Open to Join All Different

Kindness goes a long way, but don't mistake it for weakness.

༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･🦋༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･

It had been some time since Duchess had visited Noah, been a while since her paws had carried her far from her ol' farmhouse actually. It was nice to go out every now and again, especially to visit one so close to her as Noah is. However, while on her way, a new pelt caught her eye, the scent was just as new as the smell was. Her hazel eyes turned slightly to spot him, a pale cat with darker brownish rosettes, she definitely hadn't seen him before. A thought crept over to her, it might be nice to be one of the first cats he had met, a friendly face to greet him in his new home.

She halted her fence-hopping at his own fenceline and looked down at his with a welcoming smile. "Well, I'll be! Look what the fox dragged in." She chirped, flicking her black and white tail, but not jumping down to invade the space. If she wasn't welcome, she'd happily make do with visiting a single cat today. "A new kitty-cat comin' to Whitehart, bless your heart." She chirped warmly as her paws held balance on the fenceline.

Her muzzle drifted down to him, he seemed, concerned? Confused? Upset? She expected that of a newcomer, a lot of cats don't really know where they are when the humans move from one place to another. She knew she would if the old folks at her farmhouse were to leave with her and her ma. But that was no reason to be unwelcoming. "Reckon this is your first rodeo, stranger?" 

Righto mate!
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Quoll looked up, startled at the sound of a voice. The words were familiar in an odd sort of way, for the most part, but the way they were said was all wrong. “Uh… what?” the young tom meowed in confusion. The snow mink bengal sat back on his hind legs and stood up, swaying as he balanced on two paws while trying to see and smell the cat who had quite suddenly appeared on his border. “Mmm who’re you? An’ wha’ ‘n da world are you saying?” Quoll dropped back to his four paws and tilted his head.

Despite the strangeness of her way of speaking, the sleek tom found himself more curious and bewildered than afraid. He trotted closer and evaluated the possibility of jumping up to join her. He had never stood on one of his borders like other cats had and he was very tempted to do so, but he flicked a paw and chose to sit down instead. Truth be told, he had always been afraid of seeing what was beyond the boundaries. His old friends had always had such wonderful tales of the world beyond and he didn’t want to risk taking away the beauty of his own imagination by actually seeing it. Not to mention he had never tried to jump that high and he simply didn’t want to look like a fool if he failed to make the jump elegantly, or at all.

“Can’ say I’ve smelled you before, mate. Wha’s ya name?” Quoll chirped brightly. As odd as her way of speaking was, he didn’t want to be unfriendly. “Also! ‘Ave ya seen Manny about? The old bugger is usually tryna get my grub by now, but he ain’t been about from the looks o’ things.” The thought that something had happened to his friend made the pale tom duck his head somewhat, concerned about the she-cat’s potential reply. “Also wha’ happened to muh tree? Where da maggie gonna sing from now?” It could be said that one of Quoll’s default reactions to uncertain situations was to blab about and ask questions until he found his footing in the situation.

Kindness goes a long way, but don't mistake it for weakness.

༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･🦋༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･

The accent of the cat almost caught Duchess off guard, but she was no stranger to the idea of a different way of speaking, but that sure was a creative way to talk if Duchess ever saw anything like it. The black and white coated she-cat slipped down into the yard. "Well I'll be, that's quite a drawl you got there!" She cheered with a light laugh, flicking her tail again, more-a-less in fascinated interest than anything else. "You ain't from around these parts, are ya?" she added, glancing to where the stranger had been so insistent on the existence of a tree and shook her head.

"I ain't never seen no 'Manny' 'round here, nor has there ever been a tree where you reckon there was, bless your heart." She confessed, Duchess had come to visit Whitehart so much that she almost knew every nook and cranny of it by heart. She knew what she was talking about and it showed in her tone. "Where in tarnation do you think you are, stranger?"

