“ DELICATE ” The gentle breeze blew over her fur as she sat in the clearing she had been shown so long ago- by him, the snow lightly falling over the slowly dying grass, but that didn’t matter. Mimi ignored the gathering snow on her pelt, smiling to herself as she considered the memories this place gave her. She often came here, a quiet place she could keep to her thoughts where no one might disturb her. Except for him. A cat as graceful as a flower. Floating and swaying in the breeze. A cat that could talk to anyone if he felt like it. Always being able to keep a calm yet fun energy that made her feel whole. A strange feeling it was for her, unusual and weird, yet warming. Making friends wasn’t her thing. Remembrance wasn’t one for talking often, she did it when she needed to, to fill in the awkward parts. … “ UPLIFTING ” But not him. Eyes so bright they reminded her of water droplets on petals. A infectious smile that was always shown whenever he was happy, as if it could transfer to her face. When he was happy. They had ups and downs. Fights and jokes. She had never felt closer to anyone like this, not even her brothers. It was like they clicked..could that be? She blinked herself of the downward spiral. Again with this thought. It had been going on.. And on… And on. For days now in her head. The fight replying, the quiet apology, those sunrises and walk they had shared together. “ CHARM ” Was this what cats called love? The faint topic she had been told, warned about when she started her new path, but what was one more rule broken? Did it really matter? Remembrance flicked her tail amused. There was always something about him. The way he joked, talked, helped her train. She knew they had her grown close, but was he okay with it? What would he think? About her choice? She couldn’t keep playing the lie forever. The lie that it was in her head, that she was just distraught. She couldn’t keep this secret forever, her voice inside of her, pleading. Something louder than she had ever been. Mimi idly admired a feather she had stuck into her bag, their first hunt. She smiled softly, a core memory of hers. “ FLOATING ” Remma, the nickname had given her. Feathers from their first hunt. A secret clearing they had trained together. Fixed. Cleaned every new season. Sunrises on the cool sand at the beach. That one fateful dusk he had caught her unaware watching the moon. Remembrancepaw. Remembrancemist. Whatever her name was, these are the things she would remember. Like her name. She felt as light as a cloud, realization rushing into her. This wasn’t friends, oh no, she had realized that long ago. She had- no, is feeling something more. . . “Crocuscharm”
