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by w0ah » Tue Jul 21, 2020 7:09 am
a place of writings -- tales, stories, tellings -- of a serene garden
and the colony of felines that reside within it, day-by-day . . . . .
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w0ah
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by w0ah » Wed Jul 22, 2020 11:28 am
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xxxxxxThe woman hummed as she bent-down to the height of the petunias, gazing into their dark centers. She was older, aging, her face wrinkled and creviced, smile-lines framing her eyes and the corners of her lips. Her hair, thin and silvery, glinted in the morning rays of sunshine, nearly translucent. She turned to gaze down toward her feline companion. It was a dark tomcat, aging, just as she was. He was lounging on a grey path-stone, basking directly in a line of sunlight, his tail-tip flicking contentedly. He peered upwards toward the woman, his eyes barely opening in the light, still clinging with sleep. With her right hand, she reached toward the tom and curled her fingers beneath his chin, scratching the tip of his chin -- just how he liked it. He leaned into her touch, stretching his neck forward, a light pur rumbling from his chest.
xxxxxxThey were happy, pleasantly content, and unbothered by the world.
xxxxxxBut the woman had been gone for many moons now, too many for the tom to keep track. She'd left him on the brightenest day of spring they had seen -- and yet, she wouldn't be there to tend to her garden as she always had. At first, Basil was confused. He was conflicted. Has she really up and left him so soon? Had she abandoned him? But as the days passed, humans came and went from the cottage, removing items that hadn't been but brushed in years. The realization hit the tom like a brick wall -- a tree blocking the road, an inescapable obstacle. The woman had not left him, she had no control. Nature had taken its course, just as it always must. Basil should have known, anyways -- he's an aging tom himself.
xxxxxxNo matter, it does not ease the pain. The transition was rough in the beginning -- once the cottage was cleared, the bustling of humans left and they never seemed to return. The door to the home was locked tight, the windows shuttered, and the gate chained to a lock. Had they forgotten about him, the cat? No, he did not wish to be found. He knew the places they would take him, the hellholes they call "shelters" or "pounds". He'd be riddled in fleas in no time. Sleep was nearly impossible in those places. The stenches were unrecognizable, filling your nostrils with a burning sensation. It was chemicals, ones they used to clean and sanitize the cages. Basil did not wish to ever return to that place, not in his old age -- and so he hid outside, in the gardens, until all signs of the humans were cleared.
xxxxxxIt took a few moons or more of dilly-dallying before the tom piped-up with his newest idea. The gardens were far overgrown, but in a magnificently beautiful way. Nature had taken over the space once trimmed and restrained by the hands of humans, wildflowers reclaiming plots of exotic plants, ones that didn't belong in such a place. An assortment of wildlife had also moved in -- butterflies, beetles, ants (so many ants!), moths, shrews, mice, rabbits, frogs, minnows, slugs and snails, even some deer -- and so much more, too much to list in just one sentence! The garden was lively, teeming with creatures Basil had never encountered before. Each morning, as he stepped out from the cottage into the hazy sunlight, he would discover a new creature scuttling across his path. Be it a new butterfly, with wings dazzling colors he'd never laid eyes upon before, or a little rodent crossing from one patch of foliage to the next -- there was always so much to see. And yet, there was never a day Basil hadn't felt so lonely.
xxxxxxThere was a strange feeling of guilt that riddled the tom as he wandered his ever-expanding garden -- and yes, he named it his now, ever since he had taken on the task of guarding its borders. He longed to share the beauty of the gardens with others, not just hog it all for himself! He knew there were many felines out there -- young and old -- that would prosper from their tranquility, and many would simply just cherish the fact that they had a place to call home. Basil himself knew the feeling all too well, for before he was a content housecat with a roof over his head, he was a stray wandering the forests. He hadn't forgotten how to hunt to feed himself, or the ways he had learned to survive. Those skills never left a cat once they had learned them.
