Jinx followed Storm and Silver back to the alley where the cats often met in winter. There, waiting, were the other ferals: Winter, with her gray-white fur, Burn, with her orange fur striped dark on her back, and Splash,  with his long-furred maine coon. The others weren't out, their owners won't let them out in such cold the others had to face.

     Good thing, for Eagle, she thought. Not that Strike and Leap don't deserve it, but they are grown cats. The black she-cat sighed at the sight of half of their "pack" in their warm homes. I wish everyone would find owners, but being free is so... free. 

     Jinx finally decided to broach the subject she, Storm, and Silver had discussed. The myths of cats, good and bad.

     Winter sat there, her quiet eyes always riveted on the center of attention--which in this case was Jinx--with Splash next to her, offering his warmth, and Burn, sitting just a tiny bit away from the two cats. Though she and Splash spoke, they soon realized something was up with the two cats flanking the small black cat.

     "We were thinking," Jinx began, thinking of her own curse, "of the myths that plague cats. Both the good and the bad. So, with only little more than half of us here, I decided that we each take up one myth to try to solve and dissolve. I myself am the only one for the black cat myth, but what other myths have we heard of?"

     Winter stood up, a shiver barely touching her as she moved from Splash's warmth. "I know that white cats are bad luck at night, if they cross your path. Seeing as I'm nearly white, and the only one so close..."

     Burn nodded, as did Jinx. With her bold attitude, she suggested, "Many dog-loving humans think that we 'wag' our tails when we are happy, when really it is a twitch or flick of irritation. I will take that one." 

     Jinx nodded again to this. She was expecting Splash to take up the next one, his choice fairly obvious, when Storm spoke up. "I will take the whisker superstition, that we are useless without them."

     "What about the bad ones, that prove good, Jinx?" came Splash's question. "What about the nine lives, and that we all land on our feet no matter what? A cat can get hurt, or die, due to those if they should prove them wrong."

     Through sad eyes, Jinx acknowledged the concern. "I know," she said, quietly. "They would have to bring it up and take the mantle on their own. No one can force them to do that."

     "I will take the water myth," Splash continued. "No other of you like the water." A lopsided smile crossed his lips, showing his fangs. The irony, how none would take that one but the maine coon. One of the few cat breeds that like the water naturally.

     "We need to ask about the domesticated cats of us, then still. Leap, Strike, and Eagle. Oh, little Eagle. I hope he doesn't take a hard one, or that one doesn't chose him cruelly..." Winter trailed off. She was the foster mother, almost, of the young tom calico, and loved him as if she bore him herself.

     "Then we, the feral cats, are in agreement? We shall break the myths around our kind." Jinx looked at the small group around her. When her eyes landed on them, they each nodded in turn. They were just as fed up with this as she was, possibly. "Alright, was start tomorrow, and spread the word to our friends."

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Yay! A new chapter? Without a schedule, who knew that would happen?

I'm just kidding. This was nice to write. I like the short chapters I can do in one sitting.

Well, enjoy this, friends! Don't forget to check out my other books, too!