Chococat wasted

Motel Glenn Capri 
After digging about four feet into the earth, the cat was certain that the hare was no where to be found. A simple ruse that she had fallen for. When she emerged, the black jaguar had turned into a muddy brown. She sneezed twice to clean her nose of dirt.

Her attention returned to the lack of companions.

Another deep call was made before sauntering away from the hugeass hole in the ground.

Bending at the waist and using his non-dislocated arm to hold onto a leg seemed the best thing to do as Abraham busied himself around the room. Pushing back on a losing battle was exhausting, but they didn’t need him to shift in a motel room, he owed that at least to Abraham. An arm wrapped around his waist and began walking him hurriedly out of the room, asking why Boron. The momentary distraction was nice and he tried to parse the reasoning in a way that was scaled down.

”An element that… helps prevent prostate cancer.”

The cat leaped at the other through the contact excitedly as the door was locked behind them. Leaning against Abraham, Frank let him lead without complaint as his heart raced and despair morphed into a yawning pit of fear. As long as a leg didn’t do anything he’d be ok to keep walking, but there was only so much pain he could take and then it’d be lights out… again. Nope, he needed to keep thinking externally, not internally. ”Shit, uh MSM,” he huffed in a bit of a laugh that was quickly disrupted by another tremor. ”For joint health.” That was stupid. This was so, so stupid.

Shaking became unbearable as they reached the edge of the walkway and turned the corner. Rain began to pelt on them now, resoaking his clothes without the awning above to prevent it. The sight of a darkened forest ahead made him breathe a sigh of a relief, but a quick cracking in a shoulder blade as it broke to reform had him gasping, black dancing in his vision.

A sudden wild animal call echoed from the forest again and there was a single quiet calm beat of nothing allowing Frank a reprieve and to draw in a breath. It all seemed to still and settle before the cat ripped forward with a sudden renewed ferocity. A chorus of snapping of ribs broke the silence leaving him painfully gasping. This was when he’d usually pass out and Frank wished he just would at this point. The jaguar was running the show now and no amount of flailing mattered. ”It’s coming too fast,” he gasped right as an ankle gave way, causing him to stumble momentarily. He would’ve definitely fallen forward without the grip around him.

”Dammit, I’m sor-,” he was cut off as his throat began to change with a surge and his jaw began to shift around.

Frank just wanted to drop heavily to the wet grass and he sagged dangerously in the grip on him. Any thoughts about vitamins or getting the rest of the way to the trees was put to the wayside as all that increasingly crowded his mind were visions from the jaguar, battering away human consciousness and replacing it with changing and hunting.

Abraham held on to the gross shifting pile of skin and bones and clothing masquerading as a struggling doctor beside him, offering thoughtful sounds to all the vitamin recommendations for all that he didn't want to think about his prostate.

But it wasn't long before Frank was slipping, and that meant that Abraham needed to hurry his ass up as well.

He had plans to do the... the tall scary form. The one that Asha's cat had seemed to like anyway. Hopefully the two rookie jags would have the same sort of respect.

What follow probably wasn't very nice, but Abraham was in a hurry. He was one hell of a strong fucking guy when he needed to be, and now was one of those times. Grasping Frank very fiercely by the arm with both hands, he wrenched him along, adjusting his grab as what constituted an "arm" changed and warped in his fingers.

It would take a few seconds before he somewhat unceremoniously flung the shifting, crunching, miserable blob of Former Frank just into the treeline. The fucking miserable weather and dark lighting of the motel would be on their side here, but the chance of being spotted wasn't entirely remote.

Speaking of being spotted, Abraham pushed hard into his own shift, stepping out of his shoes and struggling out of his pants. These were all the things he needed to hang on to after the shift, okay. Everything else could go.

In boxers and a swiftly stretching shirt, and also socks which were wet and gross, Abraham tumbled against the forest floor, trying to crawl just a bit further in as his arms and legs elongated strangely.

It would be a race he'd likely lose against Frank who had a head start, and boy was it fucking painful. But hopefully the other cat would recognize him for what he was, which was...

Uh, a giant half-jaguar monster thing bunny kicking the air as he shifted into life on damp dead leaves.

The bloody and muddy cat padded through the forest, sniffing at bushes that tickled her whiskers. Her paws squished the saturated earth beneath her. Lazily, she shook her pelt but the rain kept coming down. Grey billows blew out from her parted jaws with each exhale.

