catnap with destiny [open]

[regalduchess]

...Perhaps it is true that cats have nine lives.

Three days after the crocodile, Duchess wakes up in the same place she'd died (swiftly, not fast enough for blood to stain past the collar). She's curled up as if in a light catnap on the windowseat in one of the halls, but the dust on the velvet cushions betrays the truth.

Duchess opens her eyes slowly against the light that filters in. Warmth puddles on her back, slips away on her shadowed paws and tail curled under her body.

...despite how nice it feels, she still has a phantom ache in her throat. She'll sit at the windowseat for a while, alternately grooming her fur into perfection or soaking up the sun.

A little later, she'll pad down into the gardens and inspect the newest... additions to the landscape.  It's entirely possible that anyone could run into her, either at the windowseat, the gardens, or anywhere in-between.

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[rainingelsewhere]

Involuntarily, they flinch only the slightest amount at the last thing Duchess says. They force themselves to keep it small enough that they can try to disguise it as one of the last of their gigglefit-induced squirms, though how successful they are at that they are unsure.

She didn't mean anything by it, and it was meant well. This is all on them. It is not her fault that they are no longer exactly sure what their true self is.

"...Your mother sounds like a very nice lady, miss," they say politely, and if the faintest bit of wistfulness slips into their tone then there's nothing to say about it. "What about the rest of your family? Did you have siblings too?"

[regalduchess]

"Oh, I had siblings, but I didn't much know them. I was adopted out and Madame Bonfamille took me. She is... she is my family, I suppose, along with my own children and their sire."

She finally pulls back to allow the child to breathe.

"What about you?"