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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[regalduchess]

Duchess hums consideringly, placing one delicate paw on her jaw. "Playing pretend can be a good thing, can it not?"

She smiles. "Gray it is, my dear."

She's tall enough to put a paw on their head like she does with her kittens. Interesting! She'll pat them a few times, standing on her hind legs.

[rainingelsewhere]

They tilt their head to consider it.

"It might be. Like pretending you are braver than you are, or less lonely." It may be that they sound a little overly serious, but they say it so evenly and so matter of factly that maybe solemn is just their default tone. It helps that they're smiling.

"...I don't think it's a very good idea though, when you are introducing yourself to someone," they continue, punctuating with another nod. "Or if you do it for too long."

A strange noise comes out of them when she starts patting them, like short, clear, ringing notes, or squeaking. It takes them a moment to realize that they're giggling as they squirm.

"Miss Duchess, that tickles."

[regalduchess]

She nuzzles their forehead and laughs right back, voice clear and bright like ringing bells. It's such a shame that she lost the bell on her collar early, tangling it in a briar and finding herself unable to locate the bell in the dirt.

"My mother always told me that if you wished to be something, believing you could was always the first part. Like being brave, or kind."

She finally pulls back and drops back to all fours. "But it is wise to not lose sight of your true self, I admit."

[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?"