It was after she spoke her questions, she shook her head, she hadn't even answered his first one! "Oh, hush my mouth! I'm called Duchess, I live at the farmhouse where the waters flow, pretty as you please." she purred, shaking out the almost mane-like ruff of fur on her neck. "But enough about me, don't want to beat a dead horse." She spoke, Duchess was never really one to talk about herself, but she would rather simply have other cats tell her about themselves, not for information, but for a friendly sort of curiosity.

"What do folks call you?"

Righto mate!
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The more this she-cat spoke, the more confused Quoll became. Her words were strange and warped and he couldn’t imagine why she spoke so differently. “What? Could like, talk normal please? I carn’t work out wha’ the bloody bat yer sayin’.” The snow mink bengal shook his head in frustration. It was bad enough that everything looked and smelled different, but now this she-cat had to go on saying weird things that made no sense. “This is my home, an’ I mightn’t know why it look different but it’s still my home!” Quoll added irritably. It hadn’t occurred to him that all that time in the rumble rooms had carried him a great distance, to him they were more like obnoxious portal to places he didn’t like. It had all been quite stressful too and he didn’t want to admit that his home had looked incredibly different too. He needed something, anything, to be normal or he might just lose his wits.

“There’s always been a tree there!” Quoll exclaimed in confusion. Frustration and annoyance were making his fur puff up slightly. “The bloody magpies always sat in it, singin’ there pretty songs before squawking up an earful! I know wha’ I seen! I know wha’ I been lis’en’en to my whole bloody life!” The young tom lashed his tail. “Mebe it’s you who’s confused!” It was scary to consider that she might be right and that he was somewhere new and unfamiliar. Too scary to consider. “What a bloody joke,” Quoll muttered to himself. It had to be. Just one big prank to confuse him. It weren’t funny though and he hoped his anger would make this she-cat stop with her game.

“Duchess?” The introduction calmed Quoll somewhat. At least this weird speaking cat had a somewhat normal sounding name, albeit a bit uppity. He could honestly see her fitting in with the prissy princesses that lived spoiled lives. Honestly those types had made him hate being cared for by his Fur and it made complete sense that one would try to prank him. He was supposed to be distinguished from the strays he liked to talk to and they felt he was beneath them due to tainting himself by talking to the muck. Not that the white and cream tom cared. Those strays had been the truest friends he’d ever known. Especially Manny. A pang of loneliness hit Quoll’s heart and he deflated as he once more wondered where his best bud had gone.

“Huh?” Quoll mewed, pulled from his thoughts. “Oh, uh, Quoll, like spotted quoll or Eastern quoll, but without the firs’ bit. The young tom shrugged and looked around his garden. His space, that was no longer his. Quoll shivered as though a cloud had cast a shadow over just him, although nothing had changed. His own sadness had made him cold as he thought about all the various little differences he had been noticing. Differences he had been determinedly ignoring and making excuses for. What if Duchess was right and the old gum had never grown here? What if he really wasn’t “from around these parts”? “Am I… Am I really not home?” he mumbled quietly, fearfully, as he looked up at Duchess, his blue eyes wide with desperation for her to tell him it was all just a big joke and everything was okay.

Kindness goes a long way, but don't mistake it for weakness.

༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･🦋༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･

The confusion of the younger cat wasn't lost on Duchess, if he was confused by the way she spoke, then he'd have a struggle wrapping his brain around the fancy talk of the Von Noons or whatever those fancy royalty cats thought they were. She dipped her head slowly before slipping down into the yard from the fenceline, but not advancing towards Quoll, she kept as much distance as he did. "My words might be as strange as yours 'round these parts, stranger, but it'd feel wrong to talk any other way, I reckon." she replied, however outlandish and non-sensical it might appear to sound to Quoll, a lot of the prissy cats here would find him to talk utter gibberish. But she understood just fine.

"I ain't sayin' it ain't your home now." Duchess replied when he spoke of homes and rambled of what he saw as a stupid joke, but unfortunately for him she was not joking, not yet anyway. "But the home you're a-thinkin' of ain't here, no sir." She added, glancing around, not really hesitating when she took a single step forward, testing the waters, if he didn't hiss or growl at her, she would make sure that it was appropriate to close the distance, until then, her paw rested a single step closer.

