You sat on the sofa, rubbing at your face and sniffing pitifully – confused by the salty tears you were crying and trying not to hiss as Russia took some hot water on a towel and washed at your scraped knee. It was only a little scrape but you were not used to getting cuts and it really stung – each time you gave out a little mewl of upset, he patted your shoulder and you sucked back the upset. He had got you to sit down on the sofa properly to clean your knee and England had at least got you to put on a pair of knickers and a shirt. You felt slightly trapped in the clothes though – like you had when you’d had a cut on your leg before and Russia had made you wear that stupid cone.
“Ouch! Master it really hurts! Why won’t you let me lick it?” You groaned in annoyance, rubbing at your odd feeling ears with the back of your hand; almost punching yourself. You looked at your hands, stretched out your fingers and then tried to stretch more, wondering why your nails did not extend. Russia had finished cleaning your little graze and now stared at you in confusion as you growled at your own hands. “Maybe my nails are blocked with dirt; I’ll like them clean… Though I still don’t understand why I can’t lifted my leg right up and clean it with my tongue either.”
“Because you’re human and humans don’t lick themselves.” Russia muttered nervously, his face slightly odd as if he could not believe what you had just suggested. In his mind he could only see the slightly exciting but also creepy image of a woman lifting her leg up as straight as a doll. You sensed his anxiety and then licked his nose, making him jump in surprise and brush heavily. Russia stood up and turned around, feeling his stomach churning with confusion. “To keep clean, humans have showers and baths because we’re not that flexible.”
“A bath? Oh… well if that’s why humans do it… ugh… my tongue’s not even long enough to do the work. But I don’t trust water.” You groaned in annoyance, still remembering sitting in the sink once and trying to claw Estonia’s face up when he’d put flea shampoo on you to help Mr Russia out. You sighed in regret; some parts of being human were difficult. One minute you could run around on impulse and do anything, the next the weight of shape of this body caught up with you and you had an accident. “Am I a bad human?”
“You’re not doing too badly as a human, it could be worse.” England called over his shoulder as he strolled past. You naturally pouted at him and give a little hissing sound, only to accidentally spit in Russia’s face. He looked slightly annoyed but when you licked his cheek again he leapt away from you and seemed to want to avoid contact. Then suddenly England flicked on the television and you saw something exciting.
“Oh my God bird!” You leapt forward toward the image on the screen, only to fall onto your knees and bash your chest on the floor. You sat up and groped yourself for a second, complaining against about the annoyance of having teats at the front. Then you shuffled on all fours with your but high in the air and then slapped yourself against the TV screen.
You whacked it with your hands and gave a little yelp of surprise at the funny noise it made, though you were excited that the bird had not seemed to notice you. The other two stared blankly at you; unsure what to do as they’ve been lucky to get you dressed but are still being treated to the view of your perfect little bottom. They began to sweat anxiously as you continued to slap the screen. “How did it get in there? Can I get it out? How come it doesn’t work like a window… why is it like a small box but in the middle here it looks like there are massive places to go within?”
“Uh… those birds aren’t trapped inside the box… they’re being pictured from elsewhere.” Russia tried to explain, gently strolling to your side and pushing you away from the screen. You tried to shuffle along again on all fours, but Russia felt so awkward he grabbed your elbow and pulled you back onto your feet again. You were startled but his words had confused you more.
“Picture?” You questioned, confused what he could mean but then England strolled over with a strange object in his hand. You looked into it and saw a pretty human staring back at you with big ____ eyes and _____ hair. She looked slightly familiar but you were quite confused.
“This is a mirror… you can see what you look like…” Russia began but then almost fainted as you started to get excited.
“Whose she? Why’s she waving at me? Is she your friend? Can I rub around her legs? Why can’t I smell her? How’d she get in that window? Can she hear me? Hello stranger!” You chirped as you slapped at the mirror, making England wince. He immediately pulled it away from you, but you grabbed at it again, pouting and making him growl in annoyance.
“Oh dear… this is going to take some time. That was what you look like at the moment so stop over-reacting… you can identify yourself in a pond half the time so why not in a mirror? God you animals are so strange!” England growled as you pushed at him to get the item, knocking him back into a giant jukebox that flashed bright lights and made you squeak in surprise. Suddenly your ears began to flick, though somehow you couldn’t get them to move to it, as a piece of music started to float to you. It was not exactly the kind of screeching you usually heard from the tomcats, but you could tell the message was certainly some male singing to a female.
“What is that handsome noise? Its more handsome then any of the caterwauling I’ve had before. Normally it’s just some uncouth series of innuendos that sound like we’re doing stuff already. But this sound like a tom who’s really interested in being just around me for a little while after and not chasing me around!” You grinned in delight, thinking of all the times you’d outwitted the prowling tomcats by running into the house and rubbing against your master’s legs instead.
“That’s just some of America’s stuff that he left behind. Ghastly stuff really!” England snorted in annoyance as he stared at the rock and roll records within. He could not understand why you were getting so excited again, but he was glad that you were not bothered by your knee now. He was admittedly also a little excited about seeing a girl in just panties and a shirt hopping around in his living room.
“Do you like it ______? I mean… when the tomcats come after you. To be honest, I had not thought that you’d have experienced having boyfriends before.” Russia muttered nervously, his expression pensive and almost worrying. He could only imagine the rather violent manner in which cat mating took place, but humans could not understand it the way that cats did. So you stared at him for a second, unsure of how to respond, but eager to try and rub around him to reassure him. So you stepped over and spun around in front of him, almost falling over.
“Yes – but it’s always nice when boys sing for me… except they always want the same thing and it gets boring. I mean… I’m not a virgin, I lost that when I was six months old and I’ve had a litter of kittens before too… but humans like kittens more then older cats so my babies got good homes quickly. It upset me too with my first guy… because he was the typical roaming tom who knew how to charm the ladies and beat all the other guys up but he did not want to hang around or even see his kids. It was embarrassing, but back then I had my mum around to help me out with my kittens. It wasn’t too bad then I suppose… just wish they’d cuddle with me more rather then just mate then beat some other tom up before coming to mate again.” You sighed gently, before turning around and gently spinning in a slower circle so you did not fall over. “But the singing is always the best part… some guys have just got such wonderful voices.”
“Maybe I’ll sing for you later….” Russia chuckled warmly as you grinned viciously at him. But then something happened, whilst you tried to move a little more elaborately to the tune your body seemed to fall to one side again. It was a sensation similar to whenever Russia would have tossed you playfully in the air just a little too hard and you were startled. The dizziness was much more acute in human bodies and you found yourself lunging forward to grab Russia’s chest. For a moment you and he were staring straight into one another’s eyes, some strange sparkling sensation formed inside and you leant forward with your mouth as if on instinct and he lent in to do the same.
“Oh God… Russia in case you have forgotten, you’re talking to a cat and not a person! If you’re going to snog her then bare in mind you can get salmonella and other nasty things from cat drool!” England snorted before grabbing the spray bottle and squirting water in your face. You gave a little squeak of irritation but were not really bothered; just a little unhappy that it had given Russia a chance to run away. You looked toward England with sad eyes, why had he done that?
“Doesn’t he deserve some human affection, even if I’m only a cat?” You snapped suddenly, curious as to the strange sensation of… well it was warm and happy but also sad and painful… you did not understand it save it was similar to how you felt when someone stroked you. What on earth was this new sensation?