Obsidian padded cautiously up tot he housethe house. No twolegs were there currently, and for the moment being, he couldn't spot any other cats. The nest didn't look deserted...it looked rather well kept, pretty, friendly. He couldn't understand why a pretty twoleg nest like this would appear to be so...deserted. Carefully he continued onwards towards the door, his ears pinned backwards against his skull as he did so. Caution was one thing that Obsidian practiced regularly- he was living in fear of getting caught by a twoleg. A life like that was only a half-life, in his opinion. Maybe not even a life at all.
Although he knew there were cats who would disagree with his views, at the moment, Obsidian couldn't have cared less. His tail twitched back and forth as his hues swept the area, thoughts going through his head quickly. No sign of twolegs- good. The house looks nice- not sure. Deserted- maybe. Comfortable- definitely. Wonder if I can get in...no, if there are twolegs here somewhere, they might trap me. And what if they've got a dog- not for me, no thanks. That sunny spot looks nice. No sign of anyone over there. He thought, glancing cautiously from side to side before settling down. He had been a kittypet before- although he had carefully slipped away, and his twolegs were never the wiser.
They'll probably just get another cat. Stupid twolegs- they never cared about me anyways. He thought with a furious lash of his tail. He wasn't quite sure where to go from here. He was worried that if he became a loner, he wouldn't quite know how to look after himself...the twolegs had 'rescued' him off the streets, in their words, and ever since then he had been spoiled rotten. What if he didn't know how to avoid twolegs? Or predators? The only practice hunting he had gotten had been fat mice in a tiny area, not out in the wilds where they were larger, not to mention smarter and meaner. How could a little critter like that have such a powerful bite?
Obsidian settled down a little more, relaxing. The peaceful birdsong in the garden seemed to calm him more, making him feel more at home and rested. His hues half closed lazily as he let down his guard. No one would hurt him here. No other 'more important, special' cat to take attention away from him. No twolegs telling him to get out because his 'adopted brother' needed to get ready for showtime. No cats rejecting him just because he wasn't purebred. No, all of that was in the past now. Now he was safe. He would never let anyone get close to him again. He would never let himself be broken as he had before again. Everything was going just fine...