Pirate Cat Novels & Stories

His fate had been sealed the moment he accepted the bet. “Fuck it,” he growled. He grabbed the phone and started typing. He picked the most generic female name he could think of—Sandra. Blonde hair, curvy, hot. A catfish dream. He must’ve committed mutiny in his past life. “How the hell am I supposed to find Wallace on here?” he asked. Aaron took a swig from his beer and grinned. “Mate, you’re 500 miles out at sea. Out of the ten guys close enough to ping, Wallace’ll be one of them.”

(Madam Reanga) A new customer, Madam Reanga comes and placed her order, which Old Mento went straight to prepare them. Mamda Reanga is a Demi-Human of Cat Clan, her fluffy claw hand and cat ears always wiggling like crazy when she visited the Wet Market. But her words also made everyone nodded in agreements, everyone knew that all Oceanic Foods were premium and luxury, but now they can get it and dine on like no tomorrow, with just a few credits.

"Oh, the clicking? That's just me trying to identify hidden dangers or gatitos up the trees." "Wait, you are a dolphin? But, this is too inland for dolphins..." Come on, kitty, you can get there… "River dolphins. Pink dolphins!" She saw realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Kitty cats had very undisciplined facial expressions. "Holy shit! The legends. Witches. Encantado."

Then something odd happened. All his life, Seth had seen cats instantly right themselves in mid-air and land on their feet after falling from any height. Apparently, dragons shared that instinct. Time almost seemed to slow as Seth's body automatically twisted in mid fall. Suddenly, Seth was facing the main deck coming up to meet his face. He stuck out both arms and legs landing on all fours; badly, but he landed. Then the pirate landed on top of him, flattening him to the deck and nearly knocking the wind out of him before rolling away.

have found me so fast. She shoved the thought down. Hard. Across the yard, Jasmine and Kika were locked in a brutal spar. Jasmine—wild cat number 89—was dominating, landing elbow strikes and knee drives that had Kika (101) staggering. Serial stood at the edge of the mat, arms crossed, shouting critiques. “Too slow, 101! You fight like you’re scared of pain—newsflash, it’s coming anyway!” Jasmine swept Kika’s legs; Kika hit the mat hard. Serial barked a laugh. Then her gaze shifted. Landed on Riley. A slow, predatory smile curled her lips. “Oh look who we have here,” Serial called, loud enough to draw eyes from every corner of the yard. “The runaway wild cat. Quite surprising how out of the