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A Good Man Needed

Hehhey, folks!

Here's the first part of what I hope to be a small series, just trying this character/situation out here, so be sure to give me a lot of feedback if you want to see some more happening to our new fuzzy striped hero : ) I had fun writing this, and I hope that you enjoy the read, too! Looking forward to reading what you think! *smiles*

As always, also remember that votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!

*

Ken was not unused to being woken up by his phone ringing at a godawful hour, but it always made his furs spike up with trepidation while fumbling for his trusty phone from by the bed.

"Harris," the tiger grumbled, one paw rubbing over his bleary eyes while he tried to yawn the awful taste of the night away from his muzzle, big tongue washing his gums as he did so.

"Boss!"

It took a moment for his tired brain to make the connection before it finally occurred to him.

"Jerome?" the tiger croaked.

"Boss, it's a disaster," the excited voice spoke on the other end.

The tiger tensed. He knew Jerome, and while the wolf had a habit for the hyperbole, even he wouldn't take the exaggeration to quite such lengths.

"What's going on?" Ken grunted, suddenly feeling more alert, at least his body did, tail swishing the floor by his small bed.

"Glen's in the hospital," the wolf panted.

Ken's ears bounced.

"What the hell?"

"Glen was throwing ball with his kids in his backyard and he slipped a disc. He's gonna need surgery and he's out of business for at least six to eight weeks."

_ _

"Hrooooooouuuuh!" Ken exclaimed.

"I know, boss."

_ _

Ken rubbed his face while another loud rumble escaped from his chest.

"We've got the insulators coming in to Crillewood today, how the hell are we gonna deal with that without Glen?"

"I don't know, boss, I already asked Wade if he could come but the plumbers are in Caulfield and that asbestos..."

_ _

"Don't remind me, I'm bleeding money out of my ass with that asbestos," the tiger growled, "how about Craig?"

"Flown to Harrisburg to take part in the concrete element expedition."

_ _

"Shit," Ken hissed. He was too tired to remember where all of his staff had gone at the moment. Or maybe just overwhelmed. He should've hired a full-time secretary a year ago, he thought ruefully, before reminding himself that he couldn't afford such a luxury yet.

"Well I'm here now, but I have to go to Holden to see the painters before noon so we're in a bit of a

pinch here, boss."

"You don't have to tell me that," the tiger grunted as he sat up on his bed, big footpaws stomping the floor while he sat on the edge, the bulky cat clad in a white sleeveless T-shirt and some old boxers, "and we can't afford to let any site go on a standstill....or chaos..."

"I know right, "the wolf replied, "I'm phoning around but you know..."

_ _

"Yeah, I know," the tiger said, "good men don't grow in trees, I know, that's what dad always said."

"Everyone's dad should say it."

_ _

The tiger chortled.

"What's going on there now?"

"Well the guys are mostly just cleaning up a bit before the insulation guys come over, so it's pretty peaceful for the moment."

_ _

The tiger knew that it could change for the worst at any moment, prompting another loud huff from the cat.

"I'll call Patterson," Ken said, "maybe one of his guys can come. Shit!"

"Really sorry I can't stay here, boss, but it's what it is."

_ _

"Don't tell me," the tiger huffed ,"I'll come over there. Maybe I can stay in for a while if I have to but we know that we need someone more permanent."

"Yeah, we do."

_ _

"You keep calling everyone you know, I'll do my rounds, and I'll be there in a bit," the tiger said. "Just make sure they've got it ready before the truck comes, alright?"

"Sure do, Boss, but remember that I have to go to Holden today, I can only hold the fort that long."

_ _

"I know, I know, "Ken grumbled, a paw scratching across his chest while his jaws gnawed nervously, "I'll pop by Carlton Street and I'll be there."

"Thanks, boss."

_ _

"And I have to go to the bank today...shit, fuck, shit, " Ken grumbled.

"See you soon, boss."

_ _

"Thanks, Jerome," the tiger huffed.

"...and...I guess I woke you up, so...sorry about that."

_ _

"What's a missed hour of sleep here or there?" the tiger grumbled. "Bye, Jerome."

"Bye, boss!"

_ _

Ken closed the phone, dropped it onto the small bedside table, and yawned, a hiss escaping from his wide open maw.

"Boss..." the tiger snorted. "Fuck that."

