(Late spring, 1986, Atterberry Ranch, Ireland)

Warmth.

Cosiness.

I was taking a nap, draped across a windowsill. I was a cat right now. We didn't have any small cats on the ranch, but Mom showed me a book with pictures. I couldn't read, I couldn't even understand most words, but I got the concept. It was a very good form for napping.

“Art, ҉̴̪̽Ɨ̶̬̩͌҉̶̹͔̀̄҉̵͙͂̃Ŧ̷̤̻̈͊҉̷̮͒'̵̤̓҉̷̗̜̌̍Ş̶̜̽҉̸̯̰̂̀ ̶̛̖̆҉̵́̽͜Ŧ̶̧̌҉̸͉̏҉̸̻̻̆̕Ɨ̶̨͇͊͗҉̶̛̬҉̸̡̱͑͗Μ̶͕͉͒҉̷̞̠̍҉̵̡̕€̶̪̓́ͅ҉̶̻͠ ̶̛͔̲͠҉̴̲̤͗̈́₣̵̥̹̓̆҉̵̨͑̄҉̸̢̲̾Ø̷̮̝̇҉̸̘͊҉̵͚̃͑Ř̵̤̦̏̈҉̵̜͚̄ ̶̲̓̂͜҉̵̜̉͘Ŧ̷͍̃҉̸̹͈̏҉̴͈̣͐̄Ħ̵̗̞̏҉̶͚͘҉̷͕͠€̴̻̆҉̸̝̾ afternoon chores!”

Oh, nap time finished! Mom called me, to go follow her as she does the things between lunch and dinner. I bounded off the windowsill and towards her legs, receiving affectionate skritches at my arrival. After having my fill, I jumped into the air, transformed into a starling(small-bird) mid leap, and fluttered onto her shoulder.

She giggled as I nuzzled her cheek. “҉̵̟͑Δ̸̹́҉̴̻̂҉̷̭̌Ł̸̬͌҉̸̣͊҉̴̜̿Ł̵̖̀҉̴̥̉ ̵̗͒҉̶̲̎Ř̵͚͝҉̷̳̅҉̵͕͒Ɨ̸̗͝҉̶͙̚҉̵̫̓Ǥ̴̰̃҉̵͍̈҉̴̼̆Ħ̷̤̕҉̷̔ͅ҉̶̗͠Ŧ̸͚̌҉̸͙̈́,̸̫͛ ̷̪̂҉̵̰̿Ŧ̴͈̕҉̵̭̚҉̵̼̎Ħ̴͕̋҉̷͕̋҉̷͎̔Δ̴̱̎҉̶͙͝҉̴̭̀Ŧ̴̫͆҉̴̣̎'̶̦̇҉̸̥̒Ş̷̗̑҉̷̯̀ ̵͉̈́҉̶͛͜€̵̤̂҉̷̻̌҉̵̗͛Ň̷̥̕҉̴̠̑҉̴̦̌Ø̵̯͝҉̴̠̇҉̶̜̇Ữ̵͚̈҉̴̢̽҉̶̢̎Ǥ̸̤̋҉̶͚͝҉̵̞̌Ħ̶̙̄҉̴͝ͅ ̸̧̋҉̵̧̄Ø̷̠̀҉̶͈̎҉̴̤̿₣̶̟͐҉̵͚͂ ̷̪̇҉̴̓͜¥̸͇̒҉̵͖́҉̴͙̉Ø̵̊ͅ҉̴̯̏҉̷͓̉Ữ̶̺̓҉̸̜̅҉̶̻͛Ř̷̳̏҉̸̤́ ̷͍͑҉̷͜͝Δ̷͈̂҉̵̳͐҉̷͍̎Ň̵͓̂҉̵̢́҉̵̳̂Ŧ̵̠͒҉̷̧̊҉̵̦͐Ɨ̷̨́҉̸̟̈́҉̶̛̥Ć̷̩̾҉̵̘̆҉̶͝ͅŞ̴̩̅҉̵̹̀, little one. ҉̵̙̼͗Ŵ̷͔̂҉̴͚̐҉̶̟́€̷̀̊ͅ҉̴̨̖͋ ̶̡̪̃҉̵̺̈́̿Ħ̴̧͐҉̶̜̩̒̋҉̴͔̝̊Δ̸̘͊҉̶̨͖͆҉̶̯̕V̴̦̑̄҉̸͍͑͐҉̴̳̀͜€̸̩́͊҉̸̹̓̄ ̵̧͌҉̸̭͈̈͝Ŵ̴̟̓̚҉̷̘̔́҉̶̘͌͜Ø̵̹̹̏̊҉̶̢̿̓҉̷̖̚Ř̶͖̥͑҉̵͎̭̊҉̵̼͉͋̾Ҝ̶̭̋̈́҉̵̯̆͊ ̸̘̀̇҉̷͖̿̽Ŧ̴͕̘̂҉̸̞͛͘҉̸̖͆́͜Ø̶̟͠҉̵̰̠̑͝ ̸̻͓̇҉̵̛̜̮Đ̴̞̈́҉̷̥͝҉̴͈̈̄Ø̵̘̠͝҉̶̟̽.”

