She Tipped The Contents On The Floor

Ava liberated the gentlewoman’s portmanteau and disappeared into the hidey-hole she shared with a cranky tabby. Inside, she tipped the contents on the floor. Twelve engraved coins spilled out. The tabby grumbled.

“The monger’s eye was too sharp. Plus, the fish wasn’t fresh.” The cat bit her pinky.

“No, Kitty. We can’t eat each other.” Ava picked up a coin engraved with a rat. “Useless,” she groaned, only to have it slip from her fingers as they hardened into claws. Her nose stretched, and she shrank. In a heartbeat, she scurried around the hidey-hole, squeaking in the form of a rat. Kitty’s pupils enlarged. He wriggled then pounced.

“No!” Ava squeaked and immediately elongated into a scrawny sneak-thief with a tabby clinging to her shoulder. “No eating friends.”

She picked up another engraved with a snake. “Who’d want to be a--” Her sentence ended in a hiss. The hair rose along Kitty’s back as he took a swat.

“No,” Ava hissed as she became a hungry urchin with cat scratches along her arm. “Enough.” She shoved the coins into the portmanteau, but one rolled free. Ava’s pupils grew wide. She snatched it up and burst free of the hidey-hole as a dragon. Kitty cowered as Ava swooped down, snatched him up, and flipped him into the air, her jaws wide open in a terrifying grin. Kitty howled in horror before landing safely on her back.

“Yes,” Ava roared as she and kitty flew to the sea for fresh fish.

Photo by Tim Mossholder