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ChromeSilver_Hwaa
Upon the question of her preferences, the cat frowns.
"You would be doing me a favor," she answers flatly, her crackly voice low.
"I am in no place to be selective."
Then, she dips her head just slightly.
"Thank you. I will not raise a claw against you."
The cat observes Strawberry as she draws closer, tensing for a moment before pushing herself to ease.
"I have not thought of that in a very long time," she admits to Strawberry. Truthfully, remembering seemed painful. Something had happened, and happened for a very long time. The older cat was tired and in some way, reluctant to open her mind to those things she'd apparently left behind. Her lethargy, her dulled senses, and the wasted muscle of a forest cat used to a life of wilderness spoke volumes.
But when did she come to be out here, rousing in a cave in the middle of Stars-knows where?
"You can call me Nectar, though. That seems close enough."