With me on her shoulder, she walked through the house, past the now unlit fireplace, and out into the cold Irish air. It wasn't as cold as it used to be. It changed everyday, but on average it was getting warmer.

Pleasantly, today seemed like it was the warmest day yet. All the birds were out and singing, the bees were buzzing, and Mom was walking towards the barn in the same ground eating strides she always uses.

Barns were another thing Mom had taught me with picture books. Barns were the buildings on ranches that housed the ranch animals. But this was a magical ranch, with magic creatures. So our barn wasn't exactly normal.

Our barn was a massive hole in the ground, the width and depth of a grand coliseum carved into the earth. It had a spiralling ramp that circled around its edges, and built into those edges were massive stone arches. Each arch had some sort of magic-portal-or-something connecting it to a different climate. At the end of the ramp in the middle of the spiral there was a basin that collected rain water.

We didn't visit each of the arches everyday, presumably because the creatures could mostly take care of themselves. Today's afternoon was thunderbird day, which was one of my favourites. We had one thunderbird on the ranch and her name was Mercy. She lived on the second to last loop of the spiral. Her arches lead to a dry rocky place with stout shrubbery and lots of red cliffs.

As we approached the arch, Mom opened the saddlebag at her hip and started rifling through it. By the time she finished we were on the other side of the arch, atop a cliff overlooking the Mesa that was Mercy's home. Mom had a special way she preferred to greet Mercy. From her bottomless bag she took a foldable stool, a cello, and a bow stringed with hair. At this point I had to move off of Mom's shoulder, but that was fine because the next bit was the best part.

With her instruments in hand she started playing a sombre song, each slow note just barely eclipsing the last as the song grew in volume. In the distance I could see thunderclouds approaching, and deep rumblings could be heard emanating from them. With an unnatural speed the storm front flew towards us, until after only a couple of minutes we were surrounded on all sides by a raging tempest. As I buckled in the wind, a literally thunderous chorus joined my mother's performance.

Together they formed a beautiful harmony. One that seemed to swallow the whole world around it, blotting out the sun, and sundering the sky.

Eventually the song reached its finale, and we were in the eye of the storm as it crescendoed. With great grandeur Mercy descended from the screaming heavens, slowly flapping her enormous wings as she spewed off lightning in her wake.

With perfect timing the song reached its conclusion right as Mercy landed. As always it was a dazzling and awe inspiring experience.

With a few flicks of her wand Mom floated her things back into her bottomless bag, and with a second few flicks she dried the two of us off. After packing her things she approached Mercy, who had been waiting patiently.

“Good afternoon, Mercy. Art ҉̵̭̰͝Δ̵͍̒̑ͅ҉̶̾͜҉̵̦̺̒͌Ň̵̛̜̉҉̸͇̋҉̵̭̝̔Đ̷͔͓͝҉̴͈̌ ̸̙̎҉̶̹͑̈́Ɨ̶̡̈̍҉̵̖̊̋ ̵͓̈҉̵͈̉͒Δ̸͕̓̚҉̸̢̉҉̸̱́Ř̴̬̓͠҉̷̫͌̀҉̵̹͓̐̀€̵̟̌͝҉̴͔̋ ̷̼̚҉̴̤͑͜Ħ̵̳̘̓҉̶̯̲͘҉̵͈̥͆€̸̋̚ͅ҉̴̡̇͘҉̵̖͌͠Ř̸͇̑͜҉̵͇̑҉̸̧͖͌́€̴̖̀̍҉̸̙̈́ͅ ̶͇̉͋҉̴̼̊̀ͅΔ̴̨̪͝҉̷̢͙̑̈́҉̷̤̑̽Ǥ̸̘̇͐҉̸̪̅͑҉̴̫͐Δ̴̜̔҉̸̨̣̍͒҉̷̖͊Ɨ̸̧̑̉Ņ̴̲̌͛҉̶.” she said as she petted the beak of the bird that was her height and half again. Mercy cooed lightly as she leaned into the touch. Eventually they sat on the floor together, cradling me between them.

