Kirika sits in front of her bedroom window, picking at the peeling shade of white covering the window pane, her mind in another place. Pulling herself from her thoughts momentarily, she smiles when she spots the black ball of fluff on her bed, curled up into himself and purring even in his sleep. The fire in his eyes is dimmer now, covered with his closed eyelids - too tired to be fierce or fearsome. Every so often he wakes up again; pulling himself from the depths of sleep just before he falls too deep, but then he falls again and he's floating once more - only for the cycle to repeat.

She knows he doesn't really trust her. Not yet, at least.

That's why he's trying so desperately to sleep lightly, to not fall into a deep sleep like he usually did. He feels defenseless, vulnerable.

She knew that.

Kirika looks away, staring back out the window and down on the rest of the street and into the little alleyway she could kind of see out of her window - if she craned her head a little and leaned on the cool glass. She sighs at the cold concrete empire.

Were you lonely out there, Mr. Cat?

Brick walls stand on either side of the tiny alleyway outside her house, littered with brown cardboard boxes and pieces of old wood. Metal trash cans. Halves of burgers and takeaway still wrapped. Moss grows on the walls and weeds grow from the cracks in the concrete, sprouting ou