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Kitty had crept through the ruin of the Blue Kingdom, slipping between crevices and cracks of the wrecked buildings, ones of stone and flammable wood. They strode in the shadows, darkness hiding her obnoxiously bright feather, hiding the scarf that trailed after every step she took. Their bluish green eyes glinted in the dark, sharp slits only being visible to those with keen eyes and those who were purposefully looking for something, not just loitering around getting on with their normal kingdomly duties. They were foolish, Kitty firmly believed, no one should turn a blind eye to anywhere in these kingdoms. With the rate of attacks going up on the daily— everyone had been on edge. But clearly, not on edge enough to be whipping their head around at every corner.
They snuck behind the wooden board, the one she had previously had Graecie read out to her. She never actually remembered much of what the elf had said, none of it was important to them anyways, just really some personal goals put out on display for others to walk by and snoop. Kitty found it strange. The logistics of these kingdoms had told her not to trust anyone— but this, this, was weird. Laying out your location and your main goal to achieve? Would you not want to keep that to yourself?
They stopped abruptly, hearing the grumbles of someone familiar. Big kitty, she thought, peering around the corner of the board to see that familiar golden armour, the red fabric that wavered in the wind ever so slightly. The cat mask glimmered in the faint sunlight, as he decorated the outside of his home. Home, she had been in there multiple times, snooping around, claiming his bed, and then when Kitty went back and rightfully took what was theirs. The bed, the bed that they had claimed for the first time upon laying her big eyes on it. Yet, he still argued that it was his. He must have been confused, Kitty told herself, as she knew it rightfully belonged to her.
He glanced up, looking around briefly. It was almost as if his cat senses could tell someone was nearby. Big kitty looked almost right through her, and for a moment, they recoiled. But, as quickly as he looked over, he averted his eyes and continued doing whatever he was doing. Big kitty is smart, his senses can tell I’m here. Kitty thought to herself, a spark of excitement fleeting in her chest as she used the shadows to hide her cover. They then scaled up the side of his residence, claws digging into the gaps of the stone brick as they perched on top of a window ledge, watching him work away from a distance. Even she had to admit, though his armor was strange, cat shaped helmet, even when he claimed not to be one, the colour was pretty. It shone and glittered in the daylight, the orange hues complimenting the blood red fabric which had the pretty white patterns on it.
Kitty had long fallen out of the shadows, her full form now being visible. The unmistakable yellow feather that was huge, slightly drooping down. Her big blue eyes stared and watched him. The striking green undershirt they wore with the long sleeves, covered mostly by the teal waistcoat that hugged their curves. And of course, the very long scarf that had tied around her neck and travelled past her feet, often bunching up or trailing on the ground. At this moment, it dangled in the gentle breeze of the air.
She leapt down from the window, landing on her feet as a cat always does. Her sharp ears caught onto his sharp inhale, starting on his words but they quickly scattered. Not running away, no, just Kitty climbing on top of a furnace and looking down on him. She sat there, perched like a domestic housecat, observing without doing any harm. Though, they were unwelcomed in the Blue Kingdom.
“What are you doing here?” He spoke, hand trailing down to the Zweihänd that he kept near his waist. His building was quickly forgotten, now fully focused on the way the rogue had strode in here like she owned the place, almost as if pushing aside the fact that the two kingdoms were supposed to despise each other. Everytime he pushed her away, she always came sneaking back in one way or another, disappearing into the shadows and popping up in daylight.
“I want to talk.” Kitty replied bluntly, blinking briefly as they stared back down at him.
“Talk?” He scoffed, snickering quietly beneath the lion helmet he wore. His hands brought the sword to his palms, pointing it right at her effortlessly as he continued on. “The only reason we should be talking is with weapons.
She blinked once more, those large eyes empty of displaying any emotion behind them. Kitty looked down to her human hands, that had instinctively tensed up on top of the cold stone of the furnace beneath them. She then looked back up, shifting her sitting position ever so slightly as she cocked her head to the side.
“I don’t want to fight. I want to talk.” Kitty stated, their words straightforward as she repeated the second half of her previous sentence. “About why you lie about being cat. Your senses are familiar to feline, and you look like a cat, your people even call you kitty cat. I personally have been calling you big kitty.”
