Wow she was accepted five hours ago and I’m already on to it. . . —————————————————-|—————— Hemingway had always been… Alone. No one, not even family to give her any sense of social life. Nothing. She didn’t even have a mother. Wasn’t that So cruel? Even youth had been a struggle. She was only 10 moons old. 1 0. She had nothing. Nothing at all. Not yet. Hemming was in the trees, cream and white fur smooth and rippling. Hem was sick of being alone. She climbed. Up to the top of the tree. She looked at the stars. They shimmered bright and sparkled. They were close together. Even the STARS had someone. Hem dived down a branch, so her vision was nearly blinded by leaves. Usually, she didn’t notice. Sometimes she even enjoyed it. Being alone could be nice. But what if the weather was cold? What if you were sick? What if you couldn’t be Alone? It was evening. Evening was where anxiety stays. She hid from it well. But today, she was Exposed. She would love just one friend. Or.. a parental figure. Or an enemy. Just someone to give her an excuse to use her voice. She climbed down the tree, air flitting through her fur, ruffling her whiskers. The evening was now fading into night. That was better. But Hem was still alone. She would make friends. Right? —————————————————-|—————— Hem is such an
