Cathy Bramhall’s pet calico Patch paraded happily through the pet door of her townhouse kitchen, medallion firmly in its jaws.
“Hmm?” The zoology student looked up from her boiling spaghetti to see her dearest feline companion curling up against her leg.
“Hey, Patch,” she smiled, kneeling down to scratch behind his ears. “Whaddya got there, huh?” He purred in response, eagerly climbing up her leg to present the medallion.
Cathy extracted the shiny talisman from his mouth and held it to the light.
“Wow,” was all she could manage. Though the symbols and script were far beyond her comprehension, the image of the humanized feline certainly captivated her. It resembled a hybrid of every cat known to human science, though its cast was only tempered silver.
Her first thought was to return it to its owner, but she had no idea who that was, or where to find them. Her next was to try it on herself, since she loved cats and lacked any jewelry as fancy as this.
“Belinda’ll go nuts when she sees this,” she smirked, as she slipped the chain around her creamy white flesh and tossed her long blonde locks around it. She squatted and planted a hand on the kitchen tile to examine in the reflection from the stove, loving the way it complemented her rich blue eyes and hung down delicately within her moderate cleavage. The oddest thought struck her then, of how natural being hunkered down this way felt...
Only Patch’s mewing and the smoke alarm snapped her from her reverie. She gasped and launched herself upright, and cursed as she cleared the air and rescued her dinner.
Patch left the room in contentment, somehow knowing he’d done a good thing today.
Cathy found herself distracted throughout dinner; finally she nibbled on the pasta and hungrily devoured the meat.
She had intended to get back to her schoolwork. Her Zoology paper was due in three days, and it wasn’t finishing itself. On top of that, she had that killer Bio midterm coming up in three days. As she hit the books and tapped the keys, she found her thoughts and fingers constantly drawn to the medallion.
“Shit,” she chided herself, yet she couldn’t bear to take it off. Her shoes and socks, yes, but not the medallion. As the temperature in her study room rose, so did Cathy’s restlessness and nakedness, until her attire consisted of her functional bra and unbelted jeans. Patch occasionally strode into the room to keep her company; he was welcome as always, though Cathy was at a loss to explain the curious sniffs and looks he gave. She continued to fidget and yawn, finally electing to save her work and just stretch for a while.
Two rooms down the hall, her Queen-sized bed was found with a purposeful flop, and after a bit of squirming and stretching, Cathy was asleep within moments. Not even the soft humming golden glow of her new trinket disturbed her slumber.
Her dreams were no less active. She found herself amidst a mystical field, connected to every imaginable climate within the world. She wore nothing save the medallion, though the feline image was absent from its center.
She looked around for it, and realized it was within one of the lands. It had also assumed a distinct form, one she felt irresistibly, deeply drawn to...