Writing Prompt

(Dark twist on this prompt. Just bear with me on the weird spelling its supposed to be a kitten so i personified them as a very young child) iy luv yu yu wil nevr undarstan d howw mutch iy lob pley nn with yor thingss wen yu col meeh "damcat" "thet damcat" nd send meeh outesied mayb its stel lov papa mayb its stel yer lov wen yu tell me “git outa my dam shuz” call meh fleedritten no gud dumcat sumcat yew turndote tubee mayb eye juscant tale sow my clawztel owr stor e becuz u sayd red wuz yor favoret color nd nowe itz evrywher

I’m not bad, I’m not good, I’m just misunderstood. Vicious killer, In a bloody thriller. But look into my eyes And you’ll soon realise That my spirit is pure And I’m shy and insecure. See beyond the hate Open your heart’s gate For I live within you Believe it, for its true. And you’re part of me Look deeply and you’ll see We are but one Inseparable and undone. I’m your wildness and your fears Your laughter and your tears I’m the freedom you seek The secrets you struggle to keep. You can run but you can’t hide It’s to yourself that you’ve lied Chasing me is high treason You betray your spirit and your reason.

So, I was just down the road the other day, staring at the sun, minding my own business when - - - there's someone who looks just like me standing right there! One second...ouch! Okay, that was just my reflection. Anyway, where was I? Oh, did you know if you turn your head upside down, you can actually see better? Me either. Last time I tried that, people laughed at me. What's that?! Hmmm. Okay, well, that was strange. So many things to keep an eye on around here. I like to find food just laying around and then poke at it for like a good 7 seconds before eating it. Random thought: what happens if you're stuck in a glass building? Freedom’s right there, but you can't get to it. My head hurts. Oh! There's a bug! Fascinating...not anymore. Moving on. I like trees. They seem so tall and sturdy and safe. Crazy weather we’re having today, isn't it? Could just blow you away. I don't like being out in it, but what can you do? Food to buy, food to eat. Oh! I heard there's a lady in the park handing out- - - is that a crumb? Oof! Hello! Hello! Hello! Okay, is it just me or is the world going too fast?

A tiger: ruthless, forthcoming, strong, loving, and relaxed. She is above average height, toned, zen, and has simple but impeccable style. A yellow fitted tee with baggy black harem pants compliment her physique, and she has long, wavy hair complimented by gold hoop earrings. She knows that she cannot figure the world out, so she lives life carefree and simple. Nobody can test her, or they’ll get scratched. Being intimidating has its consequences. Living in a sort of solitude, her presence doesn’t need help to survive. She is quick and unbothered. What kind of animal do you like? Why do you like them? What qualities about them do you admire? I love tigers, but I guess I’m more like a bunny than a tiger.

Looking at the tops of everybody’s heads is annoying. Nobody’s head looks good from the top. Their face, maybe. But I can never see their faces. Bending down hurts my back. I’m getting too old for this.

Being tall kinda sucks. Especially when your skinny. But at least I’m not short. My friend monkey tells me that you NEVER want to see the inside of a gorilla’s nostrils. Being tall isn’t too bad, but the worst part is getting a girl. Sure I catch their attention, but not for the reasons your thinking. My yellow, blotchy complexion and skinny frame don’t do wonders for my too-baggy clothes, either. I snort when I laugh, and I’m vegan. Nobody likes vegans.

Streamlined skull idling in the reed grass Among the jumpseed fleet footed bones poise white ribcage releasing the coattails of winter heart pounding, feet pounding

eating up earth and asphalt nothing can hold me down no one can catch me again gulping mouthfuls of warm moist air

Calm wicks off my skin Chunks of me careen away as I pick up Speed trickles down my spine and pools on my sun picked bones still running

Running without looking back is sanctuary Streaks of flesh race off trim hooves Tufts of hair run free

Long ago there lived a lady with rosy skin and a noisy disposition, her nose was large and she struggled to breathe causing her to grunt and groan and snore much to the behest of her husband. She was a clean lady, taking good care of her body despite her willingness to eat any and all manner of things. She often bathed in baths filled with mud which she claimed kept her skin young and healthy.

