[Open] Catgroove.

[regalduchess]

The cat; small, lithe, and scared; runs through the aviary chased out by chirping birds, their beady eyes vindictive.

Once upon a time, there was a cheerfully tinkling bell on her collar. Now, it lies on the aviary floor as a trophy to the birds. The entire castle she runs through has a strange feeling to it, like everything is dead. Or asleep, or in mourning.

She finally comes to the throne room. Even cobweb-encrusted as they are, the silk seats are soft and comforting. The musty warmth reminds her of Bonfamille and her pink boas, her soft skin, the perfume she always wears-- always used to wear.

With a soft sigh, Duchess curls into a circle with her tail hanging off the edge of the throne, and tries to sleep.

Comments

[lightofthestars]

Tauriel makes another small noise. Her hand stays lifted in the air, then uncertainly settles upon Duchess' back. It is...strange to pet one who speaks.

"I am from the Woodland Realm, in Middle-earth." Will it ever not be odd to tell the name of her world? "Do you know of it?"

[regalduchess]

"No, no, I'm afraid not. Is it pretty there?" Woodlands, she's never been to; not even the bubbling little stream she sees in pictures and paintings in the house, which is supposed to be only a mile away.

[lightofthestars]

"Indeed it is. Though much of it has been corrupted by evil, those places that remain untouched are wonderful indeed."

For a moment, a look of longing is upon her face, but she hides it away to ask, "From where do you hail, Duchess?"

[regalduchess]

"Oh, that is terrible. I am so sorry that your-- your home has been corrupted." Her face falls, ears laying flat against her head.

"I hail from Paris. It's a lovely place, simply lovely."

[lightofthestars]

"Paris," she says, trying to remember if she has heard this name before. "Is this a...place in Middle-earth?"

She does not know whether that is the name of a realm or a town, a forest or something else entirely.

[regalduchess]

"No, no, just a place on regular Earth." Duchess hops down from the chair and paces, tail flicking behind her. "Paris was so beautiful-- the canals, the cobblestone streets, our house-- what was Middle-earth like?"

[lightofthestars]

She looks away, a little ashamed. "I cannot say. This is the first time I have left the Woodland Realm in all my days."

[regalduchess]

"Oh, that's perfectly alright." She leans forwards to nuzzle Tauriel's cheek. "Tell me about this Woodland Realm?"

[lightofthestars]

She startles; the touch of fur was not something she had forethought.

Looking back at Duchess, she says, "It is my home. One can sit in the tree-tops and look upon a sea of green. At night, the stars stretch away and cast their glittering light as far as sight allows, and the air is sweet indeed. Though the servants of the Necromancer ever strive against us, there is still great beauty to be found."

[regalduchess]

Duchess lets her speak; in truth, she herself is captivated by the idea of rolling oceans of green leaves, stars covering the entire sky and not blocked out by the yellows of streetlamps.

"Oh. Who is this Necromancer? He sounds..." she contorts her tail into a curlicue and allows that to finish her sentence.