January 28th, 1890 — Streets of Wellingtonshire Near the Lupin Household
"Leo."
Nanny's voice had that warning tone to it. The sort of sound that made him want to do the exact opposite of whatever it was she was going to say. It was likely because he was getting ahead of her again, but it was meant to be his walk and not hers. He should be able to go exactly where he wanted. Just to spite her, he skipped along faster.
He would have continued to speed up if it weren't for the blob of brown that caught his eye. Was that a cat? With a gleeful smile, he scurried his way closer. The creature didn't move. It laid stiff as a broomstick just off the edge of the street.
Hadn't he seen this particular cat before?
"Matchstick cat."
His gaze fell on the feline's tail that looked as if it had been singed. That had been his handiwork, but the cat hadn't died at his hands. That fact made him much more curious! With his shiny, little boot, he drew back and gave the deceased pet a swift kick.
Open to anyone who might be wandering about Wellingtonshire.