Well, he was the boss. And he was in the trouble of letting Crillewood to fall behind schedule because one 51-year-old bear had decided to play NFL with his kids.

"Fuck," the tiger groaned.

*

"...wish I could help, Ken, but I've got everyone tied on the city development project at the moment."

_ _

"Oh, shit," Ken grunted into his paws-free headset while he swiveled the steering wheel and maneuvered his Transporter through the intersection, "not even a junior guy for a week before I can find a proper replacement?"

"I do wish I could help, Ken, but you know what it is like..."

_ _

The tiger grunted, not liking the glance of himself he got in the rear view mirror while he hit the gas and joined the quiet outgoing traffic.

"I know what it is, but I can't believe everyone is so busy."

"Oh there are men around, but you know that you need a good man, not just a man."

_ _

"Why do you think I called you, Jeffrey?" the tiger put up his most ass-kissing tone, hoping that the cougar on the other end of the line would relent.

"Well it is what it is."

_ _

The tiger wondered whether echoes were forming in his head, if everyone saying the same things today. It felt almost bizarre, and his tired brain was not really up to processing all of it in the moment. He couldn't believe it was already Tuesday and it felt like it was Friday...not that he had had much rest during the previous weekend, because Nation Hill had been put on sale and he'd had to prance around in a suit and a tie all Saturday...

"Yeah, I know," the tiger grumbled, "just thought I'd ask, considering everything."

"Well, I might have someone released in a couple of weeks when we wrap up on that school renovation, but I can't give any guarantees on that yet."

_ _

"I know," Ken replied, "I'll get back to you, maybe, then, if I can't find anyone else."

"Oh, by all means, and I'll give you a ring, too!"

_ _

"Thanks, Jeffrey, the tiger said, "good day to you."

"Good day, Ken!"

_ _

"Bye."

The tiger tapped the little button on the side of his paws-free set and let out a constrained growl. Crap! He'd just gone through all of his regular construction partners and it seemed that everyone was tied down somewhere or another. Maybe the economy really was picking up, the tiger thoughts, cheeks puffed out while he calmed himself down with a series of deep huffs. He felt moderately more alert now after a takeaway coffee and the stinging paint fumes at the Carlton Street renewal site which had made his eyes sting despite the foreman's assurances that they'd gone to all the lengths required to ventilate. He was sure that the smell of paint thinner was going to remain on his furs for the day...or maybe even longer. A good scrub surely was in place.

Ken hit the brakes when a Jetta decided to suddenly slow down to a crawl in front of him and cussed under his breath. He was already running late, he knew, the insulators might have already come over to Crillewood and if Jerome had to leave for his own primary work site, there was nobody there except the workers, and while they were good, trustworthy men, he still wasn't sure that any of them would have the big picture needed to make it all click into place. Hell, Ken wasn't sure even he knew it all. Shit! Glen had been such an asset for this project, covering it from the beginning towards it projected end...but now the bear was out. He could only hope that it wasn't permanent...finding good foremen was always a struggle, especially in construction, where men were coming and going anyway. Many were simply just too good for it...

The tiger decided to use the sudden standstill to dig out his phone and dial Jerome's number. The phone signaled a few times before there was a rattle and a gruff "hello" on the other end.

"It's Ken," the tiger said, "I'm on my way there."

"Oh, boss, good to hear from you!" the wolf replied. "I've got great news!"

_ _

"What is it? Has Glen made a miraculous recovery after a false diagnosis?" the tiger chortled.

"Well, no...but Chad, you remember Chad, he said that Ramon knew someone he worked with at the Pinehouse carehome and he might be available, so I phoned up and the guy showed up fifteen minutes ago!"

_ _

The tiger's ears perked a little beneath his CAT cap while he listened to the wolf's surprisingly excited chatter.

"So you found someone?"

"Yeah, the guy's already looking at the plans for the insulation and says he can handle it."

_ _

"Wow, wow, who is this guy?" Ken questioned.

"..uhh...the name's Harding...Adam Harding?"

_ _

"That doesn't ring a bell," Ken replied.

"I guess he's new in town, but he checks out. American and all."

_ _

"I could've guessed from the name," the tiger said, "hold on, I'll be there in about 15 to 20 minutes, the traffic is being weird, but I'll be there soon."

"Whenever you can, but I have to be in Holden in less than an hour, I only have the boy looking after everything there for now."

