few moments of silence and calm, Wyatti did not move. She could feel the gaze of the woman trace her form, looking and analysing every part of her. Cautciously, the Kelvic lowered her paw to look at the woman properly. She was was clean, pristine, an element of gentleness about her, her gaze turning from harsh to thoughtful and worrying. Wyatti's eyes sharpened as the woman stared at the collar, and for a moment she hesitated. What did the woman want? What did she think? What was she going to do?

Thoughts swam through her mind, but the she saw the woman move sharply, and the brief calmness had vanished. Wyatti hissed. It was brief, but it was a warning none the less, even if it was a feeble one at that. Her fur raised, her ears pricked up, and she began feeling her fangs bare. But little Wyatti was too scared to attack; to scared of the pain she would receive back. Last time she struck out, mother was taken away, and the next time she saw her-

She caught a flicker of light in the woman's hand, and her eyes darted to it, focusing on its shape and form. A hair pin. She had seen them before, she use to chase them about the room and collect them for the wife of the 'Master'.

But why has pulled them out?

[Arianthe Swansong]

As the leopard hissed, Arianthe bit her lip and silently cursed herself for doing such a sudden movement. She really should have paid more attention to what she was doing and remembered that this looked like a severely abused animal. Rash movements like that and it would naturally expect to be hit. Arianthe remembered having similar feelings in the past whenever somebody would raise an arm near her. But that was in the past - to some extent, she did not even flicker an eyelash anymore. To some extent.

"Don't worry." She repeated this and it was as much reassuring herself as the creature. Reassuring herself that the animal would not lash out at her while she was trying to help it.

It was, therefore, with a heavy beating heart that her hand approached the lock. She decided against stroking the animal to reassure it in case it had non-visible wounds underneath the fur that might hurt if they came into contact with something like a caress.

"I'm trying to help you." Of course, it couldn't understand, but Arianthe was hoping that her voice sounded quite soothing - she had always been told that she has a lovely, very musical voice.

Finally, she stuck the hairpin into the lock and started moving it around slightly. She was listening for the click and waiting for the hairpin to slot into some sort of place. It took a few minutes, during which time she could feel the leopard's fear and uncertainty, but finally she felt the satisfying click of the collar lock coming undone.

[Wyatti]

Wyatti did not move a muscle. She did not blink. She did not twitch. But she did stare, watching the woman's face as it focused solely on the collar. She could smell the woman, see the brief look of... perhaps guilt? Wyatti was not too sure. She could hear the woman's words, her calm soothing words. They were soft, gentle, appealing, no venom or ill intent behind them. But there was fear, a tremble, a worry. In return Wyatti worried.

What is she doing? Why does the human bring her hand close? Why does she worry?

She felt the woman's hands slip to the iron collar, stroking against the metal, feeling it. What ever the woman was doing Wyatti could not tell, it was at the awkward angle of sight. It was as she heard the sounds of clicking, of the turning of metal, of catches being lifted and played with, that Wyatti realised the woman's true intentions. She resisted trembling, and kept a careful, wary eye on the woman at all times, until finally a loud resounding click was heard. The collar slid off, crashing to the ground, freeing Wyatti.

Air rushed into her, the ability to breath unrestricted overwhelming her. She laid herself on her side, feeling giddy as the fresh air filled her lungs. She could still feel the hold of the collar, but that too was fading. She was free, able to breath, unrestricted by iron. But most importantly free to return to that of a human form.

For a moment, the Leopard was still, unmoving, drawing on her last reserves of energy and strength. She did not care about the state she would be in, of the lacking clothing, the 'inconvenience' she and all other Kelvic went through when they changed shape. She needed to speak, she needed to feel to touch, to remind herself of the other side. It had been too long. To the woman, the transformation would of looked to that of magic, a swirling light dissolving her leopard form, and in the same instance a human growing out of the light. The light faded, and Wyatti laid curled facing the wall.

She let out a gasp, a cry for air, but also to the sudden cold that touched her skin. She cold winter air bit at her form, but she did not mind. Wounds were clearer now, bruises and cuts covering her back and most of her torso, her ankle having swollen up from the fall earlier, but most noticeably the dark pink scar that ran the base of her neck, the sign of her collar. She shivered, and found herself clenching up, her lips trembling as she remembered words.

"Th-thank you," she managed to breath before relief consumed her.

[Arianthe Swansong]

Arianthe's eyes widened slightly as the leopard turned into a girl. She had been far from expecting the animal to be a Kelvic, though she really should have suppose it - after all, what else would a snow leopard be doing in Zeltiva? Arianthe had thought it an expensive pet.
Now that it was in it's human form, cuts and bruises and everything were all the more visible, and Arianthe was feeling positively venomous. She supposed it was double standards, but to her, the abuse was a lot worse and a lot more distressing now that she realised that the animal had a human form too.

The girl was shivering, and Arianthe immediately took off her heavy cloak, draping it around the girl. It was chilly, but she could try and ignore this.

"Th-thank you."

"It's nothing. I'm really glad I could help you. My name is Arianthe Swansong."

She was now asking herself what to do with the girl. She could not abandon her here, naked and injured as she was... How old was she? Could she take her to the orphanage? Did the orphanage accept Kelvics? Should she try and 'keep' her for the moment, so to speak? Arianthe really did not know the protocol for this sort of situation, but it was clear to her that first and foremost, she had to find someone who could do something about the wounds, and of course there was probably heavy emotional and mental scarring on top of the physically obvious issues.