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Biscuit was snug as a bug in a rug. His head tucked against a pillow, the moonlight not shining into his eyes and his blankets the perfect warmth. The house did creak occasionally, but that was normal. Even then, he was absolutely exhausted, spending the whole day baking and having a picnic with Claire and her friends.
They did seem very friendly! However, he liked spending one on one time with Claire better, having much more experience with that situation.
He felt a vague breeze hit the tip of his tail, so he just tucked it under the covers. His eyes relaxed more, even when they were closed. He finally dozed off, falling into the realm of nice and happy dreams.
Creaking…?
Biscuit’s dreams were colorful, a nice field where he could jump and play…chase? Chasing mice, probably for tag. Oh, how polite they were!
Creaking…
He was next to Claire, enrolled in her school! He obviously aced all of his tests, even when he was being chased by…a librarian? He could run across time! “
“Come on, Biscuit!” He had to sprint to catch up to Claire as they flew in space.
Someone’s coming closer.
Quills of ink, typewriters, books, glasses, flew by him as he crawled through walls, being in a tour of intestines and of veins and arteries. He was spun around, stepping on blue and red, green and yellow.
Someone is here. Hands on his shoulder! Wake up!
His body was thrown from dreams and into the abruptly colder world, his claws coming out to instinctively attack the intruder. Instead, he had a spike of pain shoot through his head as his head slammed against the ground. The unforgiving grip dug into his fur, making his skull feel like it would shatter if he did not comply at that very moment. Another hand, another claw, gripped onto his scruff and yanked him to his feet. It hurt, but the fear had him freezing in place. His eyes flicked around, quickly spotting his assailant.
A beige ushanka. An army coat.
Adien?
The young woman(?)’s eyes locked onto the smaller boy’s, as she seemed to carry something that she had dropped as she focused on subduing her…target? Victim?
She was just…staring. Menacingly.
Her hand let go of his head, jerking upwards as a…kite flew into his hands. The colors weren’t made from synthetic materials, it looked softer than that. His quaking was constant, as Aiden carelessly shoved the kite into his muzzle, his nose against the stretched…leather?
He didn’t dare move, lest Aiden get…upset by his defiance. He let himself be dragged outside, but shivered in the cold. It was the dead of winter, it fuken WIMDY, and he wasn’t able to put his winter coat on. His whiskers quivered, his paws almost jumping in an effort to be on the ground for the least amount of time possible.
It seemed to annoy Aiden greatly, as she stopped to stare down at him. …probably annoyed. Biscuit cowered, feeling powerless.
He stopped shaking when he was pelted by a thick light gray and navy coat. He scrambled to get it on, sighing in the warmth. He buttoned it back up, the bottom nearly scraping against the ground.
Biscuit observed the “gift” he had. The leather was light, and soft to the touch. He sorta liked it, but it was-
Was…was… human.
Biscuit wanted to throw it away, but Aiden would GET him if he did anything. So he still cradled it, even when his steps were shaky and he wanted to scream.
Aiden didn’t face him, but she also wasn’t fazed by the cold, it looks like. So off they went, continuing their trek.
Soon, they stopped in a clearing. An exceptionally strong gust of wind tore the kite out of his paws, and he frantically grasped the “string” to catch a hold. Whatever it was, it was flexible and Biscuit didn’t want to try and figure out what it was no thank you.
He watched the kite soar, the wind making it dance…or try to flee. Biscuit was warm in the thick coat, but it didn't help with the frigid fear in his bones. He tried to focus on the kite’s swishing instead of what it was itself… or the lady behind him, watching his every move. Her cold, likely as emotionless as a…witch… gaze, took every breath he took, every tremor of his body, and internally wrote it down.
However, the flicking and whooshing of the kite brought out his inner kitten, as his form relaxed. The moon's light left the kite in shadow, which he could use to pretend it wasn't made of skin.
At times, he could feel Aiden's breathing behind him, as his ears flattened against his head. Had he known better, he would have thought she was excited. Happy to watch him “play”.
But Aiden is a monster. Was. Is. Will be.
The kite almost flew out of his hands, his yowl lost to the wind as he leapt to snag it back. Unfortunately, he also face planted into the snow. His nose was filled with snow, causing him to sneeze harshly. The impossibly heavy coat, leaden down with who knows what sort of weapons, only allowed him to raise his head.
Aiden watched him stumble to his feet impassively, plucking the string before he could let it go again. She tied the string to his outstretched paw, instead of helping him up. It likely hadn’t even crossed her mind.
So, completely in character.
After a painfully quiet silence of an hour, Aiden finally seemed satisfied. She sliced the string with whatever blade she had, letting the kite escape. It flapped in the wind, something Biscuit could do as he was led to a winding, never ending path.
They took a pause at Aiden's…abode, him standing outside awkwardly until she reappeared with clothes redder than usual. After, they went again.
Biscuit was trying very hard to block out everything, his memories blurring together until he was standing outside his home. He glanced behind him, and he was alone.
Cold gusts ruffled his fur, so he went inside.
He couldn't sleep that night.