snowdrops

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sharkbait
Missing
Dec 21, 2019 22:41:29 GMT
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[attr="class","bandittttttt3"]SHARKBAIT
[attr="class","bandittttttt2"] Staring out into the garden from the warm house, Sharkbait found his green gaze locked on the soft little patch of green and white that poked through the snow. It was the only sign of life in the garden - no rabbits or squirrels were there for him to practice hunting today. The little flowers bowed in the breeze, twitching as the snow outside began to pick up, filling in the pawprints of his earlier escapade and making him realize how happy he was to be inside where the crackle of the fire softly filled the air. The little woman who had taken him in years ago was softly humming in the kitchen and the smell of something sweet - almost sickeningly sweet - drifted into the room. It made his stomach lurch as it always did, signalling that it was time to go outside before he got sick from the smell.

The idea of leaving the warmth left a scowl on the gray and white tom’s face, but he leapt from the window sill and padded into the kitchen, rubbing between his human’s legs. His meows were graveling and deep as he gathered her attention and then padded toward the door, scratching it impatiently with his front paw. The elderly woman chuckled and opened the door for him. Sharkbait shivered at the cold air as it entered the warm den and cast one glance upward at the woman before padding out into the garden. His paws quickly dampened as he made his way toward the small white flowers that were being hidden in the falling snow.

The flurries stuck to his long pelt and whiskers, but he thoughtfully looked down at the short plants before beginning to dust away the newly fallen snow. Snowdrops, he had learned they were called. They were one of the few plants that could withstand the cold and still blossom and grow in the dead of winter. He didn’t understand how since most others died, but he was appreciative of them and the sweet smell they gave off though he was careful not to eat them as he didn’t much care for plants. Once he’d finished carefully sweeping the snow away, the tom waddled toward the edge of the fence and pushed through the hole he’d dug out. His massive size and fat belly made it hard to jump over the fence, so he’d improvised moons ago. The world outside was whitewashed and the sky dreary and gray, there were no signs of life either. Sharkbait wondered what he might do today.
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PEBBLES
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