Tinsel, No!
@Brookline Quinn | Word Count: 415 | Date: Nov 1
Charlotte walked down to the grounds, wind blowing in her hair, and her cat in her arms. She'd brought Tinsel to the grounds to get some fresh air. Tinsel had been stuck in her room all day, and while Charlotte had never took care of a cat before, she didn't expect him to hiss and swipe her ankle. Was he upset because she left him in the room all day? Or was he just startled? Charlotte decided to bring him to the grounds to get some fresh air after lunch. Hopefully he'd calm down. It was a nice day to be out and Tinsel seemed to be enjoying it.
She settled herself in a nice spot, just beneath a tree. Maybe she'd read a book while Tinsel could sniff things or whatever. She set Tinsel down on the ground. Tinsel sniffed the ground, his nose pushing aside the flowers and pine needles. She smiled. He looked so silly doing that, and Charlotte relaxed a bit. She opened her book to the page she was reading. Only after a few minutes Tinsel stood up, and started sniffing the air. He froze.
Charlotte knew what he was doing. She set her book down on her lap. "Tinsel. . ." she said slowly. She crossed her fingers, hoping he wouldn't do it. Too late. He bolted and ran. "Tinsel, no!" Charlotte yelled. "Tinsel, come back! "
She knew he wouldn't come back on his own, so she jumped up from her spot, shoving her book into the bag, and ran after him. The leaves crunched under her boots and the wind messed up her braid. She chased him a long way, dodging the trees, and trying not to step on the wild flowers. Her heart was beating wildly. She couldn't catch up. Her legs were tired and she was exhausted. He was just too fast. Or maybe she was just too slow."Tinsel, no!" Charlotte couldn't go any longer. Breathing hard, she sat down on the ground, not believing what had just happened. Why, oh why, had he run away?
What if she never found him again? Or someone did find him and kidnapped— no, catnapped him. She put her worries aside. Worrying wasn't gonna help at all. She stood back up, after all, the longer she sat, the farther Tinsel got. Where did that cat go? She sighed, worried and frustrated. That cat was really something.
Last edited by Kaitlyn Connor on 4 Nov 2025, 17:26, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: Changed topic type to an RP :) Have fun!
Sometimes people say they want to disappear when all they really want is to be found
Tinsel, No!
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─────────────── xxx 𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑬𝑳, 𝑵𝑶! xxx ──────────────── |
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| x | mentions ; @Charlotte Evergreen | 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓯𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓭. |
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XXXXX𝕭rookline glanced up from her novel, her tangled hair brushing in her face. Reaching up to scratch the pale bridge of her nose, her gaze volleyed from the corner of her dorm room to Tigeress's warm bed.
Tigeresss lifted her sleepy, heavy eyes just as Brookline glazed at the kitten, and the graceful kitten stretched, arching her wriggly spine. At least now, the Quinn knew where her beloved pet was at. She set the dog-earred paperback down on her acheing thigh, and ran lean fingers through filty, brunnete tresses. Two fingers would twist together a matted lock of hair and her misshapened, revolting nails caught on ratty messes and dust balls which were from her bed, which were from being disgustingly unkempt.
Did she care? Nope. Brookline did not give single ounce for her hair as her curls went from luxurious, pulchritudinous and quite so velvety tresses that just rolled beautifully off her back to this knotty and greasy, tangled hair that seemed to never cooperate with their owner. Swift fingers would weave a single, traditional, characterless braid. No more French, no more Dutch, no more Waterfall, and no more Fishtail braids.
Streching her arms above her in a ring, Brookline yawned, grabbing her sweater and hair bubble. With the hair bubble she finshed the messy, yet fittable braid and with the sweater she pulled over her scrawny arms. She sighed, as she grabbed her sachel and paperback, her legs taking control as the control center in her cranium ducked back, letting someone else take charge for a little bit. Of course it did.
Brookline stepped out of her dorm room, ducking just a second to usher Tigeress out the door and off they went. Down the stairs, and out the ancient castle's double doors. She hugged her satchel close to her ribs, and her drooping, melancholic, dull-blue eyes watched as Tigeress frolic around in the grass, the feline pouncing on a daffodil here and there.
