The Silk Brick as he was known to his neighborhood pals, was actually named Fang because of his DNA’s commitment to his feline ancestors. That, and his previous owner thought it was fitting. He did indeed have fangs. Fang was silky, black, long, muscular, and lean. His newfound homelessness brought him bouts of despair and hunger, but physically he was built for adversity. Fang roamed the streets and found his way. He hunted, made some friends, slept in the sun, and thought of the home he walked away from some months ago. Freedom wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Sometimes the bad outweighed the good, and other times days would pass before he’d think of his old life. Generally speaking, he was happy. Lonely, but in good spirits.
Parked outside his favorite breakfast joint, Fang waited patiently for the restaurant's porter to take out last night's trash. He’d made friends with the old man and especially liked cheeseburgers. A cold, day-old burger and pat on the head always started the morning off right. He spruced himself up to look presentable, starting with slicking up a paw and rolling it over and over through his face and ears. Settling in on his haunches and pushing out his chest, his regalness could not be denied. The porter exited the back door rolling a cart full of plastic trash bins and headed for the dumpster. Fang sat patiently in the dirt parking lot and waited to be fed. The crashing of the broken beer bottles hitting the floor of the metal dumpster startled Fang and he crouched low, pinned his ears back, and ran to safety under a nearby parked car. The porter pushed his cart back inside the restaurant and missed him. Fang snorted.
Emerging from his safe haven, he walked out and sat back down on the dirt. Paws forward and wrapping his tail around himself, he waited for the morning sun to heat up his black, oily fur. Watching his breakfast denial, was a little Siamese cat. She had the bluest almond shaped eyes, a tail almost as long as his, and a charcoal tinted face against her cream-colored body. She was spectacular. She didn’t look like she was a stray like himself. She crouched and watched him. Fang froze when she started toward him. Perched on a cement parking block, she catapulted off and sprinted directly for him. He readied himself for whatever this tiny thing was about to do when she flung herself into the airspace above him. He heard her delicately land in the dirt and turned his head to find a very wounded sparrow tightly trapped in her petite mouth. Fluttering and shrieking, she tried desperately to control the thing with her paws, scratching and clawing with her hind legs. Fang teamed up and with another bite to its chest, the deed was done. Her name was Meno.
They sat across from each other and picked the bird apart. Meno’s blue eyes and Fang’s emerald-green glanced at each other, and quickly looked away. Both of their hearts were pounding. Fang couldn't tell if it was because of the events that transpired, or the ringing in his ears and his boiling stomach were to blame. He was far larger than her. But, she left a giant impression on him. Fearless. Beautiful. He had never encountered such a presence.
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