Mercy was probably the nicest animal on the ranch. Plenty of others were friendly, but Mercy was much more kind and gentle than the others.

As we cuddled I shifted from my starling form into my cuddle form, which was my ever evolving attempt to create the fluffiest cuddle monster imaginable. It was like a cat, but bigger, and made out of tentacles!

Okay, admittedly it wasn't much like a cat at all. The face was just two golf ball sized moth eyes with fake antennae that were more for tickling faces than smelling, and the fur was actually fox tail fur that I made even fluffier and recoloured white. That's not even touching on the skeletal structure, which I had to rework from the ground up.

I wrapped the three of us together with a dozen fluffy tentacles, and pulled us into the bestest hug I could.

It took a lot of time and effort to design, but this was worth it! I revelled in the moment, letting giddy joy send pleasant tingles down my dozen spines. Mom giggled in delight at my enthusiastic cuddles, and Mercy chirped in amusement as I purred.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

As all good things eventually do, the cuddles came to an end. Mom and I had more critters to check on, and I knew that I would see Mercy again some day soon. Usually Mom didn't do much when visiting the animals. Just checking their health, and for some of the more lonely creatures she would help by doing the grooming that they couldn't do by themselves. That's what Mom used to do with Mercy, but now I help groom Mercy instead! Apparently it's much easier to do when you can spontaneously grow a dozen extra limbs to help. Who would've thought?

After leaving the thunderbird's arch, we started walking back up the ramp. At about half way up the spiral Mom, with me on her shoulder, entered one of the arches. The inside of this one was a forest filled with a middling spacing of trees and bushes. Cutting through the middle of the forest was a stone path that Mom followed, and at the end of the path was a pond that had a small tree sticking out of its centre. Unlike the other trees in the forest this tree had a smoother and brighter bronze coloured bark.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Upon reaching the pond, Mom took out her wand and murmured a few words of incantation. At the wave of her wand two things happened. The first was that around her feet all the grass grew buds and bloomed flowers. The second thing that happened was that the tree in the pond turned into a snake. The snake had the same bark as the tree as its skin, and the branches of the tree adorned its head like antlers.

It slithered through the pond and sniffed the flowers near my Mom's feet. She backed up and circled around it as it started to eat the flowers. Content with what she saw, she started walking back to the entrance arch.

That was how most of the checkups went. Mom would walk into one of the arches, either attract or track down the critter inside, inspect them, then leave. We did this four times a day, two after breakfast, and two after lunch. There didn't seem to be any sort of schedule to which Mom decided to visit, but there were a couple of patterns that I could make out.

I noticed that Mom didn't always bring me with her, and that she had never visited any of the arches lower than Mercy's. I also noticed that we visited Mercy twice for each row on the calendar. Once on the second day and again on the sixth day!

After we had finished this afternoon's checkups, we moved onto the other chores of the ranch. We had several different types of livestock, and all of them needed feeding twice per day. Except on farming days, then they only got fed one big time in the morning.

Feeding the farm animals was even faster than visiting that tree snake. Mom went to the storage shed, then used some magic to float the animal feed behind her. With the food in tow she went from the shed to each of the feeding troughs, depositing food along as she went.

As she did all that I was flying around. Looking at the small herds from my bird's eye view, as they converged on the cowsheds at the inner edges of each group's enclosures.

Mom didn't let me fly when we visited the arches. I did so anyway once, and ended up having to crawl my way out of the mouth of a frog that I had thought was a log. Mom seemed very relieved when I pried its mouth open from the inside.