Another long roo was made. The cat wanted to be noisy.

She padded up to a tree and placed her forepaws on it as high as she could reach. Her body was stretched out. She dragged her claws down the trunk, leaving deep gashes in the wood before turning away from it and continuing on her stroll.

The wrench forward was barely registered, as was the flinging of his body into the treeline. He was in too much pain for his brain to really consider how any of that would feel when it was literally being torn inside out. Crumpling into himself, Frank was more cat than human at this point and as Abraham started to shift, his own went over the hill and finished at a crescendo of fur and bone. Except… this time was different and there wasn’t any kind of blacking out.

As the cat struggled to get out of the left over tatters of clothing there wasn’t outright unknowing from the human side and it was really, very alarming. Enough so that the cat’s fur bristled in surprise, trying to figure out what they should be scared about after kicking off the rest of what remained of pants and whirling about. That ball of fear that always radiated from a shift was now abating into a general unease, unsure of when he was about to lose all sense of what was going on.

Seeing nothing other than a weird smelling cat thing nearby, it watched a few beats with wide eyes as the form morphed. Sniffing at the air, it confirmed that it was the big jag friend, just not entirely jaguar yet. The name Abraham was supplied as the panther took a few slow steps forward. It wanted to mess with them, see if they could play. So with a hesitant reach, the black jaguar was just about to paw at the form when the bunny hopping legs had it recoiling quickly with a jump and yowl of surprise and wide eyes.

Rumbling in confusion, blue eyes watched the rest of the shifting into some kind of weird in-between of man and jaguar. Another roo it had heard before had the panther’s ears flicking, turning its gaze towards the trees to try to figure out where it was coming from. With a flickering tail, the cat called back before dropping its head and hesitantly making the few steps back to the weird Abraham animal that Frank realized was what had been talked about in the motel room. With a calculated paw, it then sought to paw at the face thing with a chuff. It was time to go and play, they had a friend in the woods.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

All of this hurt. Every part of him was hurting. His shirt was too tight around his neck, and he clawed at the fabric to tear it the rest of the way. A tail burst into life really, really awkwardly into what remained of his boxers, and it was all awful.

And then, as he reached some final shudder of pain, Frank's dumb cat face was in his face, and in the moment he regretted everything.

"Hi," he grunted, then felt weird as soon as he felt it. This whole shift was so weird and utterly planned, but far from the full moon's influence.

Abraham felt real... human.

Trying to roll over onto his stomach to push himself up on to giant, stupid, weird feet, he heard the sound of some other cat needing attention deeper in the forest.

Freaking rookies.

A call caused her ear to twitch and turn in its direction, but the cat was much more interested in exploring on her own. She let out a lazy roar in response, but continued on her merry way. Her tail swayed loftily behind her.

Movement overhead caused her to look up. A squirrel had jumped from one branch to another. Great round eyes stared at it for a moment, but felt no desire to try chasing after it in the trees and sauntered away.

The words that rumbled had the cat cocking its head, setting down the paw softly against the muzzle, ears full tilted forward looking like a curious kitten as much as a giant jaguar could. So this was weird, he'd no idea they could talk in this form and his cat self was gleaning what Frank knew for what those noises meant. This was so so so weird.

Watching the other get to his, uhh, more humanoid feet, the panther brushed heavily against it. No threat so far and big cat was something it'd come to know the last few full moons, so it was safe to do so. Chest rumbling ensued in a form of purring before the sound of an answering call had the cat still. Sol. With that name came Frank's own feelings from earlier, but heightened and not something he'd meant to even happen: the unease and flash of irritation at possibly being used and kept in the dark. With the weird cat attended to, the panther opened its mouth to catch a scent trail before barreling off with a lashing tail.

The cat zigzagged between the foliage. Brambles and thorns from bushes grabbed at her saturated coat. Her tongue flicked out to lick her nose.

She jogged over to an evergreen and bunched up her hind legs before jumping up into the tree. Her claws grasped its branch to climb herself up to settle on the nearest branch. It curled and groaned beneath her weight.

The panther made easy work of picking up ground, only having to turn around three times before narrowing in on a stronger scent. They'd found a few carcasses, nothing left of the meat, a giant hole, and now onto something else. Coming upon a copse of trees, the cat panted from the run, trying to figure out where the trail exactly led to next.

