This sketch is just for practice.
Rose the gray cat now has a little felt owl stuffed with catnip, and she is possessive and vicious with it. She tucks the owl in between all four of her paws and sits on it while hunching her shoulders and glaring at people, which is cute.
Here is a bit of Diana.
Two days passed very quietly. Diana explored all the books in the house and was relieved to find an extensive collection of interesting murder mysteries, which she started to read in the main crook of the tree outside.
The concentric garden of eggplant-like vegetables turned out to be much nicer to eat than the boxes of mush, and Diana straightened up the house the first morning and then spent the rest of her time outside.
She was not quite brave enough to sleep in the tree, but she curled up with a pillow and a blanket at the roots of the tree and slept on the ground.
Diana didn’t want to go back into the house. Stuart seemed to be in every room, and she worked hard throughout the two days to keep her mind off him.
On the third morning since the aliens had taken Stuart away, Diana woke up with a buzz of fear in her gut. More companions, the aliens had said. She was expecting at least a boy her age, and possibly a whole horde of teenagers.
Diana got the impression, from the way Tiffany had known her name and talked about her, that she was meant to be a sort of house mother to any humans who came to visit.
Midway through the morning, a loud, raucous noise of several men came from the backyard of the house. Diana moved without thinking, scrambling up the trunk of the tree and into the highest branches that could support her weight.
She heard a splintering sound and a loud bark of male laughter from the backyard, and her whole body seemed to twist into icy terror.
Diana was very glad for the thick foliage the aliens had caused to explode out from every branch of the tree, for she was very well hidden. Diana leaned out on a slender branch and peered through the bright green leaves to see the newcomers, who were stomping around the corner of the house.
You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, Scarsdale is learning about the birds on Domasus.