Duchess dipped her head at his final question, both a nod and an admission at the same time. It wasn't necessarily comforting, but she wasn't sure how receptive Quoll would be to that. "You ain't where you were, that's for sure. But that don't mean it won't feel like somethin' warm after a spell." she added with the softest of her tones, no moving from the place she tested her movements. "You're just... not where you used to be, plain as day."

For a moment, Duchess sighed, thinking of words to say that could help this cat, she knew she couldn't help every cat, but that didn't mean she was going to stop trying. "I don't usually come 'round these parts much, mostly just to see a friend of mine, y'know. But I know my way 'round like the back of my paw." she began, her voice a little more inviting and welcoming. "I could help ya get settled if you wouldn't mind havin' me, that is." and such, the offer was made. Whether Quoll wanted a guide or not was his choice.

Righto mate!
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Quoll’s head spun with the mental overload of everything going on. It was all wrong. All different. He felt out of place. Lost. His words were strange? But he spoke like every cat back home. It was at that thought that a cold claw struck his heart and the snow mink bengal crouched down, trying to make himself a small ball. The next words that Duchess spoke only sunk the claw in even further. “Then… wh-where… where am I?” he mewed, gaze utterly distraught as he looked up at the black and white she-cat on his… was it his? On the border of the garden he found himself in.

Quoll shivered as though a bitter wind blew over him. He felt frigid with the ice settling in his heart and when Duchess began to move toward him, he made no motion to tell her off. What did he care? He had never been particularly territorial anyway, but now the space wasn’t even his to be defending even if he felt inclined to do so. Besides, he felt so very alone and even though she spoke utterly weird, he kind of wanted the comfort. “But my family… my friends… they’re all gone if this isn’t home,” he meowed in a hollow tone, gazing emptily. “I mean… it’s been forevar since I seen Roo or Bilby but… I always… I mean I was going to… but now I carn’t…”

The young bengal tom felt at a complete loss for how to act. He wanted to bawl like a kit whose toy had been taken away. He would never see Roo or Bilby now. Not Manny either. Nor any of the other various strays and housecats that he used to talk to when they swung by his garden. Quoll stared around this new garden with a pit in his stomach. He would have to start over like he had when his Fur had first taken him away from his family. He had done it then, he could do it now, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

Quoll nodded absently as Duchess spoke of the friend she came to visit and how she wasn’t from the area herself. “How can I settle?” he meowed sadly and returned his blue gaze to the pretty she-cat. “Everything is different. It’s all gone. An’ I can never go back.” The snow mink bengal returned to gazing around the garden. “Not even the plants are the same. I mean some are, but the ones I loved the most… I carn’t smell them. And the bird song… I’m nevar gonna hear that maggie again, am I?” Quoll closed his eyes and held back his tears. Was he strong enough to survive all this change?

Kindness goes a long way, but don't mistake it for weakness.

༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･🍋‍🟩༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･

"You're fixin' to be in a tiny little spot called Whitehart" Duchess answered the rosetted tom-cat with a soft and gentle tone, hoping not to make his mood worse. She shuffled closer, testing the distance to make sure that it didn't impeach on his personal space. "Reckon it's a heap different from where you used to dwell... huh." the southern drawling she-cat added. She did truly feel bad for the young tom, she had always lived every day in the farmhouse where she was born, moving away seemed so entirely foreign that she couldn't imagine what it was like. But she was still there for the younger cat, because who else would be?

Duchess dipped her head at his woes about his friends and kin being gone, not quite a unique feeling for Duchess, but still something couldn't fully relate herself to. But she would try, for this snappy little stranger. "They ain't truly gone unless you let 'em slip your mind." She began, the white tip of her tail giving a little, thoughtful twitch. "They'll be livin' in your heart, and just cause you can't lay eyes on 'em don't mean they ain't right there with ya." she used a spare paw to gently place the pads on his chest where his heart would rest. She had friends that came and went, she knew that much.