A couple of muddy pawsteps followed and then movement from a bough of a tree up ahead had it tilting its head. A black panther was up there upon closer inspection. Oh, so that's what she looked like. It made Frank curious as to what he looked like as well, but the cat was taking action without so much as a second thought to any of that. With a growl, it ran and bunched it's muscles in the back legs before making a full out jump towards the limb. Claws grasping the bark, they made purchase before slipping due to the weight adding to the slippery texture the rain had created. The big cat fell to the floor, catching itself on big paws before turning around and ripping up the grass, upset. It wanted to go again, but first it growled, tail lashing.

Abraham regretted mostly everything.

One cat shot off after another, and he supposed it was good at least that neither of them was out terrorizing the motel.

Just, by the sounds of it, each other.

He lumbered after them, deliberately slower. There was definitely no reason to rush.

If they started clawing each other up, maybe he'd intervene. But for now he was an oversized, weirdly shaped chaperone. That was all he really needed to be.

The cat was completely content with chilling on the branch at an awkward forty-five degree angle.

Suddenly, there was an even bigger cat growling and jumping at her! When the attacker slipped and fell, the branch decided that that moment was the perfect time to finally snap. The panther landed on her paws. Despite the heavy weight of water, her pelt was still able to bristle and puff up.

Without a moment's hesitation, the cat sprinted away with her tail between her legs and her ears pinned against her skull.

A creak and groan and the limb gave out from under the other jaguar. Before the panther could consider what to do now that the tree was no longer an issue, the other skedaddled away. Watching her go for a second, a look was shot to the Abracat thing and then it ran after.

Ears pinned against its own head, the cat tore after the other, intending to cut her off somehow as a growl came up to a full on yowl echoing in the area. Running after something brought up hunting instincts to catch and attack and Frank really didn't like where this was going.

Why were these two so damn dumb.

He was just catching up when he saw Frank go rocketing off, and irritation surged through him.

"Frank!" he snarled out, as if there was any chance in hell of that making any difference. He loped after the other male, about ready to pin him to the ground and keep him there until he shifted back.

Teapot was in straight up flight mode. Maybe it was because he was bigger than her. Stronger than her.

She wasn’t keen on finding out.

Suddenly, her galloping paws slid out from under her, causing her to slide across the ground on her belly.


Lumbering paws behind barely mattered to the cat who was zeroing in on its prey. There was more garbled noise snarled from bipedal big cat that meant nothing as it powered on with sure paws. Through the rush, the longer strides were quickly gaining on the smaller jaguar. A sudden stumble ahead and those last couple lengths were gained back quicker than originally thought. In a rush, its own back claws sank through the tangled grass and wet mud to slow its own charging, sidling up with the fallen cat.

With a growl showing teeth, a powerful forepaw with unsheathed claws came up and made the motion to sink into the back of Teapot. All Frank could do was watch in horror.

What the fuck.

What the fuck was Frank's fucking deal. The cats had always gotten along. This had felt like a reasonable idea a few minutes ago.

A vicious protective streak struck him hot, and a terrifying portion of him had the impulse to put the attacking cat down immediately.

For now, he lunged after Frank, swiping out a massive clawed hand to try to grab him by the scruff of his fucking neck like a kitten.

He would naturally miss.


The jaguar worked to gather her paws beneath her. Ears affixed to sound of galloping paws behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the large male advancing on her. Her lips twitched.

She pivoted, avoiding the male’s outstretched arm. A hiss was spat out as she reached out with unsheathed claws, swiping at his face.


A lot was happening super quickly. The clawing missed, thank god, as Teapot moved away. A whoosh above had the cat flexing down right into the hissing jaguar below's claws. What felt like white hot daggers bit into its furry cheek and down to the nose causing an immediate welling of blood and pain. Quickly, it yanked its head back and away from angry claws.

Feeling trapped, the panther wanted away from Teapot and the big cat that had tried to grab for it. Hissing in retaliation, jaws wide open to show teeth threateningly with fluffed up fur, it backed up and the nearness of the other had it swivel to the side quickly and lunge on reflex at big cat Abraham. The cat was in full control, barely a smidge of its human counterpart aware as it was blinded by anger and fear and pushed back down on any of other's sense of self.

