Sharon & April | Colony Check-up
Nov. 4th, 2023 02:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsSharon and April work with one of the local animal rescues to check in on one of the District X cat colonies after the flood.
CW: Non-graphic animal death as a result of the flooding/cold.
"Okay, we've got a list of known traps in the area, and—" April broke off. "I know it might feel weird, but are you sure you don't want me to web your hind legs and feet a little? It's super gross out here." Her shifting was coming in useful for once, looking very much like the gloves and wading boots other people working on flood response were wearing. "Mostly I worry about you getting a cut that gets infected, but it probably doesn't feel as bad as weird stuff smeared into your fur, either."
"Very kind to offer. Am durable, however. Require claws for climbing also." From her perch on the dumpster Sharon lifted her nose to scent the air, but her efforts were rewarded only with a sneeze. "Air smells too much of sewage," she said, anxious. "Cannot smell them. But abandoned lot is closest site. Live traps are there. We shall check."
Without waiting for April's response, the purple cat leapt from the dumpster and bounded off.
Sharon knew the area better than she did, and this wasn't really rooftop work. She set off after the other woman, keeping a few paces behind her steady bounding. Covering Sharon's claws hadn't crossed her mind, but she understood the concern.
It was the work of seconds to enter the abandoned lot, and April followed in the cat's footsteps as they came to an empty first trap. "Okay, really hope our good luck sticks around for this," she said, gesturing to the trap. "I'd hate to know any of them had been trapped during the flood."
Sharon was already darting to inspect the next trap, heedless of the mud and slimy debris that littered the lot. "Was colony here," she said distractedly. "Three generations, maybe. Was not family, but queens allowed me to shelter with them -- ah!" The cat had lifted the blanket from one of the traps and was clearly excited by what it held. She sat on her haunches and waved April over, tail lashing.
"Thirteen weeks, or fourteen, maybe," Sharon explained as she moved the cloth aside so April could see a small, muddy grey cat cowering in the trap. "The elders are clever, but this one is too young to recognize trap still."
"Awww, baby." April was more of a dog person, but she had the same weakness for small, cute things that many others had. "Should we keep them in the trap for transport, or... I could make web pouches for any smaller cats? Just stick them to my body like extra pockets. Of cats." The idea was appealing, and scratches would heal.
"Yes. Pouches, yes. He is surely cold." Sharon opened the trap. The kitten hissed and cowered, but Sharon was patient. It was still young, and the abundance of restaurants in its territory meant it was already somewhat habituated to humans. Now that it was reaching sexual maturity its time in the colony was likely nearing an end. Gradually, the kitten calmed enough to take a few tentative steps toward the trap opening, and now when Sharon moved to pick it up it did not move away.
"X-Man rescuing kittens," Sharon mused as she turned to April, cat cradled to her chest. "Is not a waste of your skills?"
"I don't think so. Their lives are important too, and I think the strong types kinda got shuffled around to help out a little everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if I get asked to pick up heavy food bags or buckets of clean water later." April shrugged, reaching out for the kitten. "I've already been out a little helping. Holding things up, lifting and carrying. This is just part of it."
Sharon handed over the kitten with some reluctance. It was probably a bad idea to lick it clean, no matter how great the urge. "It is appreciated," she said. "Animals are always forgotten. Worry still about my brother. Was taken when apartment was cleared out, but when I acquired device again I could not find him on rescue sites. Like to think he was adopted."
"Was he... like you, or just a regular cat?" A tendril wrapped securely around the kitten, the tip scritching it slowly behind the ear. "Please don't poop on me in fright or anger, kitten," April said to it as she carefully aimed her webbing at his back. When she was done, the bedraggled fuzzball looked part mummified, with just enough space for his tail and face to show. "Is the whole "cats can't get through things their shoulders can't get through" thing true? If so, I think he's secure."
Sharon gave the wrapping a quick inspection. "Is secure. And no, Klaus was normal cat. My mother had cats always, even before me. Eldest brother was Franz, he was tortoise-shell. Male, very rare. Was not so playful, but patient. Cole lived very long. Twenty-four. Died last year." The cat began to check on the other cages, pulling aside the blankets with care. "Klaus was young still. Five, six. Would almost speak words to demand food. Mother thought I was to blame, but really he only learned what sounds pleased her. Was taken when landlord came to clean out apartment."
