To Love a Stray Ch. 03

I reach the trees ahead of my pursuers and slow slightly to manoeuvre through the thick growth. I dodge trees and bushes and jump low shrubs. Steadily I begin to slow, my rage and pain expelled through the hard run but still I keep moving. The sound of my pursuit falls further and further behind until I can barely hear it and I slow to a walk. I concentrate on my breathing as I work on getting my breath back. I have learnt that the secret to escaping pursuers often lies in being able to keep running long after they can. I alternate between walking and jogging enabling me to cover quite a distance before I slowed and stopped.

Where was I going? More importantly where was I so that I would know which way to head?

I look around the trees and bushes before looking up at the sky. I note where the sun is and which way the shadows lay before I walk to a fallen log and sit down. It's nearing midday, which means my flight lasted most of the morning so it is no wonder I am tired. But deep inside me I know that my bone deep tiredness is more than the strenuous run. It is a body not recovered from the last ordeal coupled with the demands of a pregnancy.

I lift my head as I catch intermittent sounds in the distant and get to my feet reluctantly. I take my time as I move away from the fallen log taking as long steps as able. A quarter of an hour or more later I find a tree I like and begin to climb it moving up into the branches until I come to the secure looking 'V' where the trunk splits in two. I settle into this spot and give a sigh of relief. I know I will be able to nap here while I make up my mind as to where I go from here. I doze on and off through the afternoon. Hunger wakes me intermittently and as it is not the first time I have skipped a meal; hunger is no stranger. It is dusk when I finally decide to come down from my perch. I have heard several lots of people walk through the area searching for me but now the forest is quiet except for the night creatures that are beginning to stir.

I begin to retrace my steps from earlier. It's slow going as I have to stop and sniff for my own scent every now and then when I lose it. Cats don't track with their noses the way some dogs do, hounds for instance. We hunt and track by sight but I had a human father who loved to photograph wildlife and as a child he often took me along on his jaunts. I hear the soft babble of a stream and detour for a drink. It is while I am wiping my damp mouth with the back of my hand that my ears catch faint sounds in the absence of the previous night noises. I am in the low branches of a tree before I have time to think and I stretch out along a sturdy branch as I wait and watch.

Soon I am able to make out a voice and frown angrily as I recognise Edwin's rough tone. I bare my teeth silently as I position myself for a better view.

"We're wasting time we should head back," Edwin states firmly.

"What if she got thirsty? The best tasting stream water is just up here," I am surprised when I hear Donovan's voice.

"She wouldn't know that," Edwin says flatly.

"Rosy has probably run miles by now. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if she is still running, she is a stray after all." I recognise Alex's voice.

"I hope not. She's not well enough to try to get back to where she came from on her own." I nearly shout for joy as I hear Sam's voice. They walk directly beneath my branch as they walk to the stream edge and I narrow my eyes as I watch them.

"Rosy's not here," I hear the disappointment in Donovan's voice as he looks around.

I watch as they take turns scooping handfuls of sweet water from the stream before they move around the tiny clearing for a few minutes. As I watch Donovan throw a pebble into the brush disheartened I realise what it is about him that has me watching him closely. He is still little more than a kid and I am very curious about werecat children.

"What are you doing?" Edwin demands in annoyed curiosity. I look at Donovan and see he has put an orange, some muesli bars and a chocolate bar in a small pile beside a bush.

"If Rosy comes here she'll be hungry. I just want her to know someone cares if she is hungry," Donovan says, "I wouldn't want her to think we don't care just because she ran away from us."

"She didn't run away from us kiddo, she ran away from herself," Sam tells Donovan gently and I realise with shock what he said is true.

"How can she run away from herself?" Donovan asks confused.

"She can't." Edwin says as he walks over to give his young brother a comforting hug. "Rosy is a stray and when they start to change most find it very hard to come to terms with their new identity. Most don't and they either die or become a problem we have to take care of. A few manage to adjust. Female strays are generally killed by stray toms or driven insane by the toms using them as sex toys."

"Rosy is trying to run away from being a werecat?" Donovan asks as if for confirmation.

"Come on, we'd better get back before Micah and Dad send out a search party," Alex says.

"You think Rosy wants to attack me don't you," Donovan states.

