Chapter Text
Ethel skittered across the yard, quick enough so Shelley wouldn’t watch her through the window, and was soon surrounded by towering trees. She slowed her pace as she moved deeper into the woods.
Ethel has the whole day to herself, Shelley would be at scouts for a while. He had meetings twice a week, one day out of the week she had some room to breathe.
Shelley’s been in scouts for as long as she’s been alive. Their mother let him join not too long after Ethel was born, to give him a day to breathe without her, the new baby. And he was a ‘patriarch in the making’, he needed to learn some masculine skills, how to lead and protect. The Longpre’s, with Catholic teachings and boy scouts combined, would create a perfect patriarch. A patriarch who would never get therapy, no matter what he thinks, what he does, or what he’s capable of. Mrs. Longpre would never birth a mentally unwell child.
Ethel has been to a few meetings, sometimes the scoutmaster would invite families to the meetings, where they’ll do activities or go on small outings, the outdoor outings she enjoyed more than anything. And she started noticing something during those outings, she wasn’t forced to spend time with Shelley. In fact, the scoutmaster had been guiding her away from Shelley. The way he looked at her, the way he interacted with her…He was…concerned? And he actually respected her boundaries, and found alternate ways to communicate with her rather than forcing her to speak. He never seemed to see her as ‘that mute’.
The way he treated her was unfamiliar and she didn’t know how to feel about it.
Ethel continued into the woods, brown leaves crunch under the Mary Janes her mother made her wear. She squints as the sun peaks out from behind a cloud, she always preferred cloudy weather, where the sun is there but hidden, not blinding.
Myaaa
Ethel looked down at the soft mewling on her trail. It was the same kitten from yesterday, the little tuxedo one. Ethel kneels down in front of the kitten, sitting on her knees. Observing the kitten’s body language, Ethel came to the conclusion that she was being friendly. Both because she was following her and because her softly pointed black tail was held straight up. Cats raise their tails when they’re feeling happy.
Ethel tore off a small piece of bacon and held it out. The greasy smell of the dead pig makes her nose scrunch softly. The kitten, however, perked up in interest upon seeing food, stepping forward to silently sniff at it, before she opened her mouth to accept it, chewing it up while making content little noises.
Myamyamyamyamyam…myam…
Ethel pulled off another piece and rested it on her finger-tips as she held it out for the kitten, which the tiny carnivore happily took up. The kitten chewed up the processed meat, clearly having not eaten much these past few days, maybe even longer. As soon as the kitten finished the piece of bacon, she didn’t wait for Ethel to tear another piece, she reached her tiny paw out and batted at the rest of the bacon, which Ethel dropped, letting her have it.
As the strip of bacon dropped to the ground, the kitten practically pounced on it and began to tuck into her breakfast. She tore off a chunk with her sharp little teeth, lifted her head up, chewed audibly, gleefully.
Myamnyamnyamnyamnyamnyamnyamnyam
The kitten puts her head back down as she continues eating. Ethel tilted her head and gently laid down the second strip of bacon, which made the kitten’s head perk up. More food for her. After a few seconds, she went back to finishing the first strip of bacon.
Ethel watched the kitten silently, contently. She never reached out to pet the kitten while she was eating, she knew cats tend to get protective of their food, and Ethel didn’t want to give her the impression that she would steal food from her, she wanted the little thing to trust her, she wanted all animals to trust her, she wasn’t a murderer like the others, like Shelley. Yet she understood why animals hesitated to trust humans. Humans kill animals not just for food, but for sport, and that’s the cruelest thing you can do to a creature that has never harmed you, a creature that is focused on its own life. Buck attacks are rare, especially with their natural fear of humans, yet their heads hang on the walls of hunters.
The kitten finishes eating, licking excess meat off of her canines as she looks back up at Ethel with more trust in her yellow eyes. Like daffodils. Ethel slowly, gently, leaned forward and reached her hand out, which surprisingly prompted the kitten to rub her downy-furred head against her hand. This kitten was somehow not as skittish as any other kitten. Cats who were once domestic are usually more quick to trust people. Maybe she was born in a human home and something happened, maybe she ran away.
As Ethel leaned down, her dirty blonde hair fell right over the kitten, which the animal had taken notice of. Her little white paws began to bat at Ethel’s hair. Cats tend to attack small things that hang, it activates their predatory instincts, which is why they enjoy those dangling feather toys. And this kitten saw Ethel’s hair as easy prey to catch.
Mew!
The kitten’s tiny claws extended as she successfully caught onto one of Ethel’s stringy locks. The kitten mewled excitedly as she began to gnaw on the girl’s hair, like a mouse she caught. A small hint of a smile forms on Ethel’s face, she didn’t mind that the tugging at her hair did hurt a little. But she understood that the kitten wasn’t hurting her out of malicious intent, she was just playing, like a young feline normally does.
Ethel softly strokes the top of the kitten's fuzzy, black-furred head as she attempts to get on her hind legs to catch more of Ethel’s hair. But the little thing ends up clumsily stumbling backwards and falling on her back. Ethel puts a hand to her mouth as she gently puts her other hand behind the kitten’s back to help her get back on her paws.
Meeeew!
The kitten kneads and crunches the leaves below as all four of her paws come into contact with the ground. Ethel’s smile extends a little more, exhaling a quiet laugh. She gently runs her fingers back and forth across the kitten’s back.
Meeeeeeeeeew
The kitten turns to needily rub the top of her head into Ethel’s palm, which Ethel complies to and begins soothing the kitten’s downy head. The kitten’s little body emanates a clicky vibrating sound, Ethel could feel the soft rumbling under her fur. Ethel yawns quietly and lays down in the dirt, curling up into a fetal position all while still petting the kitten. The kitten stretches her tiny body, her back arching downward and her paws clawing at the ground before curling up at the girl’s chest.
A rare feeling welled up in Ethel’s chest; peace. Just for a moment, it felt like nothing was wrong in her life. No parents, no Shelley, no ostracization. It was just her, this kitten, and the maternal wilderness tenderly embracing them.
As the kitten purred against Ethel’s chest, they both drifted to sleep.