Meat Witch: Fantasy

Sausages swayed from their hooks, dangling teasingly just out of reach. Mrowr looked up at them and narrowed his eyes. His ears flattened against his head, and his tail lashed. He wiggled down to his haunches, bunched his muscles, sprang--and was caught in mid-air by a delicate hand that gripped the scruff of his neck with surprising strength. "Oh, no you don't," she said, raising him to eye level and locking gazes with him. "I have a special customer in mind for those sausages, and you aren't it." Unexpectedly, she giggled. Mrowr's ears pricked forward. Giggling usually meant that he was safe from a beating. "Though it would be a sight to see you prowling after Lady Moray as if she were a cat in heat."


Inspiration: A bizarre dream I had a few nights ago.
Story Potential: High.
Finished Length: ?
Notes: I'm enthralled by the idea of a dainty and delicate butcher who is also a meat witch. Meat witch! It's funny in that good sort of this-could-be-interesting way. Hmm. Maybe a bit steam-punky. Grittier than this opening implies, but still funny and sweet occasionally. Not a sanitized fantasy-land, though. I mean, meat witch!