"Well. I hope he got adopted by people that love and spoil him. Cats are very clever, so hopefully if he did have to hide he still managed to find a good place to land." The kitten gave a plaintive meow that April decided was agreement, but was more likely indignation at the way it was being carted around. She was careful of the small body as she maneuvered around a dumpster, pulling it slightly from the wall. A few rats went scurrying. "Aw man, I hope I didn't just ruin someone's chances at a juicy dinner."
"Is better if you did. More attracted to traps then, maybe -- oh, I have found sibling." Sharon reached into a muddy stack of boxes and extracted another cat. It appeared to be the same age as the first, but with a few patches of white and a significant eye-infection. It mewed plaintively.
"Think these are all that remain," Sharon said fretfully. "This one was too ill."
"Aww baby. I bet they've been cold too, but hiding in the boxes feels pretty smart. Here, let me get this one webbed up too, and then we can move to the next area?" April thought about it for a minute, and then quietly asked, "Are the ones that didn't make it there, too? There's some grass nearby, we could bury them."
The cat hesitated, then shook her head. "No. Is waste of time. But I shall wrap and dispose of bodies so they do not spread disease. You will take this one, please." Sharon handed the kitten over to the older girl. Searching briefly, she managed to locate two plastic grocery bags that seemed mostly intact. She disappeared behind the rotting boxes, her tail slung low as she groped about the depths. "This is the life of ferals," Sharon explained. "Many die. Is only nature." After a moment she withdrew again, one bag wrapped within another, each one knotted closed. She gave April a nod. "We will worry for the living."
It was practical. April wrapped a cocoon around this small body too, then rubbed her fingers behind a tiny ear. "You said this colony had queens, but we haven't seen them yet. Where do you think they might've hidden?"
"Unsure. Flood has changed terrain, and they are cautious. Probably fled when traps were set. Will return when things have settled, maybe." There was an old metal trash barrel in the lot. Without apparent emotion Sharon deposited the sad parcel, although her tail was uncharacteristically limp.
"I smell no others," she said. "But two small ones are in need of veterinary attention. There is a place we may take them?"
One of April's tendrils unfurled, briefly rubbing along Sharon's ears before retreating. "We could probably get at least some towels and a few days of food from the rescue groups that set up by the community center. Maybe even a quick checkup. I'm... there's just the two of them. Maybe we could just take them back to the mansion. Get them chipped and fixed once they're a little older, let them have the run of the grounds. I've got space and money to feed them, if nothing else, but there's also the barn cats to help raise them."
Something about the colony was twigging at the back of her mind. "Hey Sharon? How did you live with the colony, big as you are? Or can you shift smaller sometimes?"
"Yes. I am thing between human and cat, and I may shift across this spectrum. Was one of my original forms. Imprinted upon Klaus and Cole, maybe, just as I did upon my mother. Unsure what becomes of excess mass, or by what mechanism it is retrieved or added, but certain physical reserves are required. Was small when I left home because housecat attracts less attention, requires less food. But consumes less food, also, and so reserves are more difficult to replenish. Small form cannot speak, also." Sharon walked up to April and briefly touched her nose to the other woman's hand in acknowledgement, then repeated the action with one of the swaddled kittens. "When I judged it time to introduce myself I gorged for days so that I could change. Very difficult. Could not shift again for months. Even now I must be conservative."
"That makes sense, scientifically. Except for where your mass goes, but that could be explained by how much effort it takes to shift." She wondered if they could come up with something nutrient-dense enough that the other shifter could eat in cat form. Maybe she'd talk to Sooraya and Terry about it. "Do we want to try another place on the map, or take these two in for care?"
"Take these two in, I think. They are weak. Do not want to cause unnecessary stress." One of the kittens wiggled against the pouch. Sharon gently pressed a fingertip to its exposed nose. "It is hard to lose your home," she said.
"It really is, even if you happen to land somewhere soft," April agreed, rubbing the tiny heads. "Hopefully they're young enough it'll just be an adjustment." She grinned. "Eyedrop baby is riding home webbed to you. You're warmer than me."