"If she does she probably can't help it. You're smaller than her, weaker, perfect prey choice if she feels scared and cornered." Sam tells him gently.

"Oh," Donovan mutters. I watch as they head back the way they've come, now I will have an easy trail to follow but I remain in my tree as I think on what I over heard.

When I finally give in to the temptation of the small food pile I slip down from the tree and grab a muesli bar and tear the wrapper open. It's the kind that is packed full of nuts and dried fruit and I moan with enjoyment as I eat it, my mouth watering hungrily. I devour the three muesli bars and the orange before stopping for a drink of water. I take my time eating the chocolate before heading along the trail the others left behind. I travel slowly weighted down with fatigue and worry about the reception I will get.

The position of the stars tells me it is into the early hours of the morning when I reach the edge of the clearing where the houses are. I hesitate as I toss up which building I will go to but end up deciding on the quarters. The main house has probably been locked up in protection of Donovan and Justin. I sneak through the door I have used several times and make my way to the lounge room. It is empty and in semi darkness with only faint light coming from the DVD player. I stretch out on the lounge snuggling up against a jacket that smells faintly of Sam. I yawn silently and close my eyes. I'm not even on the lounge for two minutes when I hear the slightest sound of movement.

"I tell you I heard someone moving around," I smile as I recognise the petulant voice.

"Look Donny, I have to get up in a few hours, you start waking me up every time you think you hear something and I'm taking you over to the main house," Micah warns sternly.

"Are you going to go looking for Rosy?" Donovan asks excitedly.

"No, chasing after Rosy will only scare her. I'll let Pete know she's probably heading back home, but that's it," Micah tells him firmly. Donovan makes an unhappy sound in his throat as if he's about to cry and I pull the jacket over my head.

"Rosy is probably trying to get some sleep like any sane being!" I snap.

"Rosy! You came back!" Donovan yells excitedly and I hear him rush to the lounge. He touches me lightly, his hands patting my covered head and then my shoulders as if reassuring himself I am there. I lay motionless as he strokes my side from my shoulder down over my ribs to the curve of my hip before repeating the motion several times.

I uncover my head and glance at him before closing my eyes once again. I can hear more movement and flinch when I hear doors open and footsteps hurry our way. Donovan stops touching me and I open my eyes, Micah is standing between us and I realise he is ready to protect Donovan if necessary.

"Did I hear Donny right?" Mitchell demands, as he hurries into the room.

"The stray came back?" Edwin is right on Mitchell's heels and I try to burrow deeper into the lounge at the sound of his voice.

"I'll take Rosy into our room for the night," Mitchell says and I turn to him as he lifts me in his arms. I bury my face against his chest as he carries me a short distance and goes through a door. I can smell Sam nearby as I am put on a bed gently and covered with a blanket.

"She okay?" Sam asks quietly.

"Tired," I answer softly.

"I'm real glad you came back," Sam tells me gently. I make a sound of disbelief in my throat that belies the warm feeling that is growing inside me at his words. I feel the mattress dip and then Mitchell is settling himself on top of the covers and against my back, I give a tired sigh and slip into the welcome depths of sleep. It is not long after dawn according to the light filtering through the window when I open my eyes. Something has woken me but I'm not sure what.

"What do you think you're doing in there? Edwin, Micah or Mitchell will have your hide!" Alex hisses at a nearly inaudible level.

"I'm waiting for her to wake up!" Donovan whispers back.

"Out now!" Alex orders and I groan as I lift my head to turn it towards them and look at them through bleary eyes. Alex glances at me and moves forward to pull his younger brother off the other bed.

"But Rosy is awake," Donovan protests just above a whisper.

"That doesn't mean she wants to be," Alex scolds his brother as he drags him out the door. I can hear them arguing as they go to the other end of the house. I press my forehead against the pillow in annoyance as my body begins to wake up. My bladder tells me I need to get up and I throw the covers off in annoyance. My body is still mostly asleep as I stumble along the hallway to the toilet and attend to my needs. When I come out of the bathroom my stomach grumbles and I follow the smell of cooking food as I rub at my eyes sleepily. I halt in the kitchen doorway as I take in all the toms scattered around the room unaware of me as they eat. Donovan waves at me happily from the table and goes to get to his feet but Edwin pushes him back into his chair easily.