Anyways, after that… incident I don't fly inside the barn anymore. I could easily imagine how it would be much harder to escape the jaws of one of the bigger critters we visited, better safe than sorry.

But Mom was fine with me flying outside, after all it was perfectly sa—

I cried out in pain with my little bird lungs as half a dozen sharp somethings dug into my back. Adrenaline tore through my system, numbing the pain into something more manageable. With a thought my tiny bird body bloated as I sprouted a dozen jaggedly armoured tentacles, each a dark grey in colour and half my mother's height in length.

Moments later half my tentacles slammed into the ground like spears, bending as they broke my fall. At the same time my other half a dozen limbs restricted my prey. It was a kestrel, a type of falcon.

I snapped its head clean off, before tossing both head and body into my waiting maw. Inside my now much larger but still beaked mouth, I shredded the bird to bits, quickly integrating its biomass into my reserve.

Now, as I was thinking before I was so kindly interrupted, Mom let me fly outside because it was perfectly safe. Presumably she didn't know if I could dismantle creatures like that tree snake the same as I could that snack.

Like a giant spider, I skittered out of the field I landed in. One easy jumped fence later and I was at Mom's feet, presenting all the prettiest feathers the kestrel had on it by growing them in a coat over my body. I looked up at her, and she patted my head as she said some words.

“Yes, Art. ҉̶̨̋̍Ŧ̴̲́̕҉̵͙̻̑҉̵̣̠̎͘Ħ̴̛̯̣͠҉̷͉̟̅҉̸̯̫̚Δ̶̣̅҉̴̮̋̍҉̸̭͐Ŧ̸̞̣̃͝ bird̶ ʏ̴̞͋ő̵̠ʊ̴̧͘ ̷͙̿҉̷̜͔͋Μ̶̱̄҉̷̬͗͌҉̷͔̳́͛Ữ̸̼͈̌҉̴̯̪͊̎҉̴̝̹͋͑Ř̸̳͙̃͋҉̸̙͎̓҉̵̲͘Đ̶̨̹̈́҉̷̧̋҉̶̧͔̿€̴̖̀҉̶͔̈́̃҉̸̫̕Ř̶̘͍͐̊҉̸̧̕҉̷͝ͅ€̶̰͔̇͗҉̴͍̙̅҉̶̡̹͋Đ̷͚̜̾̃҉̴͎͍́͑ ̴̥̮̔҉̶̰́Đ̴̡͉͒͝҉̴̥̔҉̶̆͜Ɨ̴̦̮̾҉̸̺̚҉̶̩̙̈Đ̶̘͔̅҉̶̨͉͋ ̴̛̯҉̸̘̙͗Ɨ̵͋Ň̵̙̭́҉̵̥̄҉̸̺̭͂Đ̶͚͆̿҉̷̯́̄҉̷̮͖͋€̸̜̑҉̴͎͆̆҉̵̖͊̿€̵͎̅̒҉̶̾Đ̵̝̆҉̵̳͈̏ ̵͎̂҉̷̰͉͊́Ħ̷̙̥͋̉҉̷̬̈́҉̴̳̒Δ̷̲̝̔҉̵̣̚҉̵͎̀V̸̝͗҉̶̦̌҉̴͑͗ͅ€̴͚͛͝҉̴̮̼͂ ̸̝͗҉̵̪͠Δ̵͉̏҉̵̢̟̒ ̵̭̃́҉̶̟͐V̵̳̓̔҉̶͖͎̑̊҉̵͚̊€̷̛͇͊҉̷̛̠̼̒҉̴̟̮͘Ř̶̟̇҉̴̠̱̈́҉̵̛̝̜¥̴͓̰̄̄҉̵͇̓͝ ̴̠̓҉̸̙̦̾Ň̸̡̥͝҉̷̪̇͌҉̷̪̊Ɨ̷̛̪҉̴̗͈̊҉̴̯̔͠Ć̵͈̜̂͊҉̵͈̏҉̷̼́€̵̢̇҉̶̇̄͜ ̶̪͍̾҉̷̠̄Ć̴͔̽̃҉̸̦̕͝҉̷̞͒Ø̴̈̈́͜҉̴̣̟̀҉̷͍͈͂̾Δ̷̛̣̳҉̸̹̏҉̵̣̪̎Ŧ̶͈̫̏̍҉̸̲͚͛͋ ̷͖̆҉̶̢̾͌Ø̵̤̊̎҉̵͖͈̽͠҉̷͉̿₣̸͚̙̄҉̷̛͚̙̊ ʄ̴̹̌ɛ̵͇͠ǟ̵͕͝ȶ̷̣̓ɦ̵̘͗ɛ̷̬̇rs̴̭̈́.” she said.