This was a fucking mess, and Abraham was just so... exhausted.

How could every other group have so many members and not face complete disasters once a month? What was he doing so wrong? Was it it just some fucking jaguar curse?

Sol clawed Frank more kindly than he deserved, and Abraham recoiled as the attention fell onto him next.

He wished he'd never come out here. He wished he'd had his phone on silent and had stayed with Asha, curled up on the couch watching garbage TV whole he dozed and got his fucking hair petted.

Instead he was facing more injury, more strife. Two more unconscious naked idiots to drag back to some motel room and procure a sandwich for.

Which... reminded him, distantly, that he'd left the fast food he bought in the car.

Angry and weirdly hurt by all this, he recoiled from the strike at him, steadier than he'd once been on two legs.

He continued the effort in a shuffled circle, hoping to side step around behind whatever this version of Frank was, to place himself between the two idiot rookie cats. Knowing his luck, shielding Sol would probably earn him claws in the back, but at least then he'd be without guilt when he left them both here alone in the woods to wake up naked and cold.

Teapot was getting tired. First running, then hunting, then digging, then climbing (and falling), and then fighting.

She was crouched defensively. Claws curled into the ground, bracing herself. Her jaws were parted, panting heavily. White eyes unmoving from the threatening panther. Her tail twitched wildly behind her.

Lunging came up empty, but did provide the space the panther desperately wanted. Not feeling cornered anymore, it turned sharply and carefully tracked the circling cat thing with a steady gaze. Now with Abraham between it and the now crouched Teapot, the jaguar growled threateningly, tail whipping angrily as blood slipped down black damp fur.

Pacing to and fro for a bit, unsure of what to do and still really pissed off but not wanting to be cornered again, it turned its aggression towards a nearby pine. It disliked climbing trees like this since its last stint on a rainy night, but human consciousness was back and pushing enough to register that there were other things to do. It'd give them a try. So up the nearby tree it went, claws digging a bit harder into the bark than needed before reaching a satisfactory branch to lay on. Flexing claws in and out, it stared through the dark at the two other jaguars, occasionally a low growl sounding. If any came anywhere close it was going to descend on them from above with outstretched claws.

No one was killing anyone else.

Sol was behind him, tense but hopefully unharmed. He could hear her breathing, his own huffy.

Frank wanted to go pout and snarl, and that was fucking fine. Abraham could stand here all night standing guard over the cat he'd turned if he needed to.

It was cold and miserable and he didn't want to be out here first any of this, of course. But that was the story of were life.

The jaguar took some time to regain her breath. She watched the male climb into a tree. Listened to his growling.

She wanted to rest, but definitely nowhere near that one. A twitch rippled across her muscles before slowly turning to slink off. Ears focused behind her in case the black male had second thoughts.

The funky-looking jaguar had largely gone unnoticed. Putting some distance between her and the aggressive one was more important.

Blood dripping down, the jaguar rubbed at the hurt part of its face on a leg, smearing it across wet fur. It smarted and Frank internally was already hating how exactly the scenario was going to work out when they weren’t all cats. It would’ve been better to be unconscious; Frank took back every want to see what was going on just so he could unsee this shitshow. He was pretty sure, even with the lapse of time warbled here and there, that he’d attacked for sure Sol and maybe Abraham. Guilt wasn’t an emotion the cat recognized right away, assuming it was perhaps hunger. But it wasn’t going to come down with those two below staring at it to fix that particular. So, it stayed where it was, brooding in a tree, ready to become like one of those carnival claw machines if anyone was stupid enough to walk under the branch.

As Teapot made to move out, the panther’s gaze snapped steadily just on her, every step catalogued. That’s who it wanted to attack, and Frank watched in terror as it got to its paws, assuming the worst and trying to pull on reigns that didn’t even exist. The cat then proceeded to go towards the trunk, step up to its full height, and claw down with a long drawn out growl. Bark gave way like butter, leaving giant gashes in the sopping wet tree. It steadily balanced on four paws, glowering and offering a steady string of more of a similar vocalization after several roos of choice loudness.

No one paid him any mind, you know. Between them.

Abraham kept his positioning, and as Sol eventually began to move out and Frank made his fucking show, he bared his own teeth, utterly irritated.

Fucking great, all of this. So they'd just never shift together again as a group, apparently.