A oddly large yellow flower laid between Brookline's reading tree, and Tigeress. The kitten animately wriggled her tiny haunches and mrrowed loudly. Tigeress leapfrogged on the plant, and her sharp, pocket-size claws raking up the pulpy, flaxen-coloured petals and the glabrous leafs of the daffodil. The shrill, victorious yowl of Tigeress sounded in the young Quinn's gentle ears.
As Brooklime sighed, she flipped to her well-worn novel, her humor now bottled up and disappeared well inside her. Old Brookline would have giggled at her silly kitty, and the kitten would have purred, and slinked up to Brookline to get some "good girl" pets. New Brookline barley acknowledged it.
As she continued to read, some time had passed, and when Brookline's head popped up, she noticed another small presence. Another kitten purred and skittered and slipped around Tigeress, it's grey stripes dancing vibrantly the cool Novmever air. Brookline furrowed her eyebrows and pondered on how another tabby had came to play with Tigeress.
Well, I guess a lot of kittens likes to play with other cats, Brookline thought, her fingers fiddling with the page of her worn paperback.
"Hey, cutie," The Ravenclaw girl set her book neatly in the grass, making various kissy noises, like her mother used to do when a squirrel was caught in a trap or a tree when Brookline was younger. "C'mere, little one. Are you a stray or..?"
The other cat carefully approached her, with Tigeress stalking quietly behind the tabby. "Good, good. It's okay, kitty. I'm nice. C'mere." The kitten slinked up to her, staying a cautious amount back as it craned it's salmon-pink nose, and Brookline held up an attentive and headful palm for the kitten to smell.
"Mrrow!" The unknown kitten mewed as it rubbed it's head on Brookline's knuckle. "Hello, pretty kitty. Are you a boy?" Tje Ravenclaw asked and the cat trilled, it's purr vibrating like a engine of a Muggle vehicle. Brookline giggled, a sharp, raw and low titter as she rubbed the kitten's tickling, humming, hoary gullet.
I wonder who is the owner of this sweet cat? Brookline wondered, I hope they're a nice person. She remember when she lost Tigeress in second year and a first year found her. Now the roles were switched and she had found the second half of a young girl or boy. Brookline stood up, brushing away dust and dirt of her pleated skirt, and shoved the dog-earred book in her satchel, most likely ruining with the ancient, falling-apart paperback with a 99.999% probability.
Brookline clicked her tongue, and waited for both kittens to follow her. "Hey...! Pretty good. C'mon, kittens!" She glanced behind her shoulder, double checking. Her gaze volleyed from the Great Lake to the castle doors. Did the unknown kitten sneak past her when she opened the doors? Or has this fellow been outside for a while?
As she trod around, Brookline fidgeted with her fingertips, the little soft paw-steps and the occasional meow caused her to feel a little less nervous. She hoped she'd find the owner of this pretty cat soon.
[ coded by elena clark ]
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sorry for the late response!:'(
Last edited by Brookline Quinn on 30 Jan 2026, 17:39, edited 1 time in total.
Tinsel, No!
@Brookline Quinn | Word Count: 415 | Date: Nov 1
Charlotte cursed under her breath as her grey cat was nowhere to be seen. She'd been walking around, and there were no signs of where Tinsel could be. She wondered where he could be. Was he even still here on the grounds? She picked back up her bag that she'd dropped in the commotion of chasing Tinsel. Brushing off the pine needle that stuck to the bag, she slung it over her shoulder and continued looking for the little rascal. I guess this is what i get for leaving him in the room so long. Still, when Charlotte decided to adopt a cat, she didn't think it would mean loosing him, and having to look for him.
