//------------------------------//
// The Man-Cat, Twenty-Four Hours Old 
// Story: Felanthroid 
// by Zytharros 
//------------------------------//

So that was yesterday.

I awake this morning with two distinct senses - one of grumpiness, another of pain. I roll myself into a ball and proceed to look myself over. Two bites per flank, some straw and quite a bit of dirt mar an otherwise pristine white coat. I groan and close my eyes. Five more minutes, please...

A snort shocks me awake.

"You okay, child?"

Holly. The gentle beta.

"Leave him. He ain't got no food for us."

Chix. The alpha gelding.

"Ain't no reason for us to be mean, Chixy," the brown quarter horse says. "Looks like this poor cat got caught in a nasty scrap. She don't need any of your snippety attitude."

I glance between the pair. Chix huffs, then shoves his nose into his grain.

Grain. Mom-in-law has been here already. That means it's late morning at the earliest. What's the time, anyway?

"You've gotta be hungry, child."

I jump again and look at the brown one. I blush and nod, unable to say much otherwise.

"Well, come here. Let's get you some grain."

I nod and make my way over. The horse, thirteen-and-a-half hands at the shoulder, smiles and tips over some of her grain. I take a couple tentative licks of the foodstuff and grimaced.

Opal, I know you don't like it, but we need to eat something.

I know, Z, but it's just too damn sweet. 

I chuckle and take a bit in my mouth. A river of caramel washes over my tongue, coupled with some salty, cruchy, dry grass matter. I choke it down, hacking and coughing for the first few bites, but eventually I get enough in me to satiate my stomach until I can make it back to the food dish.

I sit back and rub my mouth with a paw. "Thank you."

"No problem, child," Holly says. "It's only polite."

"I didn't know horses knew of politeness. I thought you only thought about food and water," I say.

She laughs. "Darlin', you don't get far with humans by bein' all bossy. You gotta get in nice with the hand that feeds you. Otherwise you'll be flipped faster than flyin' toast on a fryin' pan."

I nod, thinking that the explanation makes sense, when a thought occurs to me. I turn to her. "How do you know of frying pans?"

"I'm the daughter of a prize-winning show horse named Katie," she stated in a matter-of-fact way. "She told me stories of her trophies and accomplishments."

She should see my trophy wall at home.

Opal! Be serious here.

Holly continues speaking around these thoughts.

"She would tell me of all her trophies, all the things she did, the shows she was a part of... and then she would go into all that Dad was a part of before he went lame."

"Do. NOT. Tell him."

A stern warning from Chix across the barn stalls Holly for a while before I chuckle.

"Don't worry. Grandpa has already told me of your adventures," I say. "It's nothing I haven't heard before."

"Still don't want to talk 'bout it."

"Okay, that's fine. I'm good for when you want to tell me."

Chix snorts. "Damn humans, tellin' other humans about what we do..." The rest of his words are lost to a mouthful of grain and a grunt that could also have been a fart.

Holly's eyes went wide. "You're a cat, child. Not a human."

"He's both cat and human. It's plain as day." Chix snorts. "Blind as a co..."

Holly's eyes derp for a second, something that gives me pause for thought as to how a real horse could do the Derpy. Her eyes return to normal and she sighs. "Chix, I don't know what hay you've been munchin', but that there's a cat. Ain't no human about him."

"Same hay as you, kid, and what I see there is both man and cat. They've been magicked together by a power that should make you wet your withers," Chix insists.

"J-just hold the holy hubris on here. How in the twelve hours of the afternoon do you know of these things?" I demand. "What are you, a psychic horse?"

He shot a look right at me. "First thing that gave me the hint was you passed our damn paddock with that plastic thing all humans seem to carry nowadays. That was a damn big thing for a cat to chase after. Second, you look like you stepped off the freak bus. I mean, how many cats do you know who have a... how do you say it... drawn body shape? Not too many. Third, and this was the bucker, you tried fighting a ferret as a cat. Felines worldwide fear ferrets. You stupidly battled one head on. You're braver than a cat." He snorted. "I'll bet my gray flank that I can guess exactly who you are."

I nodded. "Probably. I'm the only male on this property that comes over and talks to Holly frequently."

"Yup. I don't approve of cross-species relationships," Chix declared. "They're unnatural and wrong. Don't you be makin' any moves on my daughter."

I sputtered. "Jai n'interresant pas son fille! I'm married!"

Chix whinnied. "I know how you look at her!"

Holly neighed, a full-bellied, loud neigh. "Dad! Cat! Stop this! Please!"

I hissed. "I... just... ugh... I-I... shut up!"

"What, no retorts? No comebacks?" Chix laughed. "Get over yourself, stud. I know stallions. Stop before I make you stop."

My head droops. Yesterday was hell. I didn't need today to be that way as well. So I decided something.

"I will talk with whoever I please," I state. "If you want to stop me, then try me."

"Very well."

Chix whistles. The barn goes silent. I get a bad feeling in my gut.

"Get out of here."

I look at the horse I could call an ally. "Get out of here now. He's callin' that damn ferret, chld!"

I nodded to her and cut my losses. I wasn't about to become ferret lunch again..
So I disappeared down into a pig pit to await my potential pursuer's passing.

I wasn't going anywhere near that bloody ferret again.