Revised Fishsticks and Ambrosia

“Fishyy! Here, Fishy-Fishy!” The girl’s voice echoed across the house, accompanied by the alluring rattle of little biscuits being shaken in a bag. Little paws scampered across the floor as Fishsticks bolted toward the sound with an excited meow, surprisingly quick for her size. The girl made some delighted noises as she retrieved a biscuit from the bag. “Aww! Wawa, nomnom!” Fishsticks couldn’t understand much of what the girl said; all she knew was that “Here, Fishy-Fishy” often meant it was time for a delicious treat. As Fishsticks munched on the biscuit, she suddenly found herself being wrapped in some strange cloth. Though she was confused, she didn’t fight back as the girl struggled to tie a string around Fishsticks’ hefty waist. Whatever she had done, the girl was clearly delighted with her work. She clapped her hands and pulled out the glowing rectangle she always had in front of her face. Fishsticks didn’t really care about what the girl was doing. She was too busy licking her lips to savor every last bit of the biscuit. The rest of the following night was a lot more eventful than Fishsticks was used to. Instead of being able to peacefully laze around in her cushy bed, her slumber was constantly interrupted by people banging on the door. Typically, the girl would avoid answering the door at all costs. But tonight, she was strangely happy about it. She would open the door and pass out treats to unfamiliar children wearing absurd clothes. Sometimes the children would spot Fishsticks through the door and point excitedly. At first, Fishsticks was equally as excited to see them. She would meow at them and attempt to squeeze past the girl’s legs to greet them. But as the night went on, she lost interest. At most, she would just lazily lift her head and meow at them from her bed before grooming her orange fur and rolling over. As the night went on, the children appeared less frequently. Fishsticks didn’t mind. It just meant she could finally get some sleep. But as the girl opened the door once again, a thought crossed Fishsticks’ mind. “... Moon at its highest… Almost time…”