_ _

"You'll make it," Ken rumbled, "I'm on my way. Don't let the new guy mess anything up before I show up, alright?"

"Sure, sure! Think I'm gonna head to the trailer to see what's going on."

_ _

"You do that, and I'll be there in a bit."

"See you, boss."

_ _

"Bye."

The tiger tapped the line shut and let out a deep breath. It sounded a bit dodgy, but he was willing to give it a shot.

*

20 minutes later, Ken finally pulled up next to Jerome's beat-up Chrysler with his own station wagon. Despite the sun being barely up, activity on the construction site was picking up. He could see men lingering about, carrying stuff, pushing wheelbarrows, general building site things happening, the tiger thought with some pride. At least the men were working...without a boss or not.

Ken grabbed his personal hard hat and high visibility jacket from the passenger's seat where they usually laid in a perpetual bundle with his builder's tool belt and his old battered leather suitcase. Thus armed, with the helmet stuffed over his CAT cap and the vest hanging from his arm, he rushed through the sloshy gravel-covered yard and over towards the red trailer office parked on the edge of the site. Lights were shining inside, denoting activity, and once he got up the small steps and through the door, the smell of coffee, wolf, and...tiger...were prominent.

His eyes spied Jerome, the thirty-something wolf leaning over the desk with the lamp on, the wolf clad in a vest and a helmet as well, which he obviously hadn't bothered to take off after entering. Next to him stood a tall, lean tiger, seemingly deep in thought while he leaned onto the table, one paw plastered over the layers of paper spread onto the desk. Both furs' heads raised and ears perked at the sound of the door being opened, and Jerome even managed a smile.

"Morning, Ken grumbled, "what's going on here?"

"Morning, boss!" Jerome cheered. "Here's - "

The tiger turned about and stepped away from the table, extending a paw to the newcomer.

"Adam Harding," the tiger replied, his voice as confident as his handshake, which Ken replied in kind, his knuckles, feeling it even once it was over.

"Kenneth Shingle," Ken grumbled, "I'm the boss."

"I heard, yeah," the tiger nodded, seemingly unimpressed by the arrival of the guy who ran the entire business, "I also heard you need a man."

Ken's ears jumped a little, listening to the tiger's cocky, deeply graveling tone. He seemed to be a no-nonsense kind of a guy, this one, he thought, giving him an once-over. Clad in workpants and shoes and a jacket, he noted, a trim man with no signs of chronic beer abuse around the midriff, he noted, healthy furs. Teeth seemed white enough. No obvious signs of the kind of misbehavior that would lead into trouble in the construction site. He'd seen too many drunkards in his day to care to pay for any of them, even if they did do their jobs well when they were sober. You never knew when they were going to show up feeling the after-effects of a boozer.

"My foreman for this site is ill," Ken replied in a level tone, "I need an immediate replacement for what might be up to six weeks, running this site."

"Well I was looking at the plans..." the new tiger waved his paw towards the papers on the desk, "it looks like you're on schedule but seems that there's been some issues..."

"Those papers are confidential," Ken replied curtly, "everything there is confidential information regarding the company and its business."

"Sure," the tiger sounded bored, "I was just saying that there'd been some material issues, apparently."

"The tiles," Jerome cut in," the bathroom tiles weren't quite what we hoped. We had to redo one of the houses."

"Seems awfully sloppy..." the tiger replied.

"Supplier error," Ken grunted. "You're not here to tile bathrooms, though. The insulation guys are coming in today to blow the stuff into the ceilings and the walls, I need someone to supervise that work."

"Oh I've done plenty of that," the new tiger replied, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned onto the table again, hip resting on it while he seemed to affect a professional pose.

"What have you done exactly?" Ken interjected.

"Everything that involves a hammer," the tiger swept the air with a paw as if hitting an imaginary nail onto a plank, "been doing this for 20 years now."

"And why come here?" Ken demanded.

The newcomer shrugged.

"Everyone's building here," he said, "everyone needs a good man."

Ken let out an involuntary chuckle. Why did it really feel like there was a strange echo going on?

"So you know about insulation?"

"I know about everything," the tiger said not so modestly, his tail tapping the foot of the table, "like I said, been doing this for a long time."

"And he's free," the wolf noted from the sidelines, "for now."

"For the time being," the tiger rumbled, "I was thinking of taking some time off after my latest gig but if there's a long opening here, I wouldn't mind the extra cash."

