An Orange Tabby Named Erik

Then, the listener was surprised for until now, the book had never emitted a sound. Her thoughts could be heard. It was her voice, but it seemed rather distant, and her lips did not move. Her voice was innocent and full of love. It was gentle and musical, enough to show that she had not yet regained memory of her banishment. She told the orange tabby,
“Oh, Erik I’m so glad you came. I was getting lonely. I hope Tom took great care of you. I have something I want to give you.” With that she gently put the cat down and energetically bounded back in the tree. Her face was dominated by a radiant almost mindless smile.
As she climbed, the cat stayed on the ground and watched her with wiser more knowing eyes. He leaned his head to the right a bit to show that he was positively curious about what he saw.
When she returned, she carried with her the remnants of a wild hare, cooked and ready to be eaten. She gave this generous gift (for it was the middle of winter) to the tabby that she had grown so attached to. Erik looked longingly at the incredible offering. But before he began to work at it, he thought, he paused, and looked deep into the eyes of the young girl smiling before him. The listener is again startled by sound as Erik think-says,
“For this magnificent offering, and all the other things you have, before this day, given me, I, too, shall give you a great gift.” Her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity wondering what a house cat could possible have to offer her. But Erik continued, “As you know, you possess a gift that very few humans do. You have the power to communicate with the heart of a feline. And in this way you have brought me, and many others of my race, great things and great joy. Most of all, though, your pure love for us has taught us the power of loyalty. And in return for this, we wish to extend your power to lend a fellow kitten a helping hand. We wish to bring out your inner soul and remind you how to attain our form.”
She was surprised by what she had just heard, for she had never thought much of the deeds she had done for her beloved kittens. And that she, a nameless stranger could attain the form of her greatest and closest friend would be a gift so great, that it hardly seemed conceivable in her mind. But given all that she had accomplished in her (remembered) lifetime and he naivety, she knelt on the ground, in order to be closer to Erik and asked him,
“How are you going to do that? How will you bring out the soul of a person who is soulless? How will you render you perfection onto my imperfect human body and mind?” Erik seemed not the least moved by these questions. He looked deep into her bottomless eyes and said,
“By teaching you what a soul is. And by drawing the imperfection out of you, one drop of blood at a time.” Her eyes widened. The seriousness in Erik’s thought drew her back a bit, and so did his constant stare.
But she could not look away, for Erik had drawn her into a spell. Both were lost in a powerful trance. Neither saw the physical world before them anymore. What passed between them that day has been lost forever, but the motionless ritual came to an end hours later, as a blood-red sun began to overpower the horizon. Suddenly both their essences returned to their bodies and they could see again. Both blinked. Erik’s eyes remained fixed on her waiting for her to be ready to begin again. As for her, she looked around, not too sure of where she was or whether it was real or not. Finally her eyes drifted back to the orange tabby.
“Come closer.” He told her. He seemed to beckon her forth as if he had a secret to tell her. And so, she leaned forward only inches away from Erik’s face. And before she could grow uncertain of what she was doing, he sat up slightly on his hind legs and licked her nose. The sudden movement made her draw back automatically, but she quickly fell forward again and began to cough a horrible deep-chested cough. Soon blood began to flow from her lips and to gather in a small pool in the snow before her. She continued to cough and the blood flowed smoothly. Erik sat patiently, looking as concerned as if he were watching a horse ride past his favorite window.
Finally, her coughing fit ended as the blood flow did. Her lips were stained a pure red hue, and her face was as pale as her robes and the snow around her. She looked up and around and blinked as if the world were spinning out of control.
“Don’t try to get up.” Said Erik, “You are too weak. Listen as I explain. Soon it will all make sense and you will not be so afraid.” She looked squarely at Erik as he said the word, “afraid,” and cursed herself in her heart for her weakness.
“The blood flow is, as you have described it, imperfection. And it will leave you body in little bits. Each day will bring forth one, and soon two and as time passes, they will come more frequently. The day that brings forth five red floods will be the day that all that must leave you will have left. That day, we will visit the cat’s form and mind. Until that day, have patience and remember that God is merciful. He will not let my gift bring your downfall.” She blinked a few time, thinking about perhaps, but not fully realizing the significance of Erik’s words. “After your first transformation, the human world will continue to have an effect on you. So more frequently right after the transformation, and less frequently as time wears on, your body will have to keep ridding itself of building human influences. The floods will never cease. They will always be a reminder of your imperfect nature and of your great gift.” Erik did not believe that she fully understood her duty now given this new gift, but he also knew that her fragile mind could take no more this night.
“Now you will rest, and we will meet again on the morrow.” With those words, she seemed to be released from a mighty grip and fell into a deep sleep. Erik covered her from head to toe with her pure white cloak and cowled her face in order to protect it from the midnight chill. As he turned to leave, he ran his body against her back, as any loyal cat would do to loving master. He walked home solemnly from there, never looking back, never blinking, and hardly daring to let himself reflect on the events of that night.
She slept until in the innocent sun rose, with a tiny smile on her face and a thought of kittens playing, in her dreams.