"Eat," he orders his little brother.

"I was going to get Rosy some food!" Donovan protests. Heads swivel in my direction and I shuffle uneasily as they look at me. Mitchell grins and pulls a plastic plate from a cupboard and begins to dish up grilled sausages and fried eggs.

"You'd better come in and eat before we eat all the food," Dwayne tells me with a grin.

"You must be starving. You missed two meals yesterday." Mitchell says as I slink over to take the plate from him. I nod silently and take the fork Sam passes me. I stab a sausage and lift it to my lips without bothering to cut it up. I bite into the sausage and feel the fat dribble down over my chin. I pull the sausage away leaving a chunk between my teeth and use the back of my other hand to wipe the worst of the grease from my chin.

"Mum would kill any of us that ate like that!" Donovan says in wide-eyed admiration. "Does your Mum let you do that?"

I shake my head negatively as I chew the food in my mouth before swallowing it, "My mum was killed by a hit and run driver when I was about a week old," I tell him.

"Oh I'm sorry," Donovan says and his tone tells me he can't imagine a world without his mother in it. "Who looked after you?"

"Harry, my dad," I answer between mouthfuls of egg.

"Will he wonder where you are now?" Donovan asks.

"He was killed in a car crash a while back," I feel sad at the memory and pause in my eating for a few moments.

"You got any older brothers?" Donovan asks.

"Nope, just me," I answer before attacking another sausage.

"I got five older brothers and an older sister but Jasmine is away at Uncle Stephan's and Aunty Abigail's at the moment becau..." His voice trails off uncomfortably and I glanced at him from beneath my lashes.

"Jasmine is on holidays," Edwin supplies.

"You go out to nightclubs much before you became a stray? I hear human girls love to party," Donovan asks and I hear a hastily smothered snicker.

I raise my head and look at Donovan who is watching me with interest.

"No nightclubs close to where I live," I tell him.

"Do you like hunting? I love to hunt. Next time we go hunting I get to go in for the kill if we go after goats." Donovan says proudly. I glance up at him from my plate but don't speak as I chew a piece of sausage slowly.

"Fishing's good too. It's a bit hard if you haven't done it much though," Donovan offers.

"I don't think Rosy has had the chance to try hunting," Sam tells Donovan.

"Did you live in a city or something?" Donovan asks eagerly.

"No, I moved in next door to Pete three years ago. Before that I spent a lot of time at my uncle's place a few kilometres away." I say.

"Oh. If you had been a werecat Pete would have taken you hunting," Donovan tells me sounding slightly let down.

"Does shopping in the supermarket for the ingredients to make cookies count?" I ask.

"You can make cookies! Cool! What kind? Chocolate chip?" He asks hopefully.

"Caramel," I say and at the look in his eyes quickly add, "but only when I really really feel like it. Like on rainy days."

"Oh. So that wouldn't be much," Donovan says sounding disappointed. I shake my head and reach for the last sausage on my plate and stab it with my fork. Donovan whines and I glance at him startled.

"That's the last one and I was hoping I could have it cause I'm still hungry," he says giving me a winning smile. But his smile dies on his lips and he glances at Edwin and Micah with a fearful look. I realise I am glaring at him, sparks nearly flying from my eyes as I pull my food closer. My inner cat is screeching in fury. I've never shared my food with anyone! My instinct is to tear into my food and bolt it down. Donovan moves uneasily under my glare. I tense and slowly lift my hand to drop the sausage and fork on his plate. I am startled by an almost purring sound and I glance towards Mitchell. He leans close pushing his shoulder against me and putting his forehead against mine.

"Eat it Donny, Rosy gave it to you and strays don't like to share their food." Edwin tells his brother very softly. I can hear Donovan eating but don't look his way not wanting to anger my inner cat.

"Who's for coffee?" Steven asks and I can hear the strain in his voice.

"I'm going back to bed to sleep," I say and get to my feet. I turn away from the table without looking at anyone.

I burrow under all the covers on Mitchell's bed burying myself in sheets that smell like both him and I. I have trained myself to sleep when I have the chance so I have little trouble drifting off to sleep quickly.