"Four to six weeks, Glen said," Jerome mused, "but who knows when he can really come back."

"If it comes to it, I'll finish these up for you," the tiger sounded confident, speaking up like that, "the care home was a big project, this is nothing compared to that. Three houses..."

Ken's fur's bristled a little as he heard his MAJOR construction project be brushed away as "nothing" by this arrogant cat. He really didn't like that kind of an attitude going on, especially not from someone he might have to hire to get these very same nothings built and ready to go.

"Three houses that have already been reserved by three pretty darn rich families who want their own houses in this up and coming suburb," Ken responded, affecting some of his salesman voice, a result of a lot of practice, too, "and they're pretty damn eager for me to slap the keys in their awaiting paws."

"So then we'll finish them up in time," the tiger clapped his paws together, "I'll do it if you like."

"Well hold on for a moment yet," Ken raised a paw, "I'd like to see some recommendations if you have any, for starters, I'm just not about to let anyone walk in here and start directing my building site."

The tiger shrugged, looking bored as he unzipped his jacket and pushed a paw inside it.

"He's worked for Williams and Andersen a swell," the wolf said.

"Id like to see something on paper for that," Ken replied, "I don't have the time to phone everyone to ask about - "

"Adam Harding," the new tiger purred with some pleasure as he pulled out a neatly folded stack of A4s from his pocket. "And here's everything you need to see that I'm actually not a bad man planning to steal a truckload of insulation shit."

Ken took the offered sheets of paper from the tiger's outstretched paw and spent a few moments scrutinizing over them, leafing through them and navigating some horrible paw writing as well some small print that seemed awfully hard to read with his sleep-deprived eyes.

"Well...well..." he clicked his tongue once he had made some headway, "you do pay your taxes..."

"Even if I vote for the Republicans," the tiger chuckled, a deep, grinding sound, that.

Ken's ears flickered, but he decided not to pay any particular attention to the remark.

"And you have indeed worked for a few companies here..." the tiger had to concede after reading the letters of recommendations adorned with familiar signatures from...indeed...good men.

"Had no complaints," the tiger flashed a confident smile, "just gimme what I need and I'll do what you want me to do."

"It's more what we need you to do," Jerome replied, "like you said, three houses, and we have to stay on our schedule if we want to make the ends meet."

"Ohhh?" the tiger chuckled, that same, grating noise that made Ken's ears tingle, "so one of those businesses where you have to sell the houses off to cover the costs of building them in the first place...."

"Our business is none of yours," Ken replied, "my business, that is. I'm the owner."

"I got that," the tiger replied.

"So, as long as you get your paycheck, you should only worry about doing what I tell you," Ken replied.

The tiger clasped his paw together, a sound that was especially loud in the confines of the small trailer office.

"So give me something to worry about and I will show you what I can do," the tiger smirked.

Ken felt acutely annoyed, mostly at the tiger, but mostly at the fact that he seemed to be his only choice for now.

"Would you be available for a week of a trial period after which we'll see if we will continue working with you?" he bit back any more harsher remarks he might've come up with, and instead attempted to stay professional.

"Sure, this was meant to be my holiday, anyway, so if you give me the boot, I know where I'll be going," the tiger winked before offering his paw, "shall we agree on that?"

Ken eyes the offered paw with suspicion, but he knew that he was out of options this time around.

"Alright," he said, "we'll see how it goes and take it from there."

The younger tiger once again wrestled his knuckles during their pawshake, and Ken wasn't sure this was such a good idea.

"Alright," he said, "Jerome, do you have any time left?"

"About fifteen minutes maybe?" the wolf replied sourly.

"Alright," Ken said, "let's, uh, let's all take a quick tour and then...is Donovan here?"

"Sure, he's on number 12," the wolf replied.

"Alright, Donovan knows most of the stuff around here, anyway, so we have someone here who's on the site on all times," Ken explained, "get you the big picture."

"I'd like that, sure!" the tiger grinned. "Kenneth."

Ken's tail bristled.

"How about it's boss for now on?" he said. "Harding."

"And here I was just going to ask you to call me Adam," the tiger replied, "I don't do titles much."

Ken's brain sneered a little at the tiger's seemingly deliberate disregard for respect, but let it go for now.

"Harding and boss," he said, "And...Jerome...shall we go?"