With deliberate effort that seemed to be largely ignored by everyone, he moved to settle into Frank's line of sight, to continue as a barrier between him and Sol's exit.

Sol would likely shift back first, and if Frank made a single fucking move on her once she was human, Abraham wasn't sure there would be much left of him or the other male when this fucking bullshit was finally done.

The loud roos caused her to twitch and hesitate for a moment. She dared to glance over her shoulder. All she saw was the back of the hybrid, blocking off the other male. Her nostrils flared as she sniffed. She recognised the spotted jaguar's scent. There was an itch to turn back, but she would much rather find a tree to fall asleep in.

She turned back and continued on. The moment she was out of sight, she pick up a gentle lope to add some more distance.

Movement from Abraham had its attention now, as did those bared teeth. Oh, that wasn’t good. Pinned ears back, the cat lowered its body before looking to the ground and falling with a soft plop. It looked at departing Sol and then back at Abraham. Crouching with tail under towards its stomach, it tried to look small and kept its mouth closed, muscles loosening in the shoulders. It knew guilt now because Frank was swimming in it. The fight was done and it’d be energy wasted to do anything else which was such a childish way of viewing this that Frank was disgusted.

A long drawn out whine was offered that ended in a sneeze. The rest of the irritation snuffed out like a candle as the point had been made and the jaguar could accept that. It stayed with its back near the tree, not wanting to get closer to confrontation, especially if the big thing was going to challenge it. Meanwhile, Frank just wanted to shift back, check in on both, and offer a million apologies. He hadn’t meant any of this. Yeah, he’d been a bit peeved, but nothing to the caliber that warranted physical harm.

Slowly, a big paw was pushed forward in the direction of both, but further movement was decided against last minute, pulling that same one back to wipe at its face. The bloody claw marks were burning and the knowledge that Frank might just have to dress them was some stupid irony. Sol wouldn’t remember, but Abraham and he would and that was torture enough. What kind of person just attacked like that? Correction, he knew exactly what: a monster did. At least he’d been the only one hurt. That was deserved.

Noise vibrated its chest more reminiscent to a pained sigh, warbled, and a gaze pooled in guilt snagged for Abraham’s as its ears continually pinned back. He was so sorry. The cat was curious of the noise they’d let out and allowed Frank some control here for once in this shitty situation. Vocalizing seemed to help relieve this ocean of whatever and all the flailing that was coming from the human so maybe it’d help. Thinking back to how Abraham had said hello, the task was obviously not impossible, but it was tricky. Concentrating, the only word that seemed to make it out was one that summed it up quite well after a few huffs in irritation at how speech sucked with a mouth like this. ”Sorry,” was rumbled, oddly strangled out, sorrow accenting the fringes that the throat hadn’t messed up. He kept his gaze on Abraham, not trusting the cat to not rush forward out of control again if Frank looked to Sol’s retreating form instead. Sorry was for all parties though.

Sol slunk off.

Abraham stayed put, watching Frank with a deep wariness.

An attack from a jaguar on an unconscious human would be a level of horror Abraham wasn't willing to subject himself to. Or Frank, for that matter, even if the new cat probably wouldn't remember.

But then he heard it, a single word, and his eyes widened some.

That ugly, animal voice. Abraham knew it from every time he'd heard his own low grumbles. There was a temptation to hiss in return.

And yet, in the end, he was Abraham. He'd turned Asha. Clawed her in the face later.

"Sit still and I'll clean your face."

He made no move to approach just yet.

The panther ran until she was certain she wasn't being pursued any more. When she came to a halt, her muscles were rigid. Her head was lifted high, looking behind her. Ears erect, listening for the sound of approaching paws.

There was none.

Her tongue darted out to lick her nose. She shook out her wet pelt, allowing her body to relax a little. The cat padded over to the nearest tree. Rather than climbing up its trunk, she plopped herself down at its base. She curled up her body, resting her head on her crossed forelegs. A yawn was released before her eyes sealed shut.

Her ears continued to flick for a few more minutes. Too alert to fall asleep just yet.

It wouldn't be long until slumber finally washed over her.

Abraham’s messed up voice answered and ears flicked forward to listen, titling his head to hear it correctly. What that meant exactly was a question in return, but Frank knew and urged the cat to calm down. They’d be fine. How exactly a bipedal thing would carry out the task was a question in and of itself, but the cat was more than eager for some help in relieving the burning.

