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The crimson light fades, and the girl's breath hitches. Where her small, compact Litten stood, a slightly larger Torracat now sits, blinking wide, curious eyes. A nervous knot she didn't realize was tightening in her chest all week finally loosens, melting away into a warm, gooey feeling.
He tilts his head, a question in those same intelligent eyes she's always loved. He gives a soft, questioning rrow, and it's a little deeper now, with a faint, fiery purr rumbling underneath. Her heart does a back flip. He’s magnificent. The sleek, dark fur, the way the flaming bell on his throat catches the afternoon light, the confident set of his new ears- she thought it was impossible, but he’s even cuter. The evolution didn't take away the sweet kitten; it just added a dash of rough and rowdy confidence.
"Oh, you," she whispers, sinking to her knees.
She reaches out a hand, and he bumps his head against her palm, just like he always did. The purr deepens, vibrating right up her arm. The worry she harbored, the silly fear that evolution would change him into something she wouldn't recognize, evaporates completely. He is still her partner, her sweet boy, only more so. She pulls him into a hug, burying her face in the soft fur of his neck, and breathes in his familiar, warm scent. He's perfect.
A soft, happy laugh escapes her. This is better than she ever imagined. She pulls back to look at him again, her thumbs stroking the fur on his cheeks. His tail gives a slow, contented swish, thumping lightly against the ground, his purrs louder and louder.
"You're the best," she murmurs, and he answers with a happy trill, nuzzling closer. The world feels new, brighter, because he's in it, perfectly and wonderfully evolved.