Wednesday, July 14, 2010
bitter milk, pt. 2
"You're so messy, Rosie." Winston gently rubbed down Rosalind with a hot towel, fresh from the dryer. The blood would stain the couch, but there were tons of other stains already. He'd get the couch reupholstered eventually. Meanwhile he had to get to work.
He scruffed at Rosie's ears. "You're such a good kitty, I really can't stay mad at you for ruining my couch." Rosie mewled in response, and he left.
The door closed and Rosalind licked at the saucer. The milk was bitter, but she liked it bitter, just as she liked licking at her wounds and tasting the iron as the blood seeped into her mouth. She smelled some meat on the coffee table, but for now she snuggled into the hot towel, closed her eyes, and fell asleep purring. She was going to sneak out and meet up with that kitten later, and she'd need her rest.