"Yes. I shall carry." Sharon leaned forward to brush a cheek against the tiny skull. "He is my son now."
CW: Non-graphic animal death as a result of the flooding/cold.
"Okay, we've got a list of known traps in the area, and—" April broke off. "I know it might feel weird, but are you sure you don't want me to web your hind legs and feet a little? It's super gross out here." Her shifting was coming in useful for once, looking very much like the gloves and wading boots other people working on flood response were wearing. "Mostly I worry about you getting a cut that gets infected, but it probably doesn't feel as bad as weird stuff smeared into your fur, either."
"Very kind to offer. Am durable, however. Require claws for climbing also." From her perch on the dumpster Sharon lifted her nose to scent the air, but her efforts were rewarded only with a sneeze. "Air smells too much of sewage," she said, anxious. "Cannot smell them. But abandoned lot is closest site. Live traps are there. We shall check."
Without waiting for April's response, the purple cat leapt from the dumpster and bounded off.
Sharon knew the area better than she did, and this wasn't really rooftop work. She set off after the other woman, keeping a few paces behind her steady bounding. Covering Sharon's claws hadn't crossed her mind, but she understood the concern.
It was the work of seconds to enter the abandoned lot, and April followed in the cat's footsteps as they came to an empty first trap. "Okay, really hope our good luck sticks around for this," she said, gesturing to the trap. "I'd hate to know any of them had been trapped during the flood."
Sharon was already darting to inspect the next trap, heedless of the mud and slimy debris that littered the lot. "Was colony here," she said distractedly. "Three generations, maybe. Was not family, but queens allowed me to shelter with them -- ah!" The cat had lifted the blanket from one of the traps and was clearly excited by what it held. She sat on her haunches and waved April over, tail lashing.
"Thirteen weeks, or fourteen, maybe," Sharon explained as she moved the cloth aside so April could see a small, muddy grey cat cowering in the trap. "The elders are clever, but this one is too young to recognize trap still."
"Awww, baby." April was more of a dog person, but she had the same weakness for small, cute things that many others had. "Should we keep them in the trap for transport, or... I could make web pouches for any smaller cats? Just stick them to my body like extra pockets. Of cats." The idea was appealing, and scratches would heal.
"Yes. Pouches, yes. He is surely cold." Sharon opened the trap. The kitten hissed and cowered, but Sharon was patient. It was still young, and the abundance of restaurants in its territory meant it was already somewhat habituated to humans. Now that it was reaching sexual maturity its time in the colony was likely nearing an end. Gradually, the kitten calmed enough to take a few tentative steps toward the trap opening, and now when Sharon moved to pick it up it did not move away.
"X-Man rescuing kittens," Sharon mused as she turned to April, cat cradled to her chest. "Is not a waste of your skills?"
"I don't think so. Their lives are important too, and I think the strong types kinda got shuffled around to help out a little everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if I get asked to pick up heavy food bags or buckets of clean water later." April shrugged, reaching out for the kitten. "I've already been out a little helping. Holding things up, lifting and carrying. This is just part of it."
Sharon handed over the kitten with some reluctance. It was probably a bad idea to lick it clean, no matter how great the urge. "It is appreciated," she said. "Animals are always forgotten. Worry still about my brother. Was taken when apartment was cleared out, but when I acquired device again I could not find him on rescue sites. Like to think he was adopted."
"Was he... like you, or just a regular cat?" A tendril wrapped securely around the kitten, the tip scritching it slowly behind the ear. "Please don't poop on me in fright or anger, kitten," April said to it as she carefully aimed her webbing at his back. When she was done, the bedraggled fuzzball looked part mummified, with just enough space for his tail and face to show. "Is the whole "cats can't get through things their shoulders can't get through" thing true? If so, I think he's secure."
Sharon gave the wrapping a quick inspection. "Is secure. And no, Klaus was normal cat. My mother had cats always, even before me. Eldest brother was Franz, he was tortoise-shell. Male, very rare. Was not so playful, but patient. Cole lived very long. Twenty-four. Died last year." The cat began to check on the other cages, pulling aside the blankets with care. "Klaus was young still. Five, six. Would almost speak words to demand food. Mother thought I was to blame, but really he only learned what sounds pleased her. Was taken when landlord came to clean out apartment."