For a moment, she was silent as she pulled her paw away from Quoll's fur and gave it a brief grooming, then turned to speak again "As much as you're a-longin' for 'em, the world don't always work that way. But don't you go thinkin' you're all alone in this, plenty of cats have felt the same ache." She murmured softly, this time, draping the tip of her tail over Quoll's shoulders as he spoke of what he was supposed to do now, how he was to settle and how he would never experience the unique experiences of his old life again, she gave a soft, understanding not before speaking again. "Maybe not, but them memories ain't all you're gonna have, and you shouldn't toss 'em aside for new ones either"

"I'll be swingin' by now and then." She began as if she were about to make an offer, but she kept her tone soft and gentle, as it was before. "I ain't goin' nowhere soon, so you'll have your ol' pal Duchess to keep ya company when it gets lonesome."

Righto mate!
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Quoll nodded silently at Duchess’ assessment that where he was now was rather different from what he knew. “I thought… maybe… well hoped… that it had just been the change in cycle that Manny talked abou’. He… well, he used to say tha’ the days would grow warm an’ den cold after a long time an’ that this change made the plants change colour an’ all.” The pale tom sighed and stared at his paws. “I s’pose I won’ get to see that now.” Misery welled in Quoll’s heart. His life seemed to be constant change that he didn’t ask for or seek. He half expected that once he did eventually settle into this new life like he had after being taken away from his family, it would all change again. A wave of anxiety hit the tom, along with resentment toward his Fur. It had been him, after all, who had packed him into that box and sent him into the rumble rooms that led to here.

The young tom tilted his head. “But I ain’t never gonna see ‘em again, am I?” he half wailed in distress. This change was just almost too much to bear. He had been taken his family and it had been the hope that he would meet them again that had kept him going, but this time that hope didn’t even exist. “It was bad enough when he took me away from them the first time, but this time I can’ even hope to see anyone… or anything I knew again.” Quoll slumped down, laying pitifully on the grass at Duchess’ paws.

After a while the bengal tom looked up at Duchess, his grief plain in his blue eyes. “I don’t want to stay here,” he mewed quietly. “Not with him. He keeps changing my life the moment I get to enjoy it.” Quoll sighed heavily. “But I can’ leave either. I wouldn’t last two spits of rain before something happened. I can’ hunt, fight, or even know how teh find shelter. Wha’ am I gonna do? Wha’ should I do?” Never before in his short life had Quoll considered leaving his Fur, but now, knowing that the creature could cause such devastation to his heart, his desire to stay in his cosy life had almost completely vanished. Fear kept him from deciding to finally leap his boundary and explore, but a sort of desperation to do just that was now welling in the young tom’s heart. He would be smart about it though. Learn how to do the things Manny and the other strays had always spoke about when mocking or admiring his lifestyle.

Kindness goes a long way, but don't mistake it for weakness.

༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･🍋‍🟩༄✧･ﾟ:✿ :ﾟﾟ･

Duchess lowered her muzzle at the young cat's sorrow and let out a sigh, no cat of his age deserves to feel such anguish... no cat. "I ain't sayin' never, sugar, but there's gonna come a day when you gotta face the fact you can't see 'em." she spoke softly, letting Quoll release his emotions, but she found no point in lying to him. "Some things are just set in stone, even if it sits wrong with us." Duchess had lost her fair share of cats in her time. Her ma was getting a little up there in age too...

As he went on, her ears perked as he spoke of his skills, or... lack-there-of. "Don't know your way 'round a hunt or a scrap, do ya?" She added, trying to lighten his mood with a tone with more enthusiasm bleeding into it. Hopefully he offer would land. "Well, honey, I can show ya the ropes. I ain't the toughest dog in the fight, but I can teach ya enough to keep your hide intact." she offered with a smile at the pale pelted tom, she stood, stretching out her limbs before moving closer to the young cat.

Her offer still hung in the air, but she didn't press for anything, simply spoke in that honeyed tone that she always used. Charming to some, but never abrasive or pushy. "And hunting'll take you mighty far with the right guide. I'll give it my best shot, if that's what your heart's set on." and thus, the offer was made.