What type of cat purposely ran away from their owners? She just wanted Tinsel back. Charlotte was getting worried, and there weren't any traces of her cat anywhere. She wasn't sure what she was even looking for. A footprint? Broken branches? She had never lost a pet before. Until now. She sighed again, and wondered where Tinsel could possibly be. Kicking a small, grey rock, she considered going back to the castle and looking for him the next day. She had no idea where Tinsel was, and she was pretty sure that walking around wouldn't get her anywhere. She brushed away her bangs. There no reason to panic. Tinsel was gonna be fine, right? Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a tuft of light grey fur stuck onto a stick on the ground. Charlotte rushed to the spot and knelt down to pick it up.
Was that. . . Tinsel's fur? It looked to be the same shade as Tinsel's but Charlotte wasn't completely sure. She stood back up, and looked at the fur through the sunlight, trying to figure it out. It could be anything. Still, that fur was all Charlotte had, so she assumed that it was probably his. But even if it was his fur, that didn't mean anything. It was exactly as it looked. Fur on a stick. It didn't tell her to walk left, or right, and straight, or backwards. It didn't tell her where Tinsel was. It just showed that he was here. She felt hopeless at that moment, and she felt her heart sink lower and lower, and felt like crumbling to the ground and crying. She felt like an idiot. Loosing her cat, and now about to cry on the ground.
Still, she could see her cat's face in her mind, and despite the grief Tinsel had given her the day before, she wanted him back and was determined to find him, no matter how long it would take. Her braid was completely messed up, so she pulled out her hair tie and stuck it in her bag. She knew she looked like a mess right now, with her pants soiled and her hair a wild mess. Charlotte continued walking, hoping she'd find Tinsel sleeping under a tree or something. After what seemed like an entire eternity, Charlotte spied another girl, perhaps a year older than her, with another cat walking around. They were a bit far away so she started walking towards them.
There were many trees that had blocked her view, so she couldn't see much past all those trees. But she wondered if they had seen Tinsel. Maybe they ran into him and could offer her some information about his whereabouts. I really hope they've seen Tin— wait a minute. . . that is Tinsel! A small grey cat was looming behind the girl, and Charlotte had completely missed them, due the large trees blocking her view. Happiness flooded her body and she felt relieved. Tinsel looked tired, and well, he also looked annoyed. She was surprised he was following the girl. But before Charlotte could say or do anything, Tinsel held up his claw, just like when he was about to swipe her ankle.
For the second time that day, Charlotte yelled, "Tinsel, no!" But it was too late, she watched as Tinsel scratched the girl's cat. Oh my gosh. Charlotte ran to them as fast as she could, hoping she'd be able to fix everything somehow.
Sometimes people say they want to disappear when all they really want is to be found
Tinsel, No!
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─────────────── xxx 𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑬𝑳, 𝑵𝑶! xxx ──────────────── |
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| x | mentions ; @Charlotte Evergreen | 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓯𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓭. |
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XXXXX𝕭rookline was engrossed. Engrossed into this book, that she was surprised when she found this little kitten tumbling around her own pet. She kept her distance, but held out a small palm, just so the grey tabby could sniff. Who knows how this cat could react? Ever since she was young, Brookline was taught to think before she would act. And it seemed to work out for her, most of the time.
The feline reached out to smell her fair fingers, and Brookline’s gaze trailed to the tabby’s adorable, tiny nose. It was pink, and the kitten seemed no older than Tigeress, it’s grey tabby coat dappled with dark stripes. As a furry cheek rubbed against her finger, a raw giggle from Brookline escaped. So, this tabby had silky, soft fur. She tickled the kitten with her pointed finger, than stood up, careful to not crease her knee-length boots. Brookline would kill herself if her shoes got ruined or creased. While she could clean her shoes off with her wand, she could not fix creasing.
Fluffing out her skirt, she took a peek at the two cats in front of her. Now they were playing. Great, this is now going to take forever, Brookline thought, and threw her book inside her satchel. Paperbacks always got destroyed in her hands, and not because she took deliberate measures to annihilate her beloved tombs; they got read daily and Brookline can be quite careless where she puts her belongings at. Another glance at the graceful felines. The grey tabby was swishing his long tail, and Tigeress had a frisky glint in her green eyes. This better be easy.
