@strayxiii
Stray cats are a staple of city life. Chlomaki often sees the hardy little creatures disappearing down alleyways, drains, under cars from the corner of her eye. She likes them, perhaps a little arrogantly. She wonders if they, too, were torn from their own worlds, or more likely the descendants of those who were.
Dressed in black from head to toe, long tail and pointed black ears to match, Chlomaki is conspicuous on the street. By coincidence, Train will find her walking beside him, humming softly. She’s hard to miss, but gives Train no acknowledgement that she sees him as she falls into step beside him.
As they approach a side street, one of the city’s felines darts into their path, pauses, and surveys the two with tail held high. Strangely bold for a stray. The cat is pitch black, as black as Chlomaki’s hat. Chlomaki pauses, holding the animal’s gaze.
“Hah.”
The animal blinks, turns, and dashes down another alley. Chlomaki smiles, with a sidelong glance at her fellow pedestrian.
“Are you superstitious?”