"I, Felis Duquesne, once again return to burgle your bread!"

A short boy, around twelve years or so, stood in front of the shopkeeper, hands on his hips and brown, feline tail twitching confidently behind him. A brash grin pulled across the whisker-shaped marks on his cheeks, eagerness highlighted in his gold eyes. His hands reached for a slingshot at his waist, pulling it back to aim an imaginary rock at the old man's head. "Preferably now, before I attack."

Then he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the counter. Usually, the man would chuckle at the Cait Sith's antics before handing over one of his famous chestnut loaves, Felis already able to smell the warm, sweet bread, but for some reason, today he was shaking his head, wispy grey bangs blocking his eyes from view.

"I'm sorry, Felis but... I can't anymore."

"What?" His mouth dropped open in shock, and he leapt up onto the counter, the soft soles of his boots easily finding their footing amongst the wooden shelves of the stall. Leaning down, he craned his head until his short, stubby nose was practically touching the shopkeeper's own crooked one. "Why? Why not Alfonz? Why? Wh-"

"Don't go getting your dirty paws all over my wares. Get down!" Alfonz waved a wrinkled hand in his direction.

"Fine!" Felis shouted, but only after sticking out his tongue. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his baggy, beige shorts, he hopped back onto the street, blowing his brown bangs out of his face with a huff. "You didn't answer my question though. Do you want money now? Is that it, Mister?"

He only asked out of curiosity. It wasn't as though he had any coins; not since the Mistress found the box containing his last escapade's winnings from under his bed frame.

A flicker of annoyance ran through him as he remembered what she had so wrongfully taken from him: Three silver pelos, a rock with little blue sparkly bits on the inside, and Martin, his lucky stick. Never again would he find one so perfectly curved with a little twig off the side like a waving hand. His friend had been lost forever to the orphanage's furnaces, a noble sacrifice that Felis would never forget.

"... no. No, I just can't sell to your kind, or let you 'burgle my bread' anymore. I'm sorry," Alfonz whispered, his voice sounding strained.

"My kind?" A fang poked out of his mouth as he bit his lip. "Wait... because of these?" He reached up to tug at two, cat-like ears poking out of the top of his scruffy hair. "I thought you said I was cute." Crossing his arms, he fixed Alfonz with another glare. "It's very rude to lie, ya know."

"Felis- You need to leave. Now."

He flinched back at the warning hiss in Alfonz's tone, a tightness growing in his chest. Why? Why is he acting like this when he's always so nice to me? He did this every day, same time, the same line. Why would it be any different today?

His small fists curled tighter around his slingshot. Maybe he should have launched a real rock at Alfonz's head in order to get him to stop acting like... however he was being right now.

"Fine! I hate you too!"

Stamping his foot, Felis turned around. He meant to walk away slowly, calmly like the adult he practically was, but instead it turned into a run as Alfonz's stall was replaced by wooden boards and from there, the open sea. The final building before it fell away to the ports was a fishmonger's store with a thatched roof and barrels lined up along its side. He hopped up onto them, fighting against the wobbling to climb to the top. Straw poked into his palms as he padded along the roof, finally settling with his knees over the edge.

Usually he came up here to watch the sunset, the sky lit up in beautiful coral and purple hues as the light glinted across the pristine water. But it looked blurry to him, his throat tight as the wind whipped salt into his face, tugging playfully at the blue scarf around his neck. His tail curled around him, and the tears finally came.

Why? Why does this keep happening?

He'd spent his whole life romping through the marketplace, asking for samples here and bigger samples there... and none of the merchants had ever minded. Mercie would save him a few mangos behind her chair, Henry had always kept a spare toy for him to play around with until he accidentally broke it, and Alfonz had his bread. But today, they'd all shared the same answer:

"I'm sorry, but I can't help your kind anymore."

"Why?" he asked again, his voice croaky as he looked at his hands, pushing each curved claw out of his fingertips. Was that the problem? If his fingers looked more Human, then they would be nicer?

But they never cared before. Only today. His knees curled up to his chest, and he hugged them. It was the same routine he carried out every single day for years and now... now it was gone. Anxiety spiked in his chest, and he squeezed his arms tighter. Did I do something wrong?

He sniffed, the tears dying down to a simple, quiet sob. His eyes trailed down to the market below, where Humans, Bruxa, Merfolk, Fae, and more bartered, or prepared to set sail on the endless sea. All of Crisol was a mix of any and every race working to explore and trade the bounties of the goddess' sea.

So why not me? Why am I different?

Just because he hadn't seen or heard of other Cait Sith didn't mean they were weird or wrong. It's just all the stupid merchants being selfish. Well, they better watch out because now Felis Duquesne really will burgle their wares. Then I will be a breadwinner once again instead of... a breadloser?

Whatever the term was, he decided he was becoming one, right now. After all, who was going to stop him?

"Hey! You can't be up on the roof, kid!"

Felis' ears pricked up, and he looked over to see a woman holding a wooden box, long, curly waves of red hair flowing out from beneath her large captain's hat. She narrowed sharp, teal eyes at him, barking out another order. "You're going to hurt yourself. Get down."

Felis only pursed his lips, rocking his body back and forth. "But what if I really like this roof? It's very high."

The points of her already drooping ears dipped further down in disappointment, stern face completely blank. "I'll alert the guards, but only after I drag you down by the scuff of your neck myself."

Something about the way she said it made the sadness still lingering in his chest scatter, a smirk taking over his face. "You'll have to catch me first!"