For a second, Brookline wondered how she would get two kittens back to the castle, all by herself. She certainly couldn’t carry one and expect the other to follow, nor could she walk behind, or that’ll take til night-fall. Anyway, that grey kitten probably wouldn’t let the Ravenclaw pick it up. For one, she was a stranger, and two, if this cat did, in fact, have a owner, how the heck would they react to someone else transporting their pet? She didn’t know. So, the Welsh girl clicked her tongue. In books, horses riders clicked, and tap the horses’ soft belly with their boots, and the horse would continue. Would it have the same result with cats? They were quite different animals, so Brookline wasn’t sure. Although, with another tchik of the third year’s tongue, the cats tottered behind her, still playing with one another.
The grey kitten meowed, and it earned an mew from Tigeress. Although with a cluck from the young Quinn, halted the cats’ swift conversation, and they hurried on. She turned over her shoulder, to see how the kittens were doing. Tigeress seemed happy in another cat’s company, yet the tabby looked a tad bit exhausted, and it had it’s tail in the air, flickering softly. Shit! Now, they had to hurry quicker.
Merlin, the tabby’s owner could be freaking out right now, like, she, herself did, earlier that year. Now, Brookline was determined to keep Tigeress in the dorm, or in her meticulous gaze at all times. Only because you could lose one thing and find it, yet, the next time you misplace it, you may have zero chance of seeing it ever again. At least, that’s what the third year thought.
Soon, closer, yet, still a a while away from a castle, when a dark-haired student walked her way towards her. Brookline felt her spirits raise. Of course this girl had to be the owner of the grey tabby. Of course! Ready to stretch her hand out in a wave, and call a greeting over to the underclassmen, when horror overtook the girl’s pure ivory face. Honesty, the underclassmen looked like a mess, a bit like when Brookline was at her lowest. She lowered her hand, and narrowed her eyebrows just as the girl cried out.
“Tinsel, no!”
Tinsel? Who the hell is Tinsel? Brookline kept her puzzled gaze when the girl started to sprint towards her and that’s when she heard Tigeress yowl, and the young girl’s head whipped around to the two kittens. Tigeress had a red claw mark stretching from the top of her shoulder and down, and the cat crouched with a deadly look in her eyes, with her haunches up. Despite the crimson blood dripping down in her tabby fur, Brookline’s feline had decided to take revenge. The Welsh girl gasped, stunned. Oh my God. Why the hell does everything has to happen to me?
The grey tabby looked quite dangerous in the secluded, anti-social, and angsty Quinn’s ocean eyes, and she quickly grabbed Tigeress out of harm’s reach. A angry, peeved glint in the tabby’s feline eyes made Brookline skitter back, making sure the cat did not swipe for her own ankle, nor pounce on her. Perhaps the cat acted all friendly and nice just so it could pounce on her, make a tasty feast out of her familiar. Did cats eat their own kind, anyways? Or did they just fight each other? Why the devil are cats quite aggressive? Can’t everyone and animal be kind to each other? No, a better question was why did everything happen to her? Why couldn’t it happen to another thirteen-year-old girl across the darn world?
Why does this happen to me? Dark thoughts managed to crawl their way from the deep depths of Brookline’s brain. Can I be immune now?
Once questions finally trickled out in her mind, Brookline finally realized that she had a cat in arms, squirming around. No doubt that Brookline find out later that feline blood had dried on her arms. She’ll probably reek of the ruby-red crap for days. A hand went to stroke Tigeress’ on the cheek. Her beloved kitten, scratched and betrayed.
“Hold still, Tigeress. Are you okay?” Despite her calm voice, Brookline was freaking out. She tried to feel some other emotion other than fear, and she was close to a full-on panic attack. She turned to the girl who had ran all the over to her. The underclassmen’s long, black hair was all over the place, and she looked like one of those new mothers who’d stayed up all night, and didn’t have a fat coffee cup glued to their hands.
In the coolest, polite voice she could ever muster, Brookline nodded to the young girl. “This is your wayward pet, I presume? I only hope you train him or her after this encounter.” Then she went back to stroking her feline, hoping to comfort her poor, injured kitten.
[ coded by elena clark ]
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i apologize for another late reply !!