The lady birthed several children at once and despite the objections from her peers breastfed them two at a time. Her youngest and seventh to be born, who the local villagers named the runt, always got the last of the milk and was therefore smaller in comparison to his siblings.

The lady was a kind and intelligent mother, bettering all the men in her village at mathematics and arithmetic, making enemies of many of them.

One day as she soaked in her mud bath her home was invaded by the villagers who believed her intellect was due to witchcraft, they dragged her out kicking and screaming as mud flung about the room and followed her out into the village. They stuck an apple in her mouth and proclaimed her Lady Sow as they roasted her alive on the pyre.

Her body may have gone to the earth, but the lady’s spirit lived on and she cursed the crops so that no food would grow and the villagers would eventually starve. Her children were blamed and all, but the runt followed in their mother’s footsteps. He took a blade and slaughtered all who were guilty by slitting their throats as they hung upside down in his shed. Their blood watered the ground beneath him and grew the most glorious crops known to man. He and The innocent villagers thrived on the land their blood was returned to.

His shaggy hair, a mane of splendor. Eyes as sharp as a diamond that pierce into your very heart. Some say wisdom lies in his eyes but I hear it in his words. No matter what tone he speaks, his words are like a roar that catches the attention of a crowd. As soon as he enters a room you can’t help but stare as he walks with an aura of confidence that’s hard to bare. Still, there's something about him that makes him difficult to approach. I can't place it but just as he ignites hope there is a fear cooking inside of me.

He could be the greatest leader we’ll ever know or the one that will make us look like the biggest of fools.

Raven rode into town on her buckskin horse. She’d heard the sheriff of Coyote’s Call had cleaned the town up in a little over a year. She was sure this would be a risk, but it’d be a risk worth taking. The bank, as a result of the lack of crime and surplus of miners, contained all the shiny gold Raven could ever want.

“Let’s see what you’re made of Sheriff Fox.”

Raven rode slowly through town—no need to tip people off that she was in a rush. She stopped at a general store next to the bank. The hitching post was worn from use. Fresh white paint garnered the old building, and new black letters in all capitals screamed “HARE’S WARES” over the awning.

“Who’s there?!” The merchant about jumped out of his white shirt at the sound of the door opening.

“Just a traveler. Need to restock before I hit the road.” Raven avoided eye contact, but keep up the neat of the conversation. “Heard y’all have one helluva lawman here.”

Mr. Hare shook his head with a great bucktoothed grin, as if this were a personal achievement of his. “That about sums him up right there! Not a scoundrel brave or stupid enough to rouse the Sheriff! My if I haven’t had a holdup in two years now. Why, just five days ago I was speaking to Mrs. Hound about the…”

Raven walked the shop and browsed the wares, only half listening to the incessant babble spewing forth from the silly rabbit. In silence, she investigated the little general store for any convenient entry she could use as a getaway after she struck the bank.

“…but you know Sheriff Fox! I suppose he just has a weakness for black haired ladies! Anyways, Miss kitty left about—“

“What did you say?” Raven just had a terribly bright idea.

“Why the Sheriff! The way he fawned after Miss Kitty before she left town became a sort of wildfire with the town gossips! It’s all anybody would talk about for months. Poor Sheriff Fox wouldn’t even leave the jail for days. Probably licking his wounds. Poor soul.”

Mr. Hare wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve, as if having a conversation with himself was equivalent to plowing a field. Raven mostly kept her mouth shut after her interruption. The way the man talked didn’t give much room to speak anyway. She quickly gathered the supplies she needed, noted the stairs to the second story window, and put her goods on the counter.

“Well, speaking of black-haired womenfolk, you wouldn’t happen to be here to break our Sheriff’s heart, would ya?” He smirked at the wit of his dull jest.

Her eyes shines under the brim of her dusty black Stetson, grinning to the thought of the gold she’d soon have. “I might just be.”

I’ve never really been good at blending in. I just have an electric personality. Really I am just to popular to stay in the shadows. The wings probably don’t hurt either though. Although they are annoying when I’m not using them, they do come in handy every once and a while. Like one time last year a squirrel child fell of the roof and I had to spread my wings and help him land safely. This is the burden of being the the only winged student at mixed animal high. I do enjoy the attention though.