Diana gave a faint nod. But the way her lips were pressed tightly together, drenched in gloom, hadn’t changed one bit. Chesif decided this was as far as his consoling efforts would go.
“I’ve got something to take care of. Since I skipped a meal, tell them to bring me something light to eat.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the room. A servant quickly trailed behind him.
Once they’d put some distance between themselves and Diana’s chamber, Chesif gave a quiet command without turning his head.
“Lucky break. It disappeared on its own. Just pretend you’re looking—don’t actually bother.”
“Understood.”
A faint smirk curled his lips. At last, he could say goodbye to that filthy furball.
Maybe he’d toss it a piece of bread if they ever crossed paths again. To be fair, it had helped him get closer to Diana.
***
Thankfully, he didn’t mess up the landing or hurt himself—though he did slightly twist a paw.
Finally free, Strawberry’s first move was to rip off that hated collar. It had been a long, exhausting struggle—he was panting from the effort—but he’d made it out unscathed, and that was what mattered.
He then wandered the area, almost like he was enchanted. The streets had a strong medieval vibe and were surprisingly fun to explore. Maybe because a noble estate was nearby, the city center was busier and cleaner than expected.
The only downside was that he couldn’t enjoy it for long. Someone might come looking for him. With that thought gnawing at him, Strawberry hurried his pace.
Even well-paved roads have their share of shady back alleys, and that’s exactly where he headed.
I need to find a place to hide.
The sun was still high now, but once night fell, he’d need a safe spot to sleep. He planned to explore the area until sundown.
That plan, however, was quickly scrapped when he came face-to-face with the city’s darker side.
Three massive cats stood in his path, casting shadows over his face. Their bodies were scarred, telling tales of rough lives. Strawberry swallowed hard, his nerves on edge.
“Meeowrgh.”
Maybe it would just sound like a normal cat’s cry.
—Hey. This is our turf. Take one more step, and we’ll treat it like you’re trespassing.
The voice was deep and gravelly—and far too clear.
Wait, I can understand cats?
Was that a blessing or a curse? Conflicted, he shut his eyes tight.
Whoever said running away from home was nothing but pain—they weren’t wrong. He was really starting to get it now.
***
So how did it end?
He got kicked out.
Unbelievable.
Never in his life did he think he’d get driven off by a bunch of cats. But there was nothing he could do.
There were three of them. And when it came to clawing and biting in a full-on feline fight… he didn’t stand a chance. Adapting to a cat’s body was one thing—brawling like one was another story entirely.
Luckily, after roaming around for a bit, he eventually found a spot that seemed untouched by other cats—a safe zone, for now.
But the real problem came the next day.
There’s no food.
Whether human or cat, the essentials were the same: food and shelter. Okay, maybe clothes weren’t necessary for a cat, so just food and shelter.
In any case, finding food was just as important as securing a place to sleep.
Honestly, when he first ran away, he had this naive little hope. Maybe I’ll find some berries or something along the way? Yeah, no.
There was absolutely nothing.
The streets were so cleanly maintained that there weren’t even that many trees or bushes. At most, a few street trees with fluttering green leaves—no fruit in sight. After being shooed away by a person during one of his foraging attempts, he knew he needed another strategy.
So came Plan B.
Should I try dumpster diving?
A wave of shame started to creep up, but it felt like his only shot.
If the city was this spotless, there had to be a place where they gathered trash. Maybe he could find something edible there. With his sharp sense of smell, tracking it down wasn’t hard.
But then—
“Meeeoow! HSSSS!”
—Back off! This is our turf!
What greeted him was a cat with gleaming yellow eyes, fur bristling.
“……”
Here too? A sigh caught in his throat.
But if it’s just one… I might actually have a shot.
He subtly glanced around. If it had been three, sure, he’d have no chance. But just one? He might actually win.
That hopeful thought evaporated almost instantly.
Multiple presences began to close in from the shadows.
One, two, three, four… at least five.
Of course it wasn’t just one. These guys knew this trash heap was a gold mine. The one standing guard sneered with a filthy, mean grin.
In the end, Strawberry tried to negotiate.
—Just one bag. Come on, be generous!
—Three rats per bag. Take it or leave it.
That’s about how it went. Shoulders slumped, he was forced to back away from the garbage heap, thoroughly defeated.
Time to rethink things. Was there any place food practically fell from the sky?
…Actually, yes.
This was the middle of the city—a bustling shopping district. Food shops were everywhere.
I’ll steal some.
He whispered an apology to the unknown shopkeeper in his head.
What he didn’t know was that stealing wasn’t as simple as it sounded.
In other words—he failed. Miserably.
***
Day four of his grand escape-and-strike protest.
Strawberry was finally coming to terms with reality. He’d been way too optimistic about life outside the estate. And more importantly, he’d had absolutely no plan.
Maybe I should’ve just stayed.
That place he’d once thought of as hell now seemed… manageable. At least there, he didn’t have to worry about food or shelter.
The first day had been fine—he still had food in his belly. But on the second day, he starved. On the third, he found a crumb of bread smaller than his paw—nowhere near enough to fill him.
He even tried to catch a rat at one point, but—of course—those sneaky bastards were nowhere to be found when you actually wanted them.
And now?
…I’m starving to death.
No exaggeration—his stomach felt like it was glued to his spine. His head was clear from the hunger, but the clarity came with a cost: he couldn’t think straight anymore.
Which was exactly why he was about to attempt theft… again.
After almost getting kicked across the pavement during his first try, he’d avoided humans altogether. And yet here he was, sneaking back toward another shop. Hunger had driven him to madness—or at least close enough.
Pressing himself against the corner of a building, Strawberry stilled his breath and quieted his movements. He’d scoped the area yesterday—this shop had the perfect escape route right behind it.
I can’t just rush it.
The bakery had its bread displayed out front, but there was always a lid covering it—probably to keep strays like him from grabbing a bite. When a customer made a choice, the owner would take the bread out, wrap it up, and hand it over.
So his only chance… was when someone made a purchase.
“Which ones are good today?”
Perfect timing. A woman burdened with shopping bags walked up to the storefront. Strawberry crouched even lower, hiding himself.
“Ah, ma’am, you ask that every time! I’m proud of all of them. But if I had to choose, I’d recommend the potato bread. We just bought a big batch of spuds—nice and plump, naturally sweet even when steamed. You’ll love it.”
“Then I’ll take one of those… oh, and two of these sandwiches.”
“That’ll be twenty donghwa altogether.”
Coins clinked in the woman’s hand as the owner began packing her order. The scent of fresh, fluffy bread wafted toward Strawberry’s nose. He clenched his jaw, holding himself back. Not yet. Timing was everything.
And the moment that paper bag—stuffed with baked goods—landed in the woman’s hands…
Now!
He sprang into action, charging straight at her. With a high leap, he body-slammed the bag, sending everything inside flying into the air.
“Kyaa!”
“You damn cat! Not again!”
Shrieks and shouting collided in a noisy mess. As the shop owner froze in place, startled by the commotion, Strawberry dove in and managed to snatch a roll mid-fall.
“Hey, you little thief! Get back here!”
I’m sorry. But I have to live too…
He bolted down the alley, leaving behind an apology that no one would ever hear.
He fought the urge to eat right then and there. First, he had to make it back to his hideout safely.
This should last me two days at least.
If he rationed it, maybe even three.
He remembered the shopkeeper’s praise for those potatoes. If the bread was half as good, his mouth was in for a treat. Just the thought made him salivate.
But the moment didn’t last.
Strawberry abruptly stopped and stepped back, startled.