"Well. I hope he got adopted by people that love and spoil him. Cats are very clever, so hopefully if he did have to hide he still managed to find a good place to land." The kitten gave a plaintive meow that April decided was agreement, but was more likely indignation at the way it was being carted around. She was careful of the small body as she maneuvered around a dumpster, pulling it slightly from the wall. A few rats went scurrying. "Aw man, I hope I didn't just ruin someone's chances at a juicy dinner."
"Is better if you did. More attracted to traps then, maybe -- oh, I have found sibling." Sharon reached into a muddy stack of boxes and extracted another cat. It appeared to be the same age as the first, but with a few patches of white and a significant eye-infection. It mewed plaintively.
"Think these are all that remain," Sharon said fretfully. "This one was too ill."
"Aww baby. I bet they've been cold too, but hiding in the boxes feels pretty smart. Here, let me get this one webbed up too, and then we can move to the next area?" April thought about it for a minute, and then quietly asked, "Are the ones that didn't make it there, too? There's some grass nearby, we could bury them."
The cat hesitated, then shook her head. "No. Is waste of time. But I shall wrap and dispose of bodies so they do not spread disease. You will take this one, please." Sharon handed the kitten over to the older girl. Searching briefly, she managed to locate two plastic grocery bags that seemed mostly intact. She disappeared behind the rotting boxes, her tail slung low as she groped about the depths. "This is the life of ferals," Sharon explained. "Many die. Is only nature." After a moment she withdrew again, one bag wrapped within another, each one knotted closed. She gave April a nod. "We will worry for the living."
It was practical. April wrapped a cocoon around this small body too, then rubbed her fingers behind a tiny ear. "You said this colony had queens, but we haven't seen them yet. Where do you think they might've hidden?"
"Unsure. Flood has changed terrain, and they are cautious. Probably fled when traps were set. Will return when things have settled, maybe." There was an old metal trash barrel in the lot. Without apparent emotion Sharon deposited the sad parcel, although her tail was uncharacteristically limp.
"I smell no others," she said. "But two small ones are in need of veterinary attention. There is a place we may take them?"
One of April's tendrils unfurled, briefly rubbing along Sharon's ears before retreating. "We could probably get at least some towels and a few days of food from the rescue groups that set up by the community center. Maybe even a quick checkup. I'm... there's just the two of them. Maybe we could just take them back to the mansion. Get them chipped and fixed once they're a little older, let them have the run of the grounds. I've got space and money to feed them, if nothing else, but there's also the barn cats to help raise them."
Something about the colony was twigging at the back of her mind. "Hey Sharon? How did you live with the colony, big as you are? Or can you shift smaller sometimes?"
"Yes. I am thing between human and cat, and I may shift across this spectrum. Was one of my original forms. Imprinted upon Klaus and Cole, maybe, just as I did upon my mother. Unsure what becomes of excess mass, or by what mechanism it is retrieved or added, but certain physical reserves are required. Was small when I left home because housecat attracts less attention, requires less food. But consumes less food, also, and so reserves are more difficult to replenish. Small form cannot speak, also." Sharon walked up to April and briefly touched her nose to the other woman's hand in acknowledgement, then repeated the action with one of the swaddled kittens. "When I judged it time to introduce myself I gorged for days so that I could change. Very difficult. Could not shift again for months. Even now I must be conservative."
"That makes sense, scientifically. Except for where your mass goes, but that could be explained by how much effort it takes to shift." She wondered if they could come up with something nutrient-dense enough that the other shifter could eat in cat form. Maybe she'd talk to Sooraya and Terry about it. "Do we want to try another place on the map, or take these two in for care?"
"Take these two in, I think. They are weak. Do not want to cause unnecessary stress." One of the kittens wiggled against the pouch. Sharon gently pressed a fingertip to its exposed nose. "It is hard to lose your home," she said.
"It really is, even if you happen to land somewhere soft," April agreed, rubbing the tiny heads. "Hopefully they're young enough it'll just be an adjustment." She grinned. "Eyedrop baby is riding home webbed to you. You're warmer than me."
"Yes. I shall carry." Sharon leaned forward to brush a cheek against the tiny skull. "He is my son now."
