81st of Summer, 453AV
Nearing midnight
Nearing midnight
'It began, as many stories do, with a dark and stormy night. In this night, there was a city. In this city, there was a slum. In this slum, there was a house. On this house, there was a roof, and on this roof, there was a boy. He was a little lad, just a couple bells shy of thirteen, lying on his stomach, and staring out to sea. His parents had long since went to sleep, but he had reason to remain awake. One, and chiefly, to witness his own birthday before everyone else, and two, to make wonder at the roiling seas and booming thunder.
Of course, a part of him, the fisher, more than anything, knew what storms were, and what they did. They were bothersome, mundane, and occasionally dangerous. But for a much larger part, the blanket of rain and flash of lightning called for a story. For why could the thunder not be the roar of a sea monster, and why could the crack of lightning not be Zulrav doing battle? It was silly, fanciful, and childish.
And Igon absolutely loved it. It was a simple little game one could play with oneself, and a potent means of escape from a frankly unglamorous lifestyle. Normally, it was played by oneself- that particular sort of play was one reserved for the little ones, and that particular boy did not want to draw any more unpleasant attention to himself- but, by coincidence, he manged to catch another in the middle of a fantasy. Or perhaps catch is the wrong word?
Trip would be much closer. Igon heard, perhaps, the faintest hint of a high pitched squeal, followed closely by a clap of thunder, and then by the most curious sensation upon his side, akin to getting kicked by a very uncommitted bully. Soon after he felt what was most certainly legs upon his back, along with a rather loud "Oof!"
Jolting out of his little battle between titans, the fisher's son propped himself up on his elbows and jerked his head around to catch a glimpse of that which had oofed on him.
It was, perhaps a tad unsurprisingly, a girl of the same age as Igon, still flat and untouched by womanhood, who had, quite literally, run into him. And she too was propping herself up and craning her neck to locate her most uncomfortable stumbling block.
"Oh... Sorry!" she squeaked, pulling herself to her feet again. "I didn't see you."
"Don't worry about it..." Igon replied, "But, erm... What are you doing up here?"
A faint blush came to the girl's cheeks at that, and she drew her limbs up to herself a little bit more before answering, "Running."
The fisher's boy chuckled at that, rolling over onto his back to avoid hurting his neck. "Just running?"
His question was answered by a mangy little tabby cat hopping onto their roof and rubbing herself against the girl with a mew. "Well... Sort of."
"Running from kitty?"
It wasn't difficult to figure out- the cat was obviously familiar with her, and given its prompt appearance, was likely nearby. Since she rephrased her answer, that likely meant it had something to do with her running.
His guess was confirmed by the little lass's nod. Igon chuckled at that, "He doesn't look mean."
"She. And she isn't... I was just..." her cheeks reddened further before she fell silent again.
"Playing?"
Another nod, and a ghost of a smile.
"Why is that embarrassing, then?"
The girl resembled a tomato when she rounded on Igon, bent over, and jabbed a little finger in his face. "You! You're too smart for your own good, you."
The lad flinched a little at the sudden movement- such a gesture was usually less than playful.- and a half-murmured "Sorry." preceded his next statement. "Yes, but you didn't say why."
The cat whisperer's lips pursed, and she straightened with folded arms before saying, "You're weird. So I'll tell you."
Odd, but he would take it. For Igon, learning something new, even something silly like a little girl's hobby, was something delightful, and the fisher's boy sat up to hear better. The girl, for her part, turned away.
"It was dark, and she was very loud and shrill, kind of like a Wailer, so...."
"You pretended she was one and ran?" Igon was grinning now. She couldn't have been younger than ten, and yet she too! Maybe girls just had different rules, but it was worth hoping- wasn't it?
"Yes. You can laugh now."
"No!"
She turned around and quirked an eyebrow in confusion at that. "I was doing the same!" Even through the rain, Igon could see the girl's eyes light up. "There were shadows out at sea, and thunder. It's not like I actually -thought- there was anything there..."
"It's not like I'm childish, it's just..."
"Fun to pretend." They said that at the same time. The girl was squatting down with her forearms resting on her knees now, and a massive smile slapped across her face. "What's your name?"
"Igon!" There was another! Actually another! And she was the same age as him! The poor little asthmatic could practically cry. "What's yours?"
"I'm Philomena. And this," she took a moment to grab the poor little cat underneath her front legs and hoist her up for Igon to see, "is Alley."
"Alley Cat?"
Philomena nodded with a giggle before Alley wormed her way out of the horrible hands holding her with an indignant "mrow!"
The rest of the night was spent on that rooftop, spinning stories of cats and storms and the sea, until Alley dozed off, the gulls started honking, and some very concerned sailors started swearing at them. It was grand.'
