Hallo and thanks to my readers.
Yes I am Australian and 'yous' is used frequently in a lot of the rural areas here.
I currently am having a problem with the computer I access the internet with and have to use someone else's computer to submit chapters to this site so please be patient. More chapters are coming just a little bit more slowly.
MYGYPSY
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My mind feels as if it is stuffed with cotton wool and my eyes open reluctantly as I struggle to work out where I am, everything starts to come back to me slowly and I have to grit my teeth to prevent an outburst of anger and fear. I move my head slightly to look around and the room swims dizzily, I close my eyes and wait impatiently for my dizziness to pass.
When I am finally able to look around without feeling as if I am going to pass out or fall over I open my eyes to narrow slits and peer around the brightly lit room. Fear flutters in my stomach as I see bars on the window and the bars that make up the door. I hear someone walking close by and close my eyes feigning that I am still under the influence of the drug.
"Shouldn't she be coming around soon?" Steven asks.
"Doc said she should be coming around about now." Sam sounds solemn and I want to scream at him for allowing this to happen to me.
"Should we go away and leave her be for a while?" Steven suggests.
"That's what Doc advised. He reckons she's going to be pissed off when she comes around and I think he's right about that." I listen for regret in Sam's voice but hear none. "Damn Edwin to hell and back! Grabbing her like that was stupid!"
"A sister for you and Mitchell huh? No wonder Mitchell has been over-protective of her. I was starting to wonder how friendly he'd gotten with her," Steven says quietly.
I am silent as I listen to them move away and wonder how long before they start to worry when I show no signs of coming out of the drug. If I can get one of them to open the door ...
I doze on and off for a while all the while recovering even more from the drug. The shadows tell me it is mid afternoon when I wake fully. The dark silhouettes of the bars grate on my inner cat and the need to be able to run in cat form and forget my worries for a while is starting to get nearly unbearable. My muscles are starting to get stiff from remaining in the same position when I hear someone approaching the room once again.
"Rosy? Rosy?" I recognise Sam's voice even though it is thick and strained with worry, "Hell! She should be awake by now!"
"Go get Doc, I'll see if I can do anything for her," Micah orders. I struggle to keep my breathing even as I hear Sam hurry off and keys jingle in the lock of the door. Micah definitely is not my choice to go up against but I have no choice if I want to escape.
"Rosy! Rosy wake up! Rosy come on! Time to wake up!"
You weren't this worried when I was drugged and put in here were you? I think angrily.
"Rosy, come on baby, be all right sweetheart," His voice comes from much closer than I am expecting and I can't help opening my eyes in surprise.
I recognise the moment he realises what I am up to but I am already hurling myself off the bed in mid shift. The pain is incredible as his arms touch me and I fall to the ground, now I know why not to touch someone who is shifting - it's indescribable agony. I make it to my feet and charge Micah a second time aiming high on his chest and to one side, I sheath my claws at the last possible moment but the impact of the collision is still immense as I hit him in the upper right chest knocking him over backwards.
I hear him grunt in pain as I pick myself up and then I am running for the door. The room is part of the stone building and I bolt for the door, I am in full flight as I reach outside and lower myself towards the ground slightly as I race across the open ground. I hear shouts behind me but I am going too fast to understand what is being said, I halt near the tree line to look back towards the buildings and turn back towards the trees as I see Micah appear from the stone shed in cat form to head towards me along with three cats from the quarters where the others are in the process of shifting.
I know this is no run for pleasure as I speed into the trees and I will have to outsmart the cats behind me on their own well known home territory. Even as I run I am planning my next moves, take them far from home and loose them then sneak back and get my things ... I am one pissed off kitty and they will feel my wrath. Once I am free and clear I will return to my mountain retreat and hide there until I find another place I want to be.
I slow as I take time to regain my breath, my body has recovered from the last traces of the drug and I stop and take time to empty my bowels and bladder before furiously kicking twigs and dirt over the droppings with my back feet. I glance back and am pleased to see that there is no way they will miss my insult if they enter the clearing - I have scratched up a large area in my rage.
I turn away from the clearing and head into the bush; it is not going to be easy to loose the toms on their home territory. They know I am in good health and won't be looking for me collapsed somewhere or hiding by water. This is going to take all my acquired tricks -- werecats hunt by sight not smell so I'll take to the trees as often as possible to be above the usual field of sight. Most cats run down hill when chased, it is easier and faster -- I'll head up hill. Avoid large open spaces, stick to the shadows beneath thicker growth. And the list goes on ...
My inner cat growls as the thoughts run through my mind; her mind turns to the toms. She likes them but I picture the bars of the door and on the window. A snarl escapes us and she pushes me on, she hates cages as much as I do.
* * * * *
It is nearly a month since I was betrayed, betrayed by those I had hoped were my friends. My only solace had been when my period had turned up on time ruling out the threat of pregnancy after being served while in cat form. I look out over my valley and watch the small flock of birds wheeling over the tree tops, the crackle of leaves as something moves near by catches my attention but I look back towards the birds.
I still have my phone, still have the phone numbers but to use them was to open up the opportunity to learn the results of the blood test I knew Doc would have done. But I didn't need to hear what he has to say, there was no way they could be my brothers. As much as I want them to be and as much as I care about them as if we were related there is no way we could be, they were born werecats and I was born human. I hadn't shifted until after being attacked by the werecat as I had said.
But a tiny part of me knows it's true -- I am not a stray. The strong pull I still feel for Sam and Mitchell. My nature as a child with the always constant driving need to be out in the bush or watching small animals as they go about their daily existence.
The wind picks up and I turn my face into it closing my eyes and lifting my chin as I read the secrets it holds in its folds. Loneliness haunts me and I open my eyes to look out over the valley once again, I throw my head back and let go with a fair imitation of a dingo howl as my human throat will allow. I have difficulty imitating the cry I would give in cat form. I get to my feet and head back towards my shack, the late evening sun is casting long shadows and I shiver with the dread of the lonesome night to come.
Supper is a meal of dehydrated camp stew cooked in my fire pit with tinned peaches as desert. I sit out in the night watching the feathery clouds float across the sky; I hold my phone in my hand already attached to the machine to hide my location. I know I will call because I have been longing to ever since I got home, the bond that had formed between me and the toms was much stronger for me than I had realised when I had run from them in anger.
I look up Pete's number and press the call button as I listen I hear the ring on the other end and wait on edge for it to be answered.
"Hallo Peter speaking."
"Hi Pete it's me," I say softly.
"You okay?" Pete asks anxiously.
"You've been told I guess," I close my eyes and lean my head back against the tree.