A nod was all that could be managed to be made in answer to say they understood before Frank’s little control was batted away. The cat stared wide eyed at the other, blinking back, claws sliding out to eat into the mossy wet ground. It could be still, but was worried and so stayed low.

Abraham somewhat stealed himself for some claws in the face. For showing up to work with marks again and trying to avoid Sephi for the sake of his own shame.

Or maybe this would go okay, and one single part of this entire experience could go down as successful.

He advanced hunched, front paw hand things occasionally reaching the ground into a more four-legged stance. But he didn't have much ground to cover, and he looked at Frank's scrapes as his nose twitched for the scent of blood.

Abraham was undoubtedly hungry, but the chance of any animal remaining within five miles was slim. This would be a short shift and a tiring one, and he took no pleasure in the responsibility that would come after.

Nearing Frank's face, Abraham brought up a massive paw to...

Well, try to give the other jaguar a pet on the head. Some test before he got his own face near enough to lap at any wounds.

To be fair, seeing a bipedal jaguar making its way over to you was no easy thing to stay calm about. It was taller and looked scary and when you were still trying to work through cat feelings vs human feelings there was a lot to process. As Abraham neared, the jaguar flicked its tail against its belly, ears going as close to the skull as possible in preparation of a bad time. Claws were really eating into the mud now as that hand started reaching out to possibly maim it.

A low growl crescendoed threateningly as that paw hand finally met its mark and proceeded to... pet it. After a second of nothing else happening besides the soft touch, the noises slowly stopped and the cat's ears came up a bit to the side. The panther decidedly liked the attention now that it knew it wasn't about to get punted to kingdom come or raked again on the face. Blinking curiously, it headbutted into the hand paw.

There was a moment of tension. He could feel it, hear it, and he nearly pulled his hand away.

But it paid off, because in the end, cats liked pettings. On their terms, sure. But it was a cat thing.

A few gentle patted strokes, and he brought his face nearer to Frank's, whiskers twitching as he sniffed at blood.

Continuing the petting as he crouched low, real low with one hand on the ground to keep him from tipping forward, he sought one single tentative lap near the sight of Frank's wounds.

Testing and hoping for no further violence.

A headbump had earned it more pats and the jaguar lifted up to a more at ease stand, tail snaking back out to flick idly. No need to wallow near the ground if they were just going to get pet. Getting a bit more confident now, it met Abraham's gaze and huffed at the face getting closer, whiskers twitching.

And then the big cat crouched and licked the scratches. The panther's ears went straight forward and rumbled loudly in its chest a sort of purr, but it's mouth opened in a snarly face, lips tugging back at the contact there. It stung! A step back, but it kept itself where it was, knowing the other was just trying to help and the pats helped.

All sorts of bitchy fuckin' noises from the other cat, and Abraham's lip twitched just once, some threat of a threat.

But at the same time, he was mindful of keeping Frank cool, and his clumsy-handed petting of the other jaguar continued. It was the very definition of this form: the petting only a human would do, the lapping only a cat would do.

Kind of just a mess.

Licking his own nose once, Abraham sought again, this time with a more insistent effort near the edges of the wounds, wanting to work his way to the marks themselves to at least rid them of grit and grime.

That tongue was lapping right on the edges of the wounds and lips curled up more Frank tried to get his cat to just sit and chill out for a bit, finding this absolutely wild to be honest: being pet and cleaned up by were Abraham. The jaguar really really really wanted to swat at the big cat face on them, but could be reasoned with that that would for sure cause another face slap with claws like before.

So it grumpily took it, letting out a low hiss once in a while if the tongue got too close to a sensitive part, especially by whiskers and the fine velvet near its nose.

In the end, he would get it done. Lapping with focus but care, one paw still clumsily petting the other cat to keep him soothed.

Eventually he pulled away, feeling like he'd done enough.

He needed to find Sol. Needed to get back. Needed Frank to take a fucking nap first.

There was a lot to do, and he was already exhausted from a form that took so much out of him.

He patted Frank twice more on the head, took a few steps away with intent, and then...

Let his shoulders slump, exhausted, and stared out toward the motel with a sense of dread.

Eventually it was done and the pain had become a singular hum of unease, but it was better. The cat had calmed and eventually sat to take the cleaning, blinking slowly. It was soothing.