Upon sunrise, Erik returned to the tree at which he had left his pupil. He smiled when he reached the tree, for covered in her cloak, she was indiscernible from the snow. Nothing could be seen there but a frozen pool of dried blood. Erik nuzzled his cold nose up to her neck in hopes to wake her. Half awake, she reached out and hugged her best friend, the memory of the past night had not yet returned to her.
“Rise, my love, for it is morning. Rise it is time to learn, it is time to live, it is time to begin anew.”

…Faint and blurry memories pass by of Erik and her studying, living and learning. Memories of other cats, some angry, some delighted. Memories of endless crimson streams. Memories of snow and the unkindness of man. Memories of love and good deeds. Memories of anger and mistakes…

The image came into focus again on the very day of the five red floods. It was the first day of spring. The snow had melted away. The sun felt more confident. And the trees were slowly arousing from an eternal sleep.
Erik had been spending everyday with her lately sensing that the day of five floods was approaching. He walked through the familiar woods with her and tried to keep her mind occupied as he counted her “episodes”. As an orange and purple sun set, Erik counted a fifth flood. She knelt over the shadowed ground and let her imperfections pour out of her without a single objection. She felt faint and weak, though she would not admit to it, for she had lost much blood that day.
When it all ended, her legs felt leadened, she was too weak to get up. She put her hands on the ground before her to keep herself from collapsing forward.
“You can feel it in you heart. Let it be free. Run with the weightless burden of freedom. Be who you are…” Erik continued to whisper encouragements, knowing that nothing he said truly made a difference, the success of his spell was entirely in her hands now.
The last thing that she wanted to do, was let Erik down after all the hard they had put into this endeavor. She looked deep inside her heart and sought the freedom that Erik spoke of. A freedom that she had longed for her entire life. Freedom from the burden of life. The lifting of a weight that allows you to run freely with pure glee.
As her heart found this conclusion, it felt the glee that it sought and ran, ran away to the promise land knowing that there were no regrets and knowing that there was no guilt. As her heart ran from her, her body raced to catch up to it, forming around her the body of a lively kitten. This form allowed her to run even faster, and to feel even more free.
She had no mind, she simply ran to her heart’s desire…
…She was a pure white kitten. Her fur was short and carried, like her cloak, the hue of the snow. Her eyes, like before, were of a pure endless black, only now, they seemed enlightened. If possible, they were more brilliant than ever. Her tail was long, her nose was small and pink, and her ears were slender and graceful…
Finally, her young legs grew weary and her mind told her heart that freedom could not last forever. She returned to Erik and reassumed her human form. She swept Erik up in her arms and collapsed on the ground, weeping. Erik, on his part had a happiness on his face so pure that his feline features could not justly portray it. And at the same time, he breathed a sigh so deep that one would have believed that he had held all the air of this planet in his lungs.
The memory faded away and she closed the book…
Attached
“The youth just now shown to me…is not you…” He looked into her deep and empty eyes. Their eternal sorrow simply could not mirror the innocence in that carefree child.
She looked back silently, thinking of the thousands of years her eyes had witnessed. Any eye would surrender its innocence to the cruelty of man.
She opened the book again, to a further blank page. She began whispering indiscernible words. An image floated by briefly. An image of a miniature grave. Wept by the little snow hued girl. The loss of her greatest friend…
Days swam by of the young girl wandering the woods alone, not a day older. Timed passed on without her. Her love passed on without her. She simply could not go…
The images slowed and came into focus as one was finally chosen. It was an early fall day. The leaves only just finding worldly hues. The lonely girl sat high in her favorite tree, on the thickest bough, shielded by countless leaves.
She seemed absorbed in her own thoughts. Silent and elsewhere, she did not notice.
A child, a young human boy, ran through the woods aimlessly. Heart racing, tears running. Running from something only he could see. Tired to his ends, he tripped and fell in the leaves. Still sobbing, he clumsily got up and climbed the tree whose feet he had fallen at. In his eyes, his savior.
He climbed high enough to far away enough from that which he was fleeing. His sobs were abating. But he still could not see for the tears flooding his eyes. He took a faulty step and the branch below him gave way with an enormous crack. The child screamed as he fell several feet down. He landed on a strong branch and suddenly went limp.
She had awoken to the unearthly cracking and heard the child scream. She moved out a little on her branch and saw that he had climbed a tree but a few steps from hers.
She saw him now, limp on that cruel branch. She climbed his tree to examine him while he could not see her.
She froze, though, as she saw his face. Relaxed and peaceful, lost in a simple dream. Simply depicting the innocence her face and dreams had lost. She watched him as he slept, exhausted from his escape.
She reached out to touch his face, entranced by the beauty of his young human face. As she did, he moved a little in his sleep and began to slip off the branch.
Startled, she could not think of what to do as he fell freely towards the fatal ground. Not totally aware of what she did, she slid automatically from the tree and landed softly on the ground. Silently, she