Darting over to the other edge of the roof, he peered out over to the next, straw laced one. It wasn't too far, maybe twenty five adult feet or so. He lowered his stance, planting one foot behind him...

"Don't you dare!"

But he ignored the woman. There was only the excitement of bursting forward, arms stretched out as he could feel his magic curling around him. It came in waves, washing over his arms as they became coated in fur. It was a cool, yet powerful feeling, like the ocean itself had come to playfully lap within his very soul. His form shrank, back hunched and claws outstretched as the alley soared beneath him, holding a single, pirate woman with her mouth agape in wonder.

Then he landed on the opposite roof as a brown and beige cat that pawed over to watch her, tail flicking behind him in amusement. The box slipped out of her hands, cracking open on the ground to spill out hundreds of small, silver spoons.

"You're... you're a Cait Sith." She breathed out the word, like she couldn't believe it.

Felis only sat there, licking a paw and reaching up to pull at his ear, alleviating the slight itch that always sat there after transforming. He couldn't answer her– not like this– but he was sure she could see how awesome he was without his help.

So instead he left her, turning on his heel and tapping along the straw until another alley stretched before him, followed by another roof. He'd been planning on returning to the marketplace and taking the bread he so rightfully deserved, but after talking to the woman, he could see how late it was getting. The sky had fallen from purple to a rich navy, dotted in a slew of twinkling white. That meant two things:

One, the journey back to the orphanage would be beautiful, and easy to follow with the stars as his guide. Two, the Mistress was prepping willow branches for a severe thrashing. He quickened his pace.

It was much more fun traveling like this, feeling the wind catch along his stripy fur, every sound, every smell from the market coming alive to fill his mind with each detail. The world fell from beneath him as he jumped again, eyes drawing in moonlight to show his landing. Windows glowed with candles as the people of Crisol prepared for bed, and off in the distance, he could begin to make out children's voices, shouting and whining and playing... He was close to home, he could feel it.

Sometimes when he was like this, it all felt like so much: colors pelting at him, voices and footsteps scratching at his eardrums, his scarf too tight and itchy, everything coming and coming until all he wanted to do was curl into himself and cry. But at night? Night was when the world was silently alive, just enough to let him enjoy being himself without the constant bombardment of the busy town.

Eventually, the slew of shops died down until Felis found himself nearing a ring of large, fern-like trees surrounding a wooden building with a pointed roof.

He leapt out, paws landing on a single branch that ran close to his window. It shook a bit under his weight, but his balance was fine, and he crept along it until a warm, yellow glow hit him. Inside, he could see Cristóbal chasing after a ball, eventually tripping on his loose white shirt. Behind him was Sendina, ready to steal it from him, when the shared bedroom door was flung open with a bang.

"Why are we not in bed?"

Felis retreated further into the shadow, not wanting to get caught by the older woman standing in the doorframe. Still, he could hear her tongue clicking in time with her shoes as she walked further in. Her curt voice rang out again. "And where is Felis?"

The mention of his name made his fur bristle, a prickling feeling taking over his legs and tail.

"I dunno." It was Cristóbal who answered. "Haven't seen him since he cat-ed himself and jumped out the window halfway through school."

"He what?"

"He skipped class. Literally. He skipped out of the window and I haven't seen him since."

That snitch! His claws eased out of his toes, and he began kneading the branch. When he got ahold of that boy he would-

An aggravated groan echoed from the room, no doubt from the Mistress. "If I ever catch that boy he's going to learn exactly how many ways there are to skin a cat. And as for the rest of you—" The light was blown out, making the branch fall into pure shadow. "Go to sleep."

"Yes Mistress."

As the door closed, Felis hopped down from the branch, landing on the bed he knew sat at the edge of the room. Instead of the soft plush of a feather-filled mattress though, his feet felt skin.

"Oof! Felis!" It was Taresa, the blonde craning her head up to whisper fiercely at him. "That's my ribs!"

He couldn't answer, but amusement bubbled up in him as he continued to step on her, trodding along her chest, neck, face.

"Felis!"

Instantly, hands were scooped around his middle, and before he could react, he was being flung across the room. His feet shot out in front of him, but he couldn't stop himself from falling towards the pile of laundry in the corner of the room. Fabric billowed up around him, but it didn't entirely stop the thud of hitting the floor beneath, and his magic ebbed away until he was just a boy sitting in a pile of dirty clothes.

He reached up to grab a pair of underpants that had somehow managed to balance on his head and threw it at Taresa, annoyed. "What was that for?"

"For stepping on me! It hurts, ya know." She sat up, putting hands on her skinny hips. "What are you doing home so late?"

"I was having adventures. Something you wouldn't know about because you're boring." He pushed himself out of the laundry pile, adjusting his brown, sleeveless vest, knocked askew from the fall.

"Well your adventures are going to get us all in trouble." Teresa huffed before flopping onto her mattress. "Now go to bed."

Felis shook his head. "Not yet."

"What do you mean not yet?" Now the other children were sitting up, looking at him.

"I'm hungry." He shrugged, making his way over to the door. After all, his entire trip had been fruitless, and more importantly, breadless. His stomach growled again as if to remind him, and he took that as his cue to turn the knob, peering into the darkness. Maybe there was still some cheese leftover from dinner, or fish. He hoped for the latter. Much like milk, cheese seemed to be jinxed to forever cramp his insides while the rest of the children ate it just fine. Fish, on the other hand, did not seem to come with an ancient curse attached. He took a step downstairs.

"I hope you get caught and whipped then, Cat."

He shot one last grin at her over his shoulder. "The likes of Felis Duquesne never gets caught." And with that, he closed the door behind him.