xxxxxxSo Basil had a new motive in life, in his years of older-age, when time is running just as it had for the woman -- to offer strays a home, and keep them from the chemical-stench cages of the shelter.
xxxxxxWe pick-up our story on a bright and sunny morning of spring. The aging tom padded from the cottage through the cat-door, the opaque-plastic flap swinging closed behind him. Basil reminisced in its sunlight. He recognized this as an optimal day for gardening, one where his owner would have spent the entire day out in the sun -- sweating, covering herself in dirt, and tending to her flowers. The tom had good intentions for the day. Already pleased with the sights, he trotted off into the winding pathways of the gardens, and into the thicker forests behind. He patrolled through much of the day, into the early evening, and returned to the cottage with a plump mouse swinging from his maw. He feasted on nature's bounty, before falling deep into sleep on his padded cat-bed on the bay window.
xxxxxxThe following day, he would try again -- and the day after that, throughout the month. He would search until he found another lonely soul, in need of a friend and a place to call home.
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[ wc ] 971 words
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w0ah
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by w0ah » Wed Jul 22, 2020 1:19 pm
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xxxxxxBasil peered through the fluttering leaves of the shrub he crouched within, his own body carefully weaved between the various twigs and branches. His eyes followed the darting form of a shrew, though slow-moving, as it carelessly meandered from one patch of moss to the next, ones that grew from between the stones that formed the pathways. It was slowly making its way toward the other side of the path, where the foliage grew thick with plantings once more. But there, in the middle of the pathway, it was in plain and open sight of any lurking predator -- Basil being one of them. Though he was an aging tom, the fire of a young and early hunter still remained ablaze within him. His nostrils flared, eyes narrowed to slits, and his jaw parted slightly to taste the air of the scents floating around him, riding the breeze. Yet, just as the tom readied his haunches and sprung into action, he knew long before that he was far too slow.
xxxxxxThe tiny, fawn-furred creature scuttled away on its minuscule four paws, darting further down the pathway. No matter, Basil kept the chase -- he hurtled after the shrew, his own paws merely inches from reaching its stubby little tail. The chase was brilliant, at least from the eyes of Basil himself, but from the eyes of a possible onlooker, it was an amusing sight to see the large tom hurling himself down the pathway toward the speck of brown he sought to snatch. There was no chance that he would be able to catch it at that point -- the shrew was quick, it had lightning reflexes, and within moments it disappeared within the nearest thick shrubbery at a bend in the pathway.
xxxxxxThough Basil cursed beneath his breath, he quickly shrugged-off the loss when another movement caught his attention. It was a flash, similar in color to the tiny shrew, yet much darker in pigment. The flick of a long and thick-furred tail, as was the tom's assumption. Out of curiosity, and a twinge of hope, he padded down the pathway toward the direction of what had flashed through the corner of his eye. His pale yellow orbs scanned the leafy-green foliage that bordered the pathway, layerings of groundcover, ferns, and larger shrubs here-and-there. There it was again -- another flash, this time more clear, the figure of a cat visible against a green background. A smile curled along the older tom's lips, and he pushed himself onward.
xxxxxxFurther along the trail, a young tom-cat eagerly sniffed at the tendrils of a catmint, vibrantly coated in lilac-hued budding. His nose twitched with a curious excitement, not one usual for a cat smelling the flowers -- but he's no normal tom. He had been trained diligently for moons on the dozens of herbs littered throughout their environment, their properties aiding in the healing of wounds and sickness. His mind held within it the knowledge of every herb the cats could use, and just how to use them, to mend their sick and injured. It is a unique talent for any average cat, for the teachings of herbs and healing are usually passed from only a few lines of descendants, or from mentor to apprentice. It takes years for any cat to learn the ways with the herbs, and even then, they continue to discover further treatments throughout their lifetimes. This tom was no exception. He examined the catmint not just to observe its beauty, but also to find the fullest stems in which he could harvest and store-away.
