Evening nears; the light grows dim, the sun sinking behind the hills.
I arrive.
That view… "Still the same," I whisper. The scenery I once saw with my father—unchanged, untouched by time.
I've been following that cat from behind since earlier, and now I stop for a moment at the hill's peak, releasing a long breath. The small cat doesn't stop walking; it keeps descending the hill without rest.
"Do you never tire, little one?" I mumble as I follow it down, trying to match its pace.
Once I reach the bottom—thankfully the distance isn't far—the cat slips between the clustered houses, heading toward the livelier part of the village.
"Should I… hide my face?" I mutter to myself as I see villagers passing by: farmers returning home, parents with their children, merchants setting up stalls for the night, a blacksmith polishing his hammer, a bard strumming a lute by the tavern door. Warm. Lively. Peaceful.
I glance left and right. "Seems fine," I whisper, giving a faint smile.
But my eyes remain fixed on the cat. It trots lightly from yard to yard, moving away from the bustle toward a quieter area. Does it have an owner?
My curiosity only grows. I still have plenty of time here, and I can buy dinner later—after selling the things I brought.
The cat keeps walking. From one backyard to the next, heading deeper into the quieter parts of the village.
Until finally—
It stops.
Before us stands a young girl, watering plants in her backyard. Her hair catches the faint glow of dusk. When she notices the cat, her expression softens instantly.
Is she… its owner?
My steps slow, almost stopping entirely.
The cat hops toward her, and she welcomes it gently, lifting it into her arms as though holding something precious.
I stop completely. Lower my head. Turn to leave.
"Um… who might you be?" her voice calls from behind.
I freeze. I don't look at her—I've never really spoken to young women directly, not in my home village nor anywhere else.
The cat hops down from her arms and… walks toward me. It circles my legs, brushing against me as though perfectly at ease.
"Eh… that's rare," the girl says as she approaches. "Lucy is usually only comfortable with me and my aunt. Ever since… my father passed."
I say nothing. I'm not sure what to reply.
She looks at me. "Would you like to come in?"
I give a faint smile, suddenly reminded of my mother. "T-thank you… but it's alright." I turn slowly and begin to walk away.
"Really? You…" she says, stopping mid-sentence. My steps halt.
"…you remind me of my older brother."
I look at her for a moment, then start to walk again—
—GRRROOOWWL.
My stomach.
"Hm?" She steps a little closer. "I heard something rather… unique just now." She tilts her head.
"That was your stomach? Or mine, I wonder."