#[ I know you sent this around the sameish time I rb'd the 'catphie with big dogs I need this' post so tyvm Dylan ;A; ]

[madamhatter]

Wisteria stares down at the little black cat in her wolf form, near unblinking. Eventually her eyes narrowed as she lifts an absurdly large paw, placing it on top Sophie's head as carefully as she could. Cute....

Earthed away by decades of heavy rains and winds, decorated now by small bustles of emerald moss, was none other than the remaining ramshackle wall that marked the boundary of Market Chipping's outskirts. The barrier stands no taller than at chest height with a middle-aged farmer. Erected by the first settlers, caravans, and cattle that established the town, it has witnessed countless locals, traveling wagons, and straggling strays since its existence.

Yet it wasn't the sole observer to the land. A partner once stood parallel to it, separated by the dirt path still used today. Long since has its equal been relocated. Its stones relocated closer to town or in town, repurposed for other infrastructures or homes. No questions asked, no consideration given. All that came to these parts was change, and that was simply that.

Alone today, however, it was not.

As a thick cloak of mist passed through the valley, typical in the early hours of the morrow, most would find such location deserted and uneasily perceivable through the dewy haze. The heavy fog turns idyllic moors and hills to an almost unnavigable labyrinth. Only laborers to the fields and traders of the roads who frequented these parts would bother with the trek.

The only hint of company was a shimmering black disappearing in and out of sight. In a calm rhythm, it moves, but visibly inscrutable it is.

Leaving light imprints in the dirt on the well-traveled road was a curious sight. Pacing to and fro, the rare sunray breaching through mist giving slight shine to silken fur was a feline with a sizeable maroon bow tied on the back of its neck. Irises of mahogany always set forward, glancing around the location with a sheer look of concentration in an otherwise illegible expression.

The cat's tail flickers back and forth, high in the air with a slight curl at the end. Blatant is the existence of intention in mind, but the exact purpose unknown. Even as the early birds begin singing their song, or the start of ruffling in the brush of trees and bushes nearby, the cat gave little attention to the bramble bushes and the daisies growing on the other side of the path. Her nostrils flare a bit with a soft inhale, and her mouth opens a bit. She closes her mouth in seconds, shakes her head, and continues walking.

Retracing her steps, the cat's charcoal paws filled each imprint perfectly. Yet the pacing slows to halt as they approach the edge of the wall facing the wilderness. Front paws line up with where the wall ended, the cat looking down the hillside now where the birch and oak trees thrive. Stationing themselves to a stop, she sits with her tail continues its flicker.

Her eyes of petrified wood gloss over the mossy remains of Market Chipping's ancestry. Unspoken solidarity between feline and wall exists. A component to the town and an ever-present but passive watcher, they both will remain as long as their utility sees them fit or until forgotten.

One long breath, ears folding back, and the cat's head snaps her head forward.

New movement breaks the blanket of mist on the hillside. The closer it got, the more the slow-approaching figure's harmless silhouette had to be reconsidered. Another form of the night appears before the cat's eyes - a looming shadow growing larger and larger with each step taken closer.

Higher and higher does the form ascend up up the hillside and yet the cat remains stationary. Once close enough, the query of who is coming to town is answered. And it is quite a terrifying one.

Razor-sharp fangs of white peeking underneath a long muzzle, fur thicker than a bear and their own height rivaling a bear’s too, a monstrous wolf approaches the idyllic Market Chipping. Two meters between the marvelous beast and the town’s barrier, there is only some moments one can have to themselves before imminent mauling. 

Yet there is already the cat springing into action - trotting towards the creature with a soft “mrrw” and her eyes not once leaving the approaching figure. 

The behemoth wolf stops in her tracks, watching the nonchalant cat approach without a care in the world. The average feline, meanwhile, affirms her rightful seat before the canine and stares up at her, wide-eyed.

A staring competition begins: the wolf’s stern gaze versus the cat’s entranced stare. Nothing seems to break the spell between them as the cat inflates her chest a bit, a little chirp of enthusiasm leaving before being rendered to complete silence.

Then truly the worst thing happened! Her opponent decided to play dirty: she laid her giant paw over the cat’s face, blinding her! Thankfully, it was only resting on top of her head without any malicious intention. However, judging from the low whine from the cat, she wasn’t at all pleased by the course of action. 

Yet now here she is, lifting her own paw, repeatedly tapping at the paw to release her. She already blinked! There’s no sense in trying to rub in the loss! Unless she was trying to pet her...? Which is considerably, given what they are now, and there was certainly an aspect of her not for it. (The thing she fails to mention is that ‘the aspect’ is her smidge of pride). 

Now the cat’s other paw joins the fray. Both paws hook over the wolf’s paw, right where the joint is. She pulls it a bit closer, bringing it to her face. Her tongue sticks out and she leans in a bit, now grooming the wolf’s paw without a care with the world. Trying to fix all that wild hair and get it to slick in a certain style was a goal. But judging from how quickly she released it, it was not her current one.

The feline gets back to her feet, nodding her head to the wolf. She takes some steps back, turns herself away from the wolf, and begins pacing a bit forward. Not even a minute passes and the cat is back, with the same pep in her step, and heading straight towards the wolf. She mouths at the wolf’s dense fur, tugging a bit, before taking some steps forward again. 

‘Let’s get going back home’ is what has been on her mind all day.