"Sure, sure, we better take the tour before the truck comes," the wolf replied.

"Off we go then," Ken declared while he unfolded his vest from his arm and began to slip it on, "we've got three houses to cover."

"Lead on," the new tiger grinned, "boss."

"Hmppph," Ken breathed out.

*

Ken was hungry, thirsty, his stomach was churning from too much coffee and too much talk with bankers, and he also needed to take a piss something serious. His paws thrummed the steering wheel nervously while he stared at the ass end of a Nissan in front of him on the road, yawned, and told himself for the Nth time to keep going.

What a day, he thought, huffing so that it tightened the collar of his shirt uncomfortable around his neck. He spared a paw to pop the top button and loosen his tie, a horrible striped thing he'd pop on earlier before heading to talk with the bank manager. At least that had gone well, he thought with no little measure of satisfaction. The profits from the latest sale and the options for the Crillewood site had looked very good in the raccoon's eyes and made it easier to discuss the terms of re-arranging his debts. He didn't even want to think of the amount of money he was shuffling around on an endless game of buying, fixing, selling, borrowing and repaying, and on any other given day, he enjoyed every second of the thrill.

Today he just wanted to go home, fry the steak waiting in the fridge, open a beer and forget all his woes for the night. It was already getting dark, too...damn winters, he thought, as the red flights on the Nissan in front of him flashed.

Why did everyone have to be so slow today?

"Buuuh," Ken huffed, rubbing his sore, tense neck.

Lights were burning on the construction site once he finally arrived, to find the place mostly deserted by now. Someone was still doing some sweeping nearby, he saw, but besides that, the halogens were shining on an empty yard littered with a few old planks and sawdust. The thick plastic sheeting covering the already erected walls from moisture rustled in the wind that made the tiger's furs bristle. He'd forgotten his coat...humph.

Lights were on in the trailer office, however, and his bounce up the stairs brought him into the small coffee- filled room, lit by the table lamp, and sitting in front of it was the tiger again, looking at some papers and one paw resting on top of a pocket calculator.

"Well, evening!" the seated one greeted from his court.

Ken nodded briefly, barely inside the room with one paw fumbling behind him to close the door to keep the elements out. It was warm inside, and smelled of coffee, and tiger. The seated cat had a mug sitting on the desk, too, looking quite at home there, almost too much so.

"Good evening," Ken forced himself to smile.

"Someone's dapper," the cat noted, watching the boss stand there by the door. "Not exactly worksite gear though."

Ken harrumphed. Whatever the tiger knew about construction, he seemed to lack in tact. He was the one who signed his paycheck, after all.

"Sometimes I have to go and meet the big cats," Ken replied briefly. "It's part of the job."

"By all means," the tiger rumbled.

"So what's the word from here?" Ken demanded as he stepped closer to the table, feeling the sudden urge to assert his territory. The tiger seemed so very cozy sitting there, the king of the hill for now, he looked like.

"What should it be?" the tiger's brow quirked as he followed Ken's every move, "we got a right old blowjob here alright."

The tiger snickered, leaving Ken feel surprisingly dirty, even though a lifetime spent on construction sites and around construction workers had probably filled his brain with more profanity than even a sailor could accumulate. Somehow the tiger had managed to make the remark sound especially dirty. Maybe it was the slight slurping sound his tongue made after his comment.

"I see," Ken harrumphed.

The tiger chuckled and shook his head, then proceeding to rake his finger slowly and obviously lovingly through his own head furs.

"I think I've got some stuck in my furs even if wore full Tyvek gear..."

"How did it go?"

"Well, we got the first one done," the tiger said, "put the films in, too, so that insulation is now all safe and sound. They're coming at nine tomorrow morning to do the next one. They're sending the bill to you once it's all done. I've got the hours for today here...yes...here..."

The tiger pulled out a paper from the small pile by his coffee mug and dangled it in the air briefly before Ken picked it and gave it a quick look.

"Seems to match to what I was asking for and what was promised," Ken said, "alright, if they take this long with the rest, it seems to be alright."

"I'd say they were doing a pretty swift job with it, considering that attic is quite tricky," the tiger commented while leaning back on the chair, "but we handled it alright, I think. Got a sharp bunch working here."

"I only hire good men," Ken replied, "men I know."

The seated tiger chuckled.

