“Well, that was quick.”
“…Oh, was it?” Micheala said softly, taking a spare moment to awkwardly shuffle her paws. “Well, I guess I just…”
The two stared at each other with a healthy blend of awkward silence and mutual confusion.
Stella arched an eyebrow. “…Okay, too much information, I don’t wanna know.” With a gentle snort, the Spaniel turned back around and Micheala’s pelt prickled with mild embarrassment. Sheesh, way to go, you dork.
As Stella turned back around – waving her tail like a steady flag, beckoning Micheala to follow in her eager steps – Micheala hesitantly prodded onwards, her ears twitching incessantly. When the churning in her stomach returned with a powerful, powerful vengeance, the tabby couldn’t help but sigh to herself.
Dear heavens, can you just leave me alone already? She bit her lip to spare some tension. I hate being nervous most of the time already, but now it’s multiplied by practically one hundred! For literally zero reason!
Micheala proceeded to shake her head in a generally violent manner. No, no, no, no. I am not going down that route and making myself look all – all stupid and stuff again, in front of Stella again. Urrrp.
Her paws trailed on forwards, the increase in speed leading her to almost collide head-on with Stella’s low laying, wagging golden tail. To cut through the anxious clatter in her brain, the tabby simply began to mumble to herself, humming tunes that sounded more kind and soothing than the sharp glass shrouding her tired brain. There was something… distracting about such an act, like fidgeting with a loose string of yarn or a stray leaf from the tallest tree.
Wait. In a quick moment of panic, the tabby glanced at the Spaniel in front of her. Either Stella hadn’t noticed her sing-song humming, or she’d decided to ignore it. Regardless, the prickled fur on Micheala’s scruff laid itself flat, calmed by her own piece of peace. Upon closer inspection, in fact, Stella was smiling!
She must just be so excited about meeting the new pup, huh? Micheala thought gently, her soft blue eyes focused in on the subtle curve of Stella’s joy. A small, happy trill worked its way through her throat, and the she-cat couldn’t help but smile to herself as well. Well… if Stella’s happy, then I’m happy!
With her joyous smile putting a spring in her step, Micheala hardly noticed as Stella turned her head, sporting a mildly confused gaze. “Why are you smiling so much, Mich?”
“Hrrm? Oh!” Micheala blinked a few times, her tail idly bouncing as she scraped her mind for a reason that wasn’t so blatantly cheesy. “Well – I’m just excited, hehe!” Really… I’m just so happy that she’s happy!
Stella’s eyes sparkled in response. “Oh, seriously? Me too!” With an excited bark, Stella flashed an encouraging, goofy smirk at the tabby, and Micheala couldn’t help but purr along blithely.
“We’re almost there, anyway!” the Spaniel noted, her brown eyes scanning the fields and fields of grass ahead of her.
But the closer they got – winding between long trees and the cracks between dusty roads – the more Micheala found herself feeling like this whole ordeal may had been a bad idea.
With a gulp, the short tabby inched closer to Stella, trying desperately to cling to the remaining sparks of joy inside her belly. “Stella… are you sure this is a good idea?” she said hesitantly, blinking back any second thoughts.
Predictably, Stella snorted. “Of course, Mich! Why would I ever put you or me in danger? That’s Catty’s job, not mine!” She gave a friendly wave of her tail as they neared the burgundy brick house, frayed with old red paint and overgrown ivy. “Seriously, Mich, you’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”
She’s right… she’s right. Stella’s always right, she’s smart and all like that, right? Micheala gave a small nod and forced her fur to lay flat, the anxiety in her paws bubbling like hot water about to boil. … Right. Right!
The tabby let her eyes graze on the tiny complex in front of them, taking in the tiny details like the abundance of trees and the greyed-out pathway. The red paint was chipping and hard, ugly in a beautiful way when the sun managed to reach it; but between the shade of the ominous trees, all seemed a bit darker, a bit more curdled in shadow.
“Welp, here goes nothing!” Stella barked cheerfully. “C’mon -- let’s go and meet a pup, Mich!”
“Oh! Oh wait okay one second—” With a large gulp, Micheala forced herself forwards, trying desperately to ignore the icky feeling in her stomach and to train her eyes on the grass beneath her wedge-like paws. Maybe…
Maybe … let’s say I’m on a mission. The pup inside there is in grave, grave danger, and they need me, and so I need to be brave…! I need to be brave to save this pup in this imaginary situation – I-I have to be brave and save the pup. The tabby felt a wash of odd relief come over herself, a layer painted over that of more anxious tendencies. I have to be brave to save them. I need to be a hero.
“C’mon, Mich!”
The tabby blinked rapidly, lifting her head in a slight panic. “I’m coming!”
Even if her stubby legs didn’t do her much justice, Micheala caught up to Stella with a fair amount of ease, finding immediately that the Spaniel wore a wide, shiteating grin. As they carefully stalked around the rear of the house, Stella’s tail began to steadily wag. “The weird owner’s not here!”
“Oh…! That’s great!” Micheala mewed, though the mention of the man made her stomach writhe uncomfortably. She frowned briefly before shaking her head and pushing closer to her braver best friend.
Remember? I’m on a mission. I have to – need to save this pup.
It wasn’t long – too fast, in fact, Micheala noted to nobody but herself – before the two had arrived at the front of the house, pawing carefully over bits of broken glass and sharp curves of pavement. Standing as if it’d blow over at the slightest touch of wind, the house – even in short stature – craned over Micheala, staring down at her with beady black boards. The tabby’s pelt prickled nervously, and she quickly averted her gaze elsewhere.
“So – should we just… call and see if the pup comes to the door?” Micheala said, flicking an ear thoughtfully. “If you wanted, I could try to climb in—”
“No no no, we can call from here, Mich!” Stella responded simply. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’m not gonna let you get yourself hurt.”
The tabby’s pelt flattened peacefully, despite any nags or urges she had to just jump in and, obviously, save the pup. With a soft smile, she neared the Spaniel and plopped her paws steadily into the muck – it seemed awful dirty out here, didn’t it? Well, if Stella was worried about Catty throwing us off track, she sure doesn’t have to worry now! Catty wouldn’t touch this place with a ten inch claw, haha!
“Come on out! We won’t hurt you, we want to meet you!!” Suddenly, Stella howled at such an audacity that Micheala nearly jumped out of her skin. “We’re your neighbors – um – Stella and Micheala!”
The tabby flicked her ears semi-nervously and then propped herself up, head held high. “We won’t hurt you! We’re friendly, promise!” She cheerfully chimed in.
The two both continued to clamber on in jolly yelling until Micheala suddenly perked her ears, standing a bit taller on her tippy toes. A faint shuffling from just behind the door came floating to her all at once, and a big, uncontrollable smile ravaged her face. “Stella!” she cried excitedly -- needless to say, Stella’s excitement was contagious.
“Shhhh! We don’t want to scare her off!” the she-dog yipped sharply.
Micheala, just a tad confused, knitted her eyebrows together. But… you were making more noise than me though, doof.
Oh well. Her whiskers twitched mischievously in the morning dawn. It’s kinda funny though, in a way, how Stella’s always critiquing Catty and stuff when she does, like… the exact same things she does. Nevertheless, the tabby let her jaws fall back shut and snuggled herself further into the grass, watching with urgent blue eyes as the door wiggled a bit. Back and forth it twitched – like a selective swing, tied back with chains – until it finally creaked open with an aching moan.
But I’m sure she has a good reason! … Stella always has good reasons.
And with that, a tiny, soft head popped from behind the door.
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