I leaned into the head pats some more at her approval. After a couple more pats she stopped and tapped her shoulder. In response I transformed back into a starling and joined her as she started to make her way back to the house.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Once we were back inside I jumped off Mom's shoulder, and transformed into the same black and white tuxedo cat form that I was napping in earlier. Mom had a no flying in the house rule put in place after I kept crashing into the furniture, flying outside just had so much more room for error that I always overestimated my agility indoors.

Crouching down Mom scratched that one spot behind my ears that I liked. She sighed before saying “O̸̩̎ӄ̷͉͊ǟ̸̫͠ʏ̵̰̾ ̸̻̅ӄ̵͕͊ɨ̴̟̇ɖ̷̱͆ɖ̸̰̕o̵̢̓,̶̜̻̅ ʍ̸͉̔ǟ̴͚͑ʍ̸̱̄ǟ̶̙̑ ̵̤͊͘҉̵̛̫̣͗Ň̴̯͆̆҉̴͈͝҉̴̳̻̈́̀€̶̭͐̀҉̷̛̟̐҉̸̡͍̀̾€̸̘͆̍҉̶͙̋҉̴̡̐Đ̶̘̪̅҉̷̹̦́҉̴͈̆͝Ş̴̮͗͠҉̷͍͊ ̴͖̃̔҉̴̝̹̑Ş̷̪̏͂҉̵̺̈̕҉̸̘̅̕Ø̵̟͚͗҉̴͉̼̅҉̴̨̗͂͑Μ̴͈̆҉̸̡̠̏҉̶͙̦͛€̶̼̒̓҉̷̮͇̑̎ ̵̟̐҉̶̰͌Δ̷̘̠̉͝҉̸̓̀ͅŁ̶̒̈́Ø̵̙̑̑҉̴͖̍Ň̴̝̫̈́€̵̡͖̓̅҉ ̷̖͛̒҉̷̞̻͝Ŧ̸̭̑̈́҉̵̰̓҉̶̟̒́Ɨ̴̦͈͊̄҉̴͍͍̃҉̵̧͓̑Μ̵̩͊҉̶̭͝҉̶͖̤̆̉€̴̼͂̌҉̶͔̒ ̴̢͓̅̚҉̶̥͈̾β̸̹̉҉̴͕̆҉̶̫̅€̷͙̔̆҉̸̖̼̆҉̵̼̈́₣̶͇͑̓҉̴̬͐Ø̴̡̇҉̴͕̌̅҉̷̙̎̔Ř̸̮̈҉̶͓͊̈́҉̶̛̼̥̆€̶̻̎͗҉̸̡̙͆ ̵̜̏̄҉̸̲͔͊̽Ş̵̩̜̓̚҉̶̣̌͊҉̷͈͌̔Ħ̸͉̆҉̴̻̟́͆҉̶̯̑̂€̶̮̝̊҉̸̡̾̓'̷̯̆̑҉̸̯̊͝Ş̶̤̌͝҉̵̢͐ ̵͕͒҉̸̡̝̄̕Ř̴̳̤̓҉̷̨̩́̊҉̶̘̍͑€̴͖̚҉̸̧̣̒҉̸̢̌̉Δ̶̐͑͜҉̶͎̝͗͛҉̷̪̥̆̚Đ̴̹͋̿҉̴̣̬͋̆҉̸̛̬̦¥̷̭̦́̿҉̵̲͖̆ ̶̺͑͒҉̵̛̛͇̬Ŧ̴͙͈͂҉̴̛̖̜҉̵̠̀͜͝Ø̷̮̀̉҉̷̼̄̔ ֆȶ̴͗͜ǟ̸̱͂ʀ̵̥͛ȶ̷̲͐ ̸̱̱̅҉̶͔̍̍Μ̶̦́҉̷̖̪͐̉҉̷̢͒͠Δ̸̪̈͑҉̸͉͝҉̷͕̈͘͜Ҝ̴͚̝̇̈҉̶̱̎̍҉̸͓̺̍͠Ɨ̶̳̾͋҉̴̧̻͠҉̸̙̫̄Ň̴̯̱̇̑҉̶̨̰̀҉̷͚͠Ǥ̵̯̃̚҉ dɨ̵̢̐ń̵̼ṅ̶̖ɛ̷̥̏ʀ̵̘͒.̷͚̒͝ ̴͉͌Ŵ̷̪̍҉̷̼̕͝҉Ħ̸̹͇̓҉̶̈¥̶͍̈́ ̶͔̖̓҉̷͍̒͘Đ̷̼̾̔҉̵̫̂̊҉̸̬̘̕Ø̸̻̌̓҉̸͉̫̔͋҉̶̢̘̿͐Ň̴̢͙̿͗҉̶̝̊́'̸̰̅̓҉̶͕̜̽̑Ŧ̷̥̒҉̶̼͆ ʏ̴̞͋ő̵̠ʊ̴̧͘ ̸̱̉͠҉̸̨͊Ř̷̼̲͝҉̴̥̈҉̷̘̈́Ữ̶̠̥̃͝҉̸̲̾̀͜҉̴̦͌̈Ň̵͈̓͘҉̷̮̃̓ ̶̯̹̔͠҉̸̭̾͒Δ̷̡̫̓҉̴̛͇҉̷̖̀͋Ł̷̃̅͜҉̷̟͈͠҉̶̰̖̆͘Ø̶̰͓͆̓҉̶͙̪̚҉̷̞̆Ň̸̠̊͜҉̵͖̗͆̾҉̵̥͗͋Ǥ̶̘̗̅̌҉̵̖̐ ̶̋͠ͅ҉̷͚̻̓̓Δ̸̰͛ͅ҉̵͍̘́̑҉̵̡͗Ň̷͕̈ͅ҉̸͓͖͆͠҉̴͓̜̀Đ̴͇̟́̚҉̸͓͗͝ ̴̦̦̂͆҉̸͓͈̏̐Ŧ̵͔̝͗҉̶̞͚̈́҉̷̬̺͘Δ̶̥̱̒҉̴̢̋̋҉̸͎͉̎Ҝ̷̮̹̓̐҉̸͈̐͋҉̸̡̺̀€̴̧̩͌̑҉̶̹̙́̕ ̴̫̓҉̶̙̃͜Δ̸̲͊̈́҉̷̠͒̈́ ռǟք,̵̘̏ ̸͖̾̓҉̶̭̙͝Δ̸̠̰̌̊҉̷̟̪̾҉̵͕̔̒ͅŇ̷̞͊҉̸͙͊̕҉̶̛͚͘Đ̴͓̿̅҉̵̞̮̍ ̵̖͔͐̀҉̸̠̐Ɨ̷̭͗̓҉̸̩͗ ₩ªӄ̶̥̠̟̍ɛ̵̜̍̽̍ ʏ̴̞͋ő̵̠ʊ̴̧͘ ʊ̸̨͊̏p̴̜̭̾ ̴͎͌̓҉̸͖̜̅̋Ɨ̴̩͇̐҉̶̙̍҉̴̧̒͠Ň̷̛̜҉̴͇̈́̂ ̸́ͅ҉̴̞͈̎̓Ŧ̷̗̲̽҉̸̧̭̐͒҉̴̣̑͋Ɨ̷̩̰́҉̸͎̦̍̚҉̸̮̞̈́͌Μ̴̹̈͋҉̴͖̔҉̶͈̎€̵̙̋҉̵̗̼̽ ̵̩̋҉̴̪̐͜₣̶̻͘҉̶̖̉҉̴͖̟͛Ø̴̧͆҉̷́͛͜҉̵̣̋Ř̸̨͜͝҉̷̣̟̾ s̶̘̐͝ʊ̸̩̭̔͌p̴̱̀p̴̯͚̒ɛ̴̩͒ʀ̷͓͆́.”

Well, she didn't have to tell me twice! Naps were the best. Mom went off to the book room to read by herself and I walked towards my room. After entering my room I closed the door behind me with a paw-like hand that I temporarily grew from my tail, before pouncing up to the windowsill, and reclaiming my rightful spot as the comfiest cat in the house.