"Then you're taking a risk here, aren't you, boss?" the tiger stretched out his paws above his head while rumbling lazily. "You don't know me at all...do you..."

Ken snorted.

"Good men know you," he said, "I did phone Cabot."

"How's the old man doing?" the tiger smirked.

"Fine," Ken said, "he said you did a good job on that gas station renovation."

"I think it turned out alright," the tiger said smugly while flexing his paws, still holding them above his head, "even though the landscaping guys had the biggest problem. All that toxic soil..."

"That's not an issue here," Ken said, "our only issue is staying on schedule."

"And I intend to, if you give me the chance, boss," the tiger rumbled. "We're doing good work here."

"Well I was not implying that you aren't," Ken said, "not that I have inspected it yet..."

The tiger's ears flicked back and forth.

"Why do you think I'm in to ruin everything for you?"

"I don't know you," Ken said simply.

"Well there's nothing more to me than what you see!" the tiger's voice was suddenly raised. "Adam Harding, 36, twenty years of experience, six months in this city, and I'm a damn hard worker and I want to go somewhere with it. And I see that you want, too."

"Why do you think I'm cautious?" Ken bristled. "I've got almost everything I own tied down on these projects at any given time, if one of them is fucked up by inaptitude, it might lead into everything going to waste! My everything going to waste!"

"Oh don't you worry boss," the tiger chortled, "Mrs Boss will have her diamonds and Caribbean holidays once these houses are sold."

Ken growled.

"I'm not married," he grunted, "It's my money."

"So buy diamonds for yourself," the tiger said.

Ken snorted, his fingers curling so that he almost ruined the receipt he was still holding in them. Something in the tiger's manner was making him bristle seriously...causing some kind of an itch...annoying him to high hell, and the tiger was only...speaking his mind, really. There wasn't anything particularly offensive in anything he said, but the way the words were delivered...it got him right under his skin.

"Right now I'm going to go check number 10 for the work done there, then I'm going home," Ken said.

"Need I join you in there, boss, to point it out?"

"I think I'll know my way," Ken huffed, "you lock up the place here when you're ready doing whatever you were doing."

"I was simply calculating the amount of insulation film we need to order," the tiger replied, "we don't have enough for all the houses."

"What?" Ken's ears jumped.

The tiger shrugged.

"I did a few calculations, we have barely enough for number 12, but there's none for number 16. We used much more of the film than we thought we would."

Ken grunted. That wasn't cheap.

"So where you using too much then, huh?" he glared at the seated cat.

"No, we were doing everything by the standard," the tiger replied as he pulled out a sheet of paper scribbled with numbers, "but looks like the order has been underestimated. We need much more."

"How much more?"

The tiger flipped the paper over and stomped a padded finger over the figures.

"Here."

Ken glimpsed down and snorted.

"Damnit."

"Do you have a regular supplier? Cotton's? Danish Star? Wendell?"

"Danish Star," Ken grumbled as fresh waves of self-loathing started to seep into his mind. It was his fault, really, he had made the inquiries to the insulation company and approved the order for the insulation film, too...he had fucked up.

And it was the new, smug tiger pointing it out to him, seemingly eager to show his skills in bus in construction site management. Such a glaring error was really a nuisance. If anyone else had done it, Ken would've been sure to give them a mauling over it...but it was him...and it didn't even surprise him anymore. He had so many things going on...and not enough money coming in to warrant or allow him to hire someone to keep everything in check.

"I can call in the morning," the tiger said, "have it delivered here by the afternoon so that we'll be all set for number 14."

"I'll do it," Ken said as he tossed the now crumbled piece of paper down onto the desk.

"If you insist, boss," the tiger grinned, swiveling from side to side on the rotating chair.

"Yes, I do," Ken growled. "And now I'm going to check number 10 and then I'm out."

"Suit yourself..." the tiger rumbled, "wait, you already are! Heh!"

Ken let out a "humph!" and pounced out of the trailer, feeling like he needed some fresh, cool air. The tiger's mannerisms and his own anger over his blunder had made his cheeks warm up to an uncomfortable level not suitable for big cats running their own property development businesses.

His breath made mist in the air, illuminated by the glare of the halogen worklights flooding the cold ground.

He stomped down the walkway with a rapid snap to his tail behind him, trailing the cat about.

*

Thank you for reading! I hope you had a good time, and I look forward to reading your comments! Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!

Cheers!