* * * * *

"Well your shoulder is nearly healed. And there's no pain when you run as a cat?" Doc asks.

"It hurts but it's like it's badly bruised and nowhere near as bad as it used to hurt," I tell him.

"How are you feeling other wise?" Doc asks quietly.

"Still the same," I say knowing he means in regards to my pregnancy.

"I hear you've been sleeping a lot. That's good it'll give your body a chance to heal plus the first trimester is very tiring," He tells me. "After the first trimester you'll begin to find it harder to shift and by about the fifth month most mothers-to-be stop shifting,"

"What, stop shifting for good? Does all the other stuff stop as well?" I ask hopefully.

"No once the baby is delivered there are no problems shifting. The changing process can't be reversed," Doc tells me almost apologetically. I don't doubt he has been told about my outburst the previous day, my feelings on what has happened to me.

"If you'll listen the others can teach you how to cope, how to survive being a werecat. Being a mother will come naturally after the baby." Doc tells me gently.

"Survive? What makes you think I consider there will even be a before for there to be an afterwards? I'm not having this baby! There's no way I can look after it when I hunt and what if some stray tom finds us? I can't protect myself let alone a baby!" I growl angrily as I get to my feet. I stalk to the door and push it open. I pause in the doorway for a moment, "Did they tell you I was ready to tear Donovan apart this morning? Over a damned sausage! The kid joked about wanting it and I saw red! I was going to hurt him! Vets put down animals that are vicious! Someone should put me down!"

I stride down the hallway and head for the door needing to get outside - out of the close confines of the house. I don't know want to be around anyone at the moment as I find it hard enough with just myself when I loathe myself.

"Rosy! Shit! Where the hell is everyone! Someone get here now!" Doc yells from the doorway. I glance back uneasily and see he is pulling his shirt off and in that instant I realise he is about to shift and chase me. Fear hits me and I take off running towards the trees. If I can make the tree line before him then maybe I stand a chance of getting somewhere he can't get to me.

"I need some help here!" Doc yells behind me. "Stop her! For goodness sake stop her! She's going to harm herself!"

His yells tell me others are on their way and I wish desperately for my four legs. I wish for the speed and safety they can give me. I think how much I need them and I feel my shift roar through me with savage intensity. I scream in pain as my body feels like it is blown apart and then my front paws hit the ground and I am running effortlessly.

Time can lose all meaning when you're being chased so that it becomes no more than a measure of how far the body can be pushed. The amount of time you can run at full speed before you need to slow down or stop and get your breath and strength back, how long the body can go before you need to hunt. Human habitations to be skirted in the dark, places to slink in the shadows to find out where in the country you are. I begin sleeping in hidden places during the day while in human form and running through the shadows of a night, hunting as the chances present themselves. It takes me close to a month before I weave my way through different districts to make my way back to my home territory.

I am tired but strong and healthy when I sneak close to my house. Lights are on and I can hear the sounds of people inside as I hide in the shadows watching. I am disheartened as I turn away. My refugee is gone and I am adrift in a world I no longer fit into. The yearning for the familiar sends me moving towards my uncle's business premises and it is the early hours of the morning when I shift to human form and use the hidden key I know of to sneak inside. I move around in the dark well used to the layout of the place. I use a small torch that is stored by the door to read the labels on the bottles in the locked storage I have unlocked. I sneak into the office and turn on the computer waiting nervously for it to load. A quick search through supply files gives me the information I want and I shut down the computer before returning to the surgery room and packing two bottles of medication into a linen bag along with several syringes.

I search the office cupboard and find an old change of clothing I have left here at some stage in the past. I pull the clothes on and inhale the once familiar smell of my body wash and skin lotion. The jeans refuse to be zipped up and I frown at my belly, could my time on four paws have affected the gestational time? I search through a cupboard until I find the machine we used to ultra sound animal patients and wonder if it will work for me. I wait impatiently for the machine to warm up and once it is working I squirt gel onto the probe before holding it to the skin low on my stomach. I move it around slightly and bite my lip as a small spot on the screen shows a beat, tears fill my eyes and as my hand trembles I accidentally move the probe. The small spot disappears off the screen and I move the probe around desperate for one final look, one last memory.