Solo Raining Cats, Not Dogs

[Kiva]

55th of Spring, 515 A.V

Rain poured heavily from the skies, drenching everything in sight. Kiva clutched the coat around her frame, grunting as she pulled her sandals from the mud each time she took a step down the muddy path to the Sanctuary. Grass and the buds of flowers decorated the edges of the walkway, and Kiva moved briskly to prevent her feet from sticking. The thought of a hot meal and a warm bed kept her from giving up, her legs tiring from the struggling walk. Her hair stuck to her neck and her clothes clutched her body like a second skin. It was loathsome.

Between the sucking sound of the mud and the rush of the rain, Kiva nearly missed the weak call of a sad and helpless animal. A meow. A cat? The Myrian paused, turning her head, 'No, a kitten.' After many ticks, she heard it again and wandered around, 'The sound is familiar. Kitten.'

She was sure. Poking around the bushes, she heard it again, and stopped. She was close, but not close enough. She moved further away from the path, stepping through the brush listening for its cries. When she heard it again, she had to stop herself from stepping on it. Half emerged in mud, a tiny body mingled in with the dark mud. It's green eyes looked up to her, and it tried to squirm but gave up. It was too weak. Covered in mud and with the rain pouring on it, the little thing shivered and a pang of sadness struck the Myrian's heart.

"Navre!" she cursed, crouching immediately and digging her fingers into the mud, pulling the sludge away from the thing's body. It had gotten stuck some time ago, and even with the mud and soaked fur, Kiva thought she could see fleas run across its nose and disappear back into the mess. It cried once more and feverently, she dug away, scooping the poor baby in her arms and pressing it too her chest. It was cold, and she held it up, the kitten fitting into her palm. Rain water fell on it more, and she let it rinse the thing off. She used her hand to pull away extra mud from it's black fur, feeling the animal shake in her hands.

When it was clean enough, she opened her wet coat and pressed the tiny cat against her skin, so that it could benefit from the warmth of her own body. Then Kiva pulled straightened up and moved to the road. She began to run, using both hands to cradle the kitten so it wouldn't jostle too much. She needed to get to the Sanctuary. Out of the rain, and into a warm blanket.

"You will be okay," Kiva whispered to the kitten, using her native tongue of Myrian, "Navre will save you and I will help." If that was true, Kiva was not so sure. She had the determination to save the animal, but not the knowledge. It would need to be warmed, fed, and cleaned. Anything more substantial, would need another gifted member of the Sanctuary to help save it. Kiva would do her best.

[Kiva]

Kiva moved fast, running through the mud and pushing herself to not slow down. Her legs burned, continuously having to yank themselves from the gunk of the earth, sending specks of mud flying with each step. The kitten was silent, pressed against her chest, and the Myrian muttered prayers to the god of cats for guidance in saving this creature. Then to Dira, asking for more time.

When the Sanctuary came into view, Kiva breathed a sigh of relief, travelling down the long road to the front door. She barreled in, pushing open the large doors and immediately kicking off her shoes. The woman wasted no time, immediately heading to the kitchen where other members of the Sanctuary were fixing a midday meal.

"Hello, Miss Kiva," one of them greeted, looking at her from the side as they peeled a number of apples, "Are you hungry?"

"No," Kiva breathed, feeling the heat of the room surround her on such a nasty day outside, "Do we have any meat? Anything for a kitten to eat?" She stroked the tiny animal inside her shirt, heading straight to the pantry and rummaging through it.

The two women in the kitchen gave her a funny look, "Well, I think one of the members went to the market this morning. There, on the counter. Here, let me help you."

Kiva must have looked a thorough mess, soaked and muddy, clutching at her torso with a motherly protectiveness. 'Navre has given me this responsibility,' she reasoned to herself, 'I must not fail him.'

Setting down her apples, one women disappeared from the room, and Kiva struggled to use one hand to fill a pot of water, taking it to the stove to heat up. A tiny mew rose from the cat, and the Myrian replied, "I know, sweet cat. I know."

Kiva carefully extracted the animal from her body and it shivered in her hand. It's body temperature was low, no doubt, and when one of the women returned with two towels, thinking the Myrian would need them both for herself, Kiva nodded in thanks and immediately wrapped the cat in one, taking it and setting it close to the fire. It laid there, pitifully, enjoying the warmth but crying all the same.

"Oh, precious thing! Was it out in the rain this whole time?"

"Stuck in the mud," Kiva replied, rinsing off her hands and going to retrieve a slab of beef from the counter. Grabbing a knife, she cut off a small portion, leaving the rest for whoever was to cook dinner, and began to chop the meal into very tiny portions. More than once her blade slipped and she nearly cut herself, but she was meticulous, looking over her shoulder to check on her new responsibility. It mewed, looking up at her from across the room. Slipping the meat onto a tiny saucer, Kiva moved to scoop the animal back up and retrieve the pot of water. Balancing all was tricky, but after a moment, she bid farewell to the woman and headed for her room.

"Sweet cat, are you hungry?"

[Kiva]

Behind the cover of her room, Kiva set the animal on her bed, and lowered both the warm pot of water and dish onto the floor. She stripped her clothes, bumps dancing across her skin from the chill. She used the other towel to dry her hair and went to retrieve a better set of clothes. She had none. Cursing, she took one of the thin sheets that had been bunched at the end of the mattress and wrapped it around her form, tying it off at her chest. A makeshift dress.

Now, time for more pressing matters.

Crouching at the side of her bed, Kiva slowly unwrapped the kitten enough to get a better look at its face. It's eyes were a bright green, pupils dilated to make them appear mostly black. The animal was tiny, but nothing close to a new born. Thin from lack of food, maybe, and that's when the Myrian set the meat in front of it.

"Can you eat this?"

Unsure of the feline's age, the dark haired woman didn't know if it was still on it's mother's milk or not. After a little bit of sniffing, the animal weakly tried to take a few bites and hope jumped in the Myrian's chest. Not too weak to eat!

That was good, right?