You’re on a hillside, houses next to each other like stacked boxes or something like that. An industrial estate, lots of warehouses.
And a lot of delicious fluffy. As soon as they see you, most scatter. Some would be in your way, but one swipe and they’d flee, bleeding, and some would attack, but barely scratch you.
But they wear you out.
You reach the edge of the concrete and look down at the stepped block. In the gutter a pile of fluffy pushes a fattened up one.
“Fas-tuuh… Smah-teeh… Wan… wawa dwink…” the fat fluffy rattles.
You land almost soundlessly on the tin roof.
“Smawty? Whad dat?”
“Meow… Munstah! Toughee… kiww… but… ding!”
Three nearly with you one size fluffy attacks, two unicorns and an earthy rans on you… and the broken horn wounds you. Without a care you claw out its eyes and rip out the throat of another. The horde scatters, and leaving the two corpses behind, you walk towards the big fat fluffy. You’re drooling. He’d scream, but his fat throat can’t take it.
You feast like a queen.
It is cold and you are moving slowly but surely. You pass through a gap in a fence and see five or so dead fluffies, lying in the garden, torn to pieces. Lights are on in the house and you creep closer to the basement window. You fall in.
A man walks among a pile of cages, picks up some fluffy ones and puts them in a box. He says something, but you can’t hear him. The man walks out of your line of sight.
You hear footsteps near the door and run across the garden. Tipping the box over, the man yells something, but you don’t know what the human words are.
“Fwuffy fwee?”
“Cume babbehs mummah lead”
“Stoopid dummeh this am smawty hewd!”
You take yourself out of the bush and throw yourself on the fluffy.
“EEEEK! MUNSTAH!”
“Smawty help!”
“Nuuuuuuuu!”
You finish them off and, clutching the carcass of one between your teeth, you go to the house, scratching at the door. The man looks out. You drop the body and squeal happily. The door closes, then opens again. You’re about to walk in, but a big, growling dog is watching you.
The man growls, and the dog lunges at you, clawing, biting, tearing, then running. The man gurgles.
He laughs at you, then releases the dog and you run for the fence. The dog stops only for a moment: to tear up one of the fluffy things that was in his way.
You’re on your own again. What now, stray?
Translated with DeepL Translate: The world's most accurate translator (free version)
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