A few pats more on its head and Abraham was heading off. Motion causing it to get to its own paws, Frank made a few hurried steps forward knowing he was heading back to the motel before the cat negated that and decided it was hungry and tired and only one thing could really be remedied. A few long roos to big cat friend and it stopped padding forward. Panting a bit, it looked around before finding a nice climbable tree. Sidling up to it, the jaguar looked up and began the climb to a choice branch it could lay down on even though Frank was pretty sure this was a stupid idea.

As soon as it was securely up, it watched the forest with giant blue eyes, legs stretched out and head placed on them before slowly blinking a few times and falling asleep.

Abraham had yet to find a tree that could hold his weight as a giant, fat jaguar. Maybe he could manage it in this form, but he was just...

Beat. And cold. And hungry. And tired. And he wanted to go crawl into bed with Asha and not take care of either of these two.

None of that was an option right now, though. He was exhausted on a deep and miserable level, He wanted some distance between himself and Frank, just... in case he happened to be the one who fell asleep first.

Sleep came heavily as he huddled up next to a tree, sitting up with his back against it and his stupid fucking legs bent in front of him.

It was a case of being awake, and then being...

Out, utterly, in just a few seconds.

After a bit of sleeping, the cat shifted back and by some accidental miracle didn't fall during the process. Instead, as soon as the shift left Frank just chilling naked in a tree, the change in weight and position had the man falling while still sleeping. With a compact 'woomp' breaking up the sound of rain and forest noises, his body fell on its side heavily and stayed there in a comatose state.

If Abraham found him before he woke up, Frank was going to be amongst the big roots and piles of leaves mixed with accented pine needles, looking drenched.

He woke really, really, really cold. Diamond nipples. Testicles somewhere deep within his body. Teeth chattering.

His first instinct was to feel just, like. Sad. Because he had so much fucking work to do, and he wanted to do absolutely none of it. Abraham rose feeling like his muscles and bones had been frozen in place, and he limped ass-naked in dark drizzle to where he knew he'd left his clothing.

Well. What was left of some of it. His jeans, which he had to lean up against a fucking tree and fight with to get in. And of course his boxers had been destroyed, and so all of this was cold and damp on his goddamn dick, and everything was so terrible and he hated all of it.

He managed his shoes with a similar struggle, though, like. At least they weren't freezing to his balls.

Many, many trips happened next. Like a thousand. Or, well. If you were living the Abraham experience, it would go something like:

Trip one: Go to the motel, get a blanket.

Trip two: Go find Sol. This will take more sniffing of the air than you want to admit to in human form. Feel really, really, really apologetic about seeing her naked and wrapping her up in a blanket and then carrying her like a murder victim back to the motel. Do this all shirtless, which makes it a lot worse? Wrap Sol in a towel because now the blanket is soaked and leave her on the bed with a non-soaked blanket on top of that.

Trip three: Go find Frank. Repeat this process, but with less guilt and more suffering because Franks are heavier than Sols. Try not to look at his cold shrunken dick and think about your cold shrunken dick. Do this all shirtless, which makes it a lot worse? Wrap Frank in a towel because now the blanket is soaked and leave him on the fucking floor with a non-soaked blanket on top of that.

Trip four: Go to the car and grab a bag of utterly frozen fast food. Bring it back to the motel and throw it on the nearest table.

Trip five: Go out to the car and get ready to leave.

Trip six: Decide to write a note. Go back to the hotel and find a notepad. Write "Went home. -Abraham" on a piece of paper in what feels like angry handwriting, which is what you're going for. Do this all shirtless, which makes it a lot worse?

Trip seven: Go out to the car and get ready to leave. Text Asha that you love her and you're so cold that your nipples hurt. Drive home. Feel really, really weird about driving home without a shirt-

Trip eight: Turn back as soon as you leave the parking lot. Realize you still have the hotel key, but more importantly, you need it to get the alcohol. Take all of the alcohol out to the car. Give side eye to some fuckwit staring at you for being shirtless and carrying booze from a motel into a car in the rain.

Trip nine: Go home. Shirtless.

It would all go something like that, but maybe with a little extra shivering.

Abraham left the motel key and what he could find of everyone's belongings next to the angry handwriting note and thawing fast food.

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