“You’ll have to run faster than that to catch me, dear fellow!” Jeminiah taunted as he vaulted over a shopkeep’s stool. He spared a glance over his shoulder to see a burly and daunting figure hunker down and plow through the stool with reckless abandon, pieces of wood flying everywhere.

A small shiver ran down his spine as Jeminiah turned back around and focused his efforts on escape. Jeminiah called back nervously, yet not without a sarcastic spirit. “And you did! Splendid!”

His lungs had begun to ache as he booked it through the market. Jeminiah had to admit that the career he had chosen had kept him in shape. Though this time he was facing a true behemoth. Jeminiah feared he might not be able to outrun the giant who was chasing him. He would have to resort to another source of escape.

Jeminiah took a deep breath, releasing it through a sprint. Pulling out one of the few magical items he kept on his person, he threw it to the ground. The marketplace filled with noxious, choking, smoke. Jeminiah covered his face with his tattered coat sleeve, stifling his coughs as best as he could. Arguments and screams echoed all around him as he confused not only his pursuer but a dozen innocent citizens.

With the clear distraction, Jeminiah slipped into the nearest alley and followed it back as far as he could go, staying close to the shadows of the wall. Now he had to make sure that no Finishers would be after him for his little magic trick.

It took a few minutes for the thick smoke to clear. Still, Jeminiah remained plastered to the wall. After another few moments of quiet, he let out a low chuckle. Yet another near-miss for Jeminiah Criket.

Seeing no immediate danger in the recesses of this muck-filled alley, Jeminiah began to make his way back to the street. As he stepped from the wall, he noticed something strange. A small chirping noise emanated from deeper down this dead-end path. Jeminiah’s head turned to face it, expecting a bird.

He stepped closer to the sound.

Remnants of the smoke he caused lingered in the air, twirling in faint swirls that danced in his vision. Jeminiah squinted through it, his curiosity getting the better of him.

At first, he saw nothing. He began to turn around, chalking it up to a strange bird perching above. The tiniest hint of movement in the very back of the alley caught his eye. Jeminiah’s head tilted sideways as he took a step toward it. Cautiously, he made his way to the back of the alley. The chirping noise halted as he came closer. Squinting, he tried to find the source of the movement.

The alley was still.

“Hello?” Jeminiah spoke quietly. He felt strangely vulnerable talking to an invisible presence.

At the sound of his voice, a shape emerged from the mud. Jeminiah lept back. The chirping sound returned, this time far more frantic. Jeminiah watched the shape wriggle in place, unable to make an exit, but seemingly terrified. He watched for a moment, realizing there was little danger to him, he cautiously knelt down.

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The creature chirped angrily, yet Jeminiah reached out anyway.

He slowly wiped the mud from the top of the amorphous shape. It appeared to be stuck to the mud. He assumed if he could clear the mud from it, it would be able to make its escape.

As he pushed mud off of it, he was alerted by the strange blue color underneath. The shape let out another quiet beep, relaxing slightly as Jeminiah began to scoop the viscous mud away from the creature underneath. It didn’t take long for him to realize that this shape wasn’t one of an animal.

Jeminiah was looking at a hat.

It was light blue, mud still smeared into the fabric texture making it look dull. In the style of a fedora, there was a yellow ribbon circling the base. From the back, the ends of the ribbon hung off in long tendrils, which were still currently stuck and plastered to the ground in odd shapes. Jeminiah let out a confused sigh.

“You’ve puzzled me, friend.” He spoke aloud again. Wondering if he had been captured earlier and this was just a torture-induced hallucination. “Here, let me.”

He leaned down and pried the hat from the tacky mud. It was still in pretty bad shape. He heard another chirp, this time he was certain that it was emanating from the hat in his hands. Having lifted it up, he inspected it for any tricks, or markings, or even a collar signifying some sort of owner.

It appeared to be just a hat.

“You’re very strange,” Jeminiah whispered to himself, trying to figure out the puzzle.

The hat let out a loud chirp. A yellow tendril slid up slowly from the weight of the mud that still clung to it. It reached out and slapped Jeminiah’s arm with a hefty thud, apparently offended by his jab. With a small yelp, he dropped the hat back to the ground out of reflex. It chirped quietly in dismay.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” He picked the hat back up from the ground. “This is a strange experience,” he corrected for the sake of the hat, “I’m not quite sure what is even happening.”

The hat let out a small coo.

“Well, my name is Jeminiah Criket. Would you…would you like me to get you clean?”

After a second of silence, the hat made a sound of affirmation.

He let out a small sigh of recognition. “I have a few people on the lookout for me, hat. Would you mind if I put you on until we got to my abode to help obscure my face?”

After another moment of silence, a squeak of approval came out of its being.

“Alright, um, thank you.” Jeminiah slowly put the creature on his head. The cold mud that was left on it clung to him, but the brim would definitely help keep his face under a shadow. At least until he could make it back home.

The hat chirped an acknowledgment. Jeminiah stood for a moment, unsure if he could really go through with such an odd situation. Still, he couldn’t exactly leave the hat here in the mud. It was obviously unhappy here. Perhaps an extra pair of eyes could be helpful.

“Very well. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Jeminiah laughed to himself quietly, still unsure about whether or not this was a real event. “What should I call you, then? ‘Hat’ or ‘Little Hat’ or ‘Hattie’ or-?”

The hat chirped excitedly at the last suggestion, cutting him off.

“Hattie?”

An excited chirp of confirmation.

“Are you a lady hat?”

There was another small coo.

“Very well, then. Hattie it is.”

Jeminiah let out a contented sigh. He would get to safety, clean up Hattie, and then let her decide what she wanted from there. Of course, a sentient hat would certainly be destroyed if it was discovered by a Finisher. The taboo made Jeminiah like this hat a little more. Perhaps Hattie would decide she’d like to stay with him. She could certainly help alert him to dangerous people after him.

He stepped out of the alley. Hattie twisted ever-so-slightly to keep his face obscured. Jeminiah grinned under the mud-covered brim. Perhaps this would be the start of a lovely friendship.