Never mind that I was always the only cat in the house. Semantics.

And so I curled up into a cosy little ball on the windowsill, and started napping the evening away. Would have been nice to have some to cuddle with as I napped. In the past I tried making another body— attached by the tip of my tail— so that I could have something to cuddle, but cuddling myself just left me feeling lonelier than when I started.

That was… fine. It was still nice and warm, even if I wished I could share this with someone.

I relaxed more and more until eventually I fell asleep. My head was filled with dreams of metal birds in starry nights. Foggy as they were, they conveyed a sense of optimism. It felt like everything would work out in the end.

That profound feeling turned to dust in my hands, and blew away in the wind. “Arty, dinner’s ҉̸̘̱̑̀Ø̴̙̈́҉̷̡̒҉̸̺͆̾Ň̸͔̻͗̈҉̷̢̪̒͠ ̵̪́͝҉̶̜̥̈̓Ŧ̴̨̱̊̈́҉̶̭̝͌҉̵̞͋̚Ħ̴̢̦͌҉̸̤̣̈́̀҉̴̺̟̓͠€̶̝́͘҉̶͇͑ ȶ̶̕ǟ̸̌ɮ̴̓ʟ̸̈́ɛ̵̀!” Oh well, that's just what dreams are like. They’re usually nice. Then they end abruptly, leaving behind nothing but a few cloudy memories and an annoying feeling of loss.

That’s enough ruminating. Less mopping, more moving! Mom made dinner and it was going to be delicious, so there was no good reason to not get off the windowsill.

Move. Come on move!

I demand it!

With great willpower I reformed my entire body, purging it of any sleepy juice that was in my system. After doing so my muscles were much more willing to follow my commands. I hopped off my windowsill, opened the door, and made my way into the dining room.

On the dinner table was some sort of cooked corn with seasonings and a little bit of crumbly cheese, and as a secondary portion Mom had mashed some potatoes. I sat across the table from Mom. My head barely reached above the table due to my short cat stature.

To help me in eating properly like a person, I grew two appendages— of the same sort that I used to help me open and close doors— on my shoulders. With my perfectly normal and paw-like hands, I grabbed the cutlery— a singular spoon— and carefully picked up food from the plate. I held the food in front of my small cat mouth, taking itty-bitty little bites.

I was doing such a good job of eating, I was the second best eater in the whole house. I used to be pretty bad at eating, but Mom didn't like that, so she made sure that I ate properly. I was a people not an animal, so I'd best eat like one!

Gosh, Mom was so cool! She could cook food, do magic, and a million other things that I wasn't even smart enough to know about. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.

Later, after we finished Mom's amazing dinner that made me wish I knew the words needed to thank her, we headed to my room together. The sun was nearing the horizon as Mom sat on the singular chair in my room.

It was the only real piece of furniture in the room. My room was filled with toys, playthings, and a few puzzles. So it was by no means barren… but I did want more furniture. It was on the list of things that I would get around to once I finally cracked this language thing that Mom liked to communicate with.

So as I was saying. Mom sat on the chair, and with a flick of her wand she summoned a book. I sat lazily on her lap as she opened the book in front of us. Just like all of the other books she read to me it was a picture book. I knew that there were non-picture books, but I had no clue what was read or said in those, so I was glad that Mom didn't waste our time together with them.

Mom read the book out loud, moving her finger over each word on the page as she read it. From what I could gather it was a story about an old wizard that didn't take proper care of his heart. At the end of the tale he tried to fix his heart, but it was already too far gone. Lashed out at the lady closest to him, and in the end the wizard killed both his loved ones and himself. It was very graphic. I was surprised that Mom read this one to me, most of the other books had a large aversion to violence.

Luckily, due to my abilities, I didn't have to worry about something as trivial as heart health. I hoped Mom was okay, having to deal with that sort of problem.

Once the story was over, Mom got up and flicked her wand to vanish the book. Soon after a few goodnight skritches she left, leaving me alone in my room.

By then the last slivers of sunlight had long since vanished, and my room was illuminated only by the moonlight bleeding in through the window. For a time I simply sat atop the chair, alone in the darkness.

Eventually, I curled up against the chair, and let the slow grasping hands of sleep take me away.