xxxxxx"Hello there!" A cheerful voice sounded from behind, causing the dark-furred feline to nearly jump out of his fur. He swiveled on his heels and faced the other, widened eyes studying him -- he was an older tom, showing the coming of age, with a pelt of black and white, paired with pale yellow eyes. From the first looks of him, he certainly didn't seem threatening, especially with that charming grin plastered on his maw. "Hello..." He returned, relaxing himself only slightly. The other padded further from the shrubbery of the gardens, and stood just before him, the waving tendrils of the catmint plant separating them. "My name is Basil," He continued, dipping his head politely. "how funny it is to find you on my territory."
xxxxxxImmediately, the tom stiffened, his tail halting its content sway. "I-I'm very sorry, I hadn't known this was someone's territory." He took a hesitant step backward, as if preparing to leave, and his eyes scanned the gardens for a potential escape. He'd only just encountered the older tom, and though he seemed nonthreatening, there was no saying what hid behind that facade. He wasn't one to engage is scuffles all too often -- he was a healer, after all! Why bother learning how to fight when other matters were of more importance? Though, perhaps, maybe he should have... it might serve him well in the future. However, to the surprise of the tom, Basil shook his head with a chuckle; no threatening, no leap into attack, no chasing him from the territory. "Oh please, do not worry." He began, tipping his head with a smile. "My home is welcome to all. I would love to have some company."
xxxxxxPerplexed, the dark-furred tom cocked his head to the side as he studied the other, and with that friendly smile still curled on his lips, he truly was certain that he was in no danger. The tom was certainly not going to spring forward and claw his eyes out anytime soon. "So, what's your name?" He had asked, lowering himself gently onto his haunches as he released a sigh of relief. It seemed the older tom was tired, as was common with age, and longed for the rest. "Merlin." He replied, dipping his head. "What a name -- nice to meet you, Merlin." Basil returned with a smile. Turning only slightly to the side, he eyed the catmint and leaned in to sniff the buds, interested by their scent. "So, you're rather interested in this plant, huh?" The older tom joked. Merlin smirked, shook his head lightly, and cast his eyes to the plant briefly. "Well, yes." He began, returning his gaze. "These plants are known to be rather useful -- they can be used to treat several common coughs. You know, such as greencough or whitecough."
xxxxxxCocking a brow, Basil seemed only mildly surprised as he listened to the other speak. "You know much of herbs, don't you?" He questioned, excitement swirling in his gaze. "Are you a healer?" Chuckling softly, Merlin seemed used to this kind of intrigue from others once they discovered his craft. He nodded in response, enough for the older tom to continue on. "Why, you're just what we need!"
xxxxxxNow, Merlin furrowed his brow in confusion, suspicion rising at his response. "And what does that mean?" He laughed, if only a little nervously. Rising back onto his paws, Basil turned himself around in a circle as if to signal to the gardens surrounding the pair, speaking as he did so. "I've intended to build a colony for quite some time now, you see." He began. "But every colony needs its healer, doesn't it? They wouldn't ever survive without one." Completing his maneuver, he faced toward the healer once more, grinning. "Are you, perhaps, looking for a home?"
xxxxxxMerlin watched the other with a steady gaze, smirking lightly as he spoke. He almost didn't know what to think of him -- he'd never encountered a stranger so giddy and pleasant before. He had no suspicion, no questioning. He only greeting him with politeness, and an observant interest. Though he'd only just met the tom, he felt trustworthy enough. The older tom had hinted little if any threat to him, and had only stirred a warmth within his soul. He was a charming soul, one Merlin could enjoy to be around. "Yes, I believe I am." He responded -- and with that, there was no turning-back. Merlin would be the first official Shaman of Serenity, and he would accept that position willingly.
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- Roan and Sasha bump into each other -- Roan, an ex-pet, and Sasha, a frequent stray.
- The pair wander into the gardens, and are also asked to join Basil, and now including Merlin.
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w0ah
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