Cat Core Novels & Stories

I could feel my wolf become restless inside me but paused when I heard the meowing of Raija's cat. Narrowing my glowing eyes, I spotted the horrid little creature on the window sill inside of the home. Curling my lip I headed straight for the open window and leaned over to instill my dominance over the feline. "It is trying to converse with me. He says his name is Tom and he is a spiritual advisor for Raija, very interesting," Cota said in my subconscious. Furrowing my brow I hissed, "Ask him if the woman is a true witch or a deranged human." Glaring at the black beast my ears twitch hearing paws breaking twigs.

They gave Frost wary looks, and an awkward silence filled the air once more. Heartbeats seemed to pass before the she-cat finally returned. Behind her was a large cat with brown fur and dark ginger paws. Frost swallowed back the fear that was rising in her throat. These cats were related to her kits' father. There was nothing to be afraid of as long as she appeared strong in front of them.

He sure as hell looked more intimidating than most, but somehow he was rather gentle. "I have a cat. Her name is Mittens. She was a stray and I took her in after I left my pack. I could relate, you know?" Carlton explained and moved closer to the wound again. I shut my eyes as he pressed the tip of the prongs in. Metal slipped in my blood, looking for the bullet that might leave me cripple. "She is ginger and black with white patches all along her body. I built her a cat play house before I came here. Some of my friends said they would look after her. I miss that girl every damn day," he admitted.

(SMALL THEATER) Cat: I'm hungry, Fish: Then find food, Cat: But I already have one. Fish: Huh? The fish looks at her with a clueless face and buffered eyes, still unknown to the cat's words.The cat smirks and leans over to his face. Cat: I said. I already have a meal, The fish still could not understand but when the cat held his tail and hovered over him that's the time when he understood everything. The meal she means is me? He looked straight at the cat gulping down his nervousness and ready his lungs to shout for help.

and the home address was definitely familiar. It was her best friend, Kaylee's, address. As far as she knew Kaylee's family only owned a little grey shnauzer? It had been years since they had owned a cat. Maybe Kaylee had neglected to tell her about getting a new cat? Dropping the tag and scratching the cat's head, Cara wondered what the cat was doing way over here. Kaylee's house was a few blocks away. She stood up carrying the cat with her across the porch and down the steps. Cara figured that since it was such a nice day she would just walk the cat home and maybe get to visit with her best friend for a little while.

“We’ve already got contacts checkin’ their safehouses. We’ll know soon enough where Cole’s layin’ his head.” Cat, lounging in her chair with her legs crossed like she was posing for a mob wife magazine cover, gave an exaggerated shudder. “Ugh, honestly? I told you that man was greasy. You didn’t listen. Now here we are in some Scottish Godfather fever dream.” “Cat,” I warned. She ignored me, turning to Declan with a dreamy sigh. “Also? Can I just say you look ridiculously hot cleaning your gun earlier? I almost needed a cold shower.”

G****e it. Rolling his eyes, he slips a phone from his pocket. "If you don't even know what a cat drinks then you shouldn't have one." He grumbles as his fingers type the question in. It's my turn to roll my eyes. I am perfectly capable of taking care of a cat. Once I figure out what they drink. "Most cats are lactose intolerant. After they're weaned off their mother's milk most kittens lose the ability to digest milk sugar efficiently, so their primary source of hydration is water." Hunter recites out loud.

Rayne bit the inside of her lip and considered her answer as her cat purred louder at the sound of his voice. Her animal was clearly intrigued by the vampire which was surprising as her cat didn't usually pay much attention to men around her. But something about the vampire had its attention. Maybe it was his question? He was obviously knowledgeable about wildcats. He knew the black panther was not in fact a panther but a member of either the leopard or jaguar family. That would stroke her cat's ego, that this male was asking an intelligent question about its origins. She considered her options and then went for the truth as she knew it.

So pure that even snow seemed dull in comparison. By the first day, Snowy opened his eyes. On day two, he started walking. And on day three, he could open doors, shred the milk box with his razor-sharp teeth, and drink all the fresh milk in the building. Leo and Luna were satisfied with raw food. Not Snowy. He only ate live prey. He drove the neighborhood's escaped hamsters to extinction, snapped up fish straight from hooks, and even hunted a neighbor's pet rabbit. My role as "cat mama" escalated—I was now the posthumous disaster manager: cleaning up after carnage, apologizing to neighbors, begging forgiveness, and still having to earn money.

In the quiet hum of the testing lab, amidst the sterile white walls and the gentle whirring of machinery, a small tabby cat slinked in through a partially open window. Its emerald eyes scanned the room, curiosity piqued by the sight of a lone bottle of milk sitting on a laboratory table. Hunger gnawed at its stomach, a primal urge that led it closer to the tantalizing scent of fresh dairy. The bottle, with its cap carelessly left open, beckoned like an oasis in the desert. With a swift paw, the cat nudged the bottle, sending it teetering towards the edge. The milk inside sloshed, a promise of nourishment and comfort.