His grip softened on his sword ever so slightly, waiting for the moment for her to lunge forth and catch him off guard. But with those eyes, showing no signs of thinking of attacking, he sighed, putting away his sword before he let her words really sink in.
He glared up at them once again, scoffing as he plainly replied. “I’m not a cat. I’m human. I have a name, one that doesn’t include cat or kitty in it.” The silence spread between them for a moment, seeming to stretch in the tension that was obvious between the two.
“Then what is your name?” They questioned, bringing a hand up to her bangs and briefly fixing them, letting them fall over her eyes. Her scarf circled her feet, almost as if a snake coiling around their boots.
He sighed for a minute, letting the tension leave his shoulders as he let himself relax. His hand fell from the handle of his weapon, letting his arms fall to his side. “Owen. My name is Owen.”
“Owain?” Kitty mispronounced the name upon hearing it for the first time, and Owen’s blood ran cold. His head snapped up to look at them, still looking so innocent. There’s no way, he thought briefly, the tension had quickly returned to his body again, his pulse picking up in speed.
“How do you know that?” He unintentionally spat out, his body tense as if he might pounce any moment, like a snake, coiling up before getting ready to lunge at you. Owen’s armor suddenly felt heavy, although he had been used to the feeling for years, as it had grounded him before. But now, in this moment, he felt it was weighing him down, tying him to the plains of this earth and making him live out this cruel and sick life.
She missed the way his body reacted to her words, the way his body language had completely changed. They found it weird, why was his name so basic, when everyone else called him differently? Kitty reassured themself that it was just another weird human thing, something that she should adapt to but she wasn’t quite there yet.
“You just told me your name. Owain, right?” Kitty had repeated it once more.
In a flash of silver, Owen unsheathed his blade and quickly pointed it towards her. His hand wavered slightly, but he forced himself to stand rigid and point the blade with confidence.
“I-I don’t know where you're getting that information from, who told you that? I swear, I didn’t tell anyone in this god forbid kingdom.” He spoke firmly, trying to portray confidence. But he knew deep down, he was deeply disturbed with how she knew his actual name, not the one he just told others so it would be easier for them to pronounce. But them— them, they had pronounced it accurately the first try, and especially without him telling her.
“Owain? Did you not just tell me that’s your name?” She asked curiously, her head cocking to the side as a mild confusion passed over her facial features. Those big bluish green eyes, that had previously shown zero to little emotion, showcased a lack of understanding. Her thoughts resembled a tangled ball of yarn, with no clear beginning or end. They didn’t understand why he was so nervous suddenly, reading him like a book, picking up on the slight stammer on his words, and the way he scrambled to get them out like he was a dam about to burst.
“N-no. I told you Owen, not Owain. How did you—” Then it really hit him. Kitty wasn’t calling him Owain, she didn’t know that was his real name, but instead she had been mispronouncing Owen as Owain. It suddenly made a lot more sense, and beneath the lion helmet, he felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. For once, Owen was very grateful that she couldn’t see his face.
His blade was lowered back to his side, he sheathed it in silence, a sharp metallic scrap filling the silence between the two of them. Owen cleared his throat, the space between them suddenly feeling rather awkward with his mistake and sudden threat of violence, which could have been avoided if he had clicked sooner.
“I apologise, Kitty. I thought you called me something else there. I do hope you can understand and accept this apology.” His tone had become a lot quieter, sheepish almost in a way. He was clearly embarrassed, his tough demeanour faltering for a good moment. Owen pressed a hand to his chest, dipping his head in a sorrowful manner.
Kitty blinked blankly, before her mind put together the puzzle pieces that had previously been scrambled and scattered, now that clicked together and made perfect sense. It had been her fault, but with him here, apologising truly, it made a small sense of empathy rush to her chest. They shook their head, not liking the way Owen had dipped his head, almost begging to be forgiven when it was actually her fault in the first place.
“No, that was my fault. I pronounced it wrong, you got mad, I understand. No need for sorries.” Kitty hummed, staying silent for a moment, before she spoke up again. “Your language is difficult, I mispronounce things quite often. I try my best, though.”
Owen nodded along, finding it slightly strange that Kitty struggled with the language she had most likely grown up with. Unless… they weren’t lying about being a cat before. He let the thought brew in his brain for a good moment, because for once, this explanation actually made sense. He lifted his cranium up to look into those swimming orbs, noticing how she had avoided his gaze, looking almost deep in thought for a good moment.
He let her think for a moment, letting her catch up on the moment and the words that had been exchanged previously. Owen had to admit, with his misunderstanding, he had been incredibly quick to take out his Zweihänd on her, almost staking her right in the moment before he thought rationally.
“So you haven’t spoken English all of your life? It must be hard, I understand that.” He let himself relate to them for a moment, his hands coming to the front of him momentarily as he placed his right palm over his left, letting his fingers crack for a moment. Owen had been so tense lately, with the other kingdom constantly invading over their boundary, he rarely had given himself any time to relax.
Kitty nodded along, changing her sitting position so her legs dangled off of the furnace stack, still looking down on him. They looked at the careful sculpture of the lion helmet, noticing how feline it looked. They saw their old self in the reflection, the little cat that had been loved, not like humans loved each other, no, the way she had been loved by her beloved knight. Her heart panged with an emotion she wasn’t quite familiar with yet.
“Human language is difficult at some times. I liked being a cat more.” She expressed, using hand gestures while she spoke. Kitty fell silent, biting the inside of her cheek with her teeth before she mumbled. “Though, you would think being feline means you don’t see just as much horrors of this world. But it’s false.”
The words died in her throat, eyes falling slightly heavy for a moment. As she spoke of it, the memory of that first night had flooded through her brain once again.
Waking up, and he wasn’t there. Her small paws carried her from the bed, across the floor boards, before she descended down the stairs. Her sharp nose picked up on a protruding smell, one she wasn’t familiar with at all. Their pawsteps had became a lot more cautious when the stench hit them, quietly navigating their way to that smell. Then, peering around the corner, she saw him. Her beloved knight, laying on the floor, his chest no longer rising and falling. A dreaded feeling of something washed over their small body, creeping over cautiously as a sudden red blossomed across their paws. They had stepped into some crimson liquid that seemed to be coming from her knight. The source was him. Her ears pinned back timidly, tail falling to trail behind her. His body was mangled, an open gash in his chest as his blue eyes widened in shock, the light that had comforted her endlessly for years, now lifeless. An unwelcome presence suddenly became obvious to them, as they slowly turned their head to look up. A man, a dark cloak that draped onto the floor, graying hair, and eyes. Those eyes— they terrified her. They were gray, empty, violent and vicious. She went to back up, taking small pawsteps back as her eyes widened. But suddenly, he reached forward, tying a small leash across her neck. They mewled, trying to break free but the rope kept her bound, and he started to pull her away from the only place she knew home.
The last time she saw home, was when it was lit ablaze, red flames dancing across the pitch dark of the night. Her small eyes widened in terror, knowing this wasn't going to be anything like the life she had cherished.
Kitty had subconsciously tensed up while those thoughts flooded throughout their head, and he was quick to notice. Owen stood there silent for a moment, sighing before he moved over to the bottom of the furnaces, looking up at her.
“It must have been hard,” Owen spoke softly, crossing his arms over his chest. When doing the action, his armour clinked in the silent setting, which brought Kitty back into the moment. They blinked for a few times, before looking back down on him in his new position. She stretched her arms up, letting the kinks pop out of her tense body.
“It was, I lost him.” They murmured, falling silent once again. This was a sensitive topic, a new land Kitty hadn’t yet explored opening up to others. Her big eyes became smaller, looking down into the dirt below blankly, masking her expression to become unreadable.
Owen could tell this was a topic that was delving into dangerous territory, and for someone as bright and bubbly as Kitty, this felt wrong. He hummed in agreement, even if it had killed him not to ask who ‘he’ was, but he instead decided to move from the topic.
“I can understand the difficulty with languages, I didn’t speak English originally.” He told her, letting himself open up a little since they had felt comfortable enough to tell him her own stuff, even if she seemed a little reserved on the topic.
“You didn’t speak English?” Kitty replied, her reserved state broken by his statement, her curiosity piqued. She suddenly wanted to know so much more about Owen, wanting to learn more about how he is and what he does and why he does it.
“I didn’t, I spoke Welsh growing up.” He spoke, leaning comfortably against the furnaces. Owen smiled at the memory slightly, but as quick as it came he pushed the smile down, the not so lovely part of the memories coming back to him. “Do you know what Welsh is?”
Kitty shook her head, truly confused by this new word. Welsh sounded like a type of fish.. She thought. But you can’t speak fish. Unless maybe he can? Maybe he’s fish instead of a cat? Her mind trailed off, endlessly going off into spirals of differentiating thoughts.
“It’s a language. There’s this place called Wales, and that’s where the language comes from.” Owen spoke, looking up to them with his helmet glittering in the sun that slowly began to descend. She nodded along, humming at his statement. Kitty wasn’t good with English, let alone a new other language she didn’t know existed until this moment. They leaned forward, batting her big eyes before asking.
“Can you speak some Welsh for me?” Their tone was filled with nothing but pure and genuine curiosity. She was almost childlike, in a way that made his harsh heart soften in the slightest. He always had a soft spot for others that weren’t quite on the same intelligence level as him, and in this moment, his soft spot was aching for kitty.
“Weren’t you ever told that curiosity is what killed the cat?” Owen teased, letting a laugh slip past his lips. It was a genuine rumble that filled the space between them, one that wasn’t often heard by others. He shook his head, smiling widely beneath the lion helmet that hid what his face truly looked like.
“Fine, but if you tell a single soul about this interaction— I will not be afraid to use my Zweihänd to put you to rest.” He threatened, but it was really empty with no actual harm behind it. Kitty nodded along, blinking as she gestured for him to go on. He inhaled, before tilting his head to the side.
“Pam rydw i'n dy hoffi gymaint?” The words almost seemed like a curse, slipping out easily to Owen but mesmerising Kitty. She couldn’t help but lean closer, almost as if he was going to say something else. He took a step back, putting some distance between the two of them. A silence had passed over the two, with Kitty dipping her body down into a position that longed to hear more, and with him standing a little bit back from the furnaces, arms still crossed over his chest before they fell back down to his sides.
The sun dipped down over the horizon, before the moon casted its magical spell, the light slowly fading and the darkness beginning to take over. Wind was howling in the distance, leaves of the trees being rustled by the restless wind that seemed to ache for a rest. Voices were heard in the quiet kingdom, from quite a distance away, conversing in a friendly tone and exchanging laughs every so often. The world had been bathed in a silvery glow, the sky was a blanket with silent, watching stars. Night was acting as a curtain falling on the day.
Kitty’s hair was tousled by the cold wind painting her face, though after brushing her hands out of her eyes, she noticed something. The way the night fell in the reflection of his helmet, elder trees writing a story of their own as they rustled and arched. They briefly stood up, hearing the approaching of other Blue Kingdom members that wouldn’t be so kind on her soul. Before she could disappear into the night, they felt a cool hand meeting hers.
“Tell me I’ll see you again,” Owen whispered, glancing up to her with a look that almost begged for her to say yes. This was the first time he had actually longed to see her again, not finding her as annoying as previously since talking with her, finding out more about the infamous rogue and understanding their view on the rest of the world.
“Yes.” They replied in a hushed tone, before a torch came into her vision.
Owen turned around to face the flame, noticing that it was only Scott patrolling the night. He then went to look back at Kitty, but like the wind, she was already blown away. He looked into the night, almost as if looking to see if he could catch a final glimpse at that large, canary-coloured feather. But behold, he found nothing. Owen sighed, before turning to the mage, approaching him and making the smallest of small talk, ignoring the way his heart clenched after their departure.
Kitty had slipped off when she saw the flickering fire of a torch approaching, scrambling away. After revisiting her memory of that night, fire seemed to be the correct thing to set her off right now. Almost as if invisible, she watched Owen approach the blonde mage, talking to him as if they hadn’t been so comfortable only moments ago. A smile slipped onto her lips, thinking of how he had been comfortable enough to give her his actual name, and informing her about his past.
The only thing that remained on her mind, was truly what he had said in his language. Kitty hadn’t had the time to ask what he had said, but she longed for a way to figure out what he said. So, with a final glance to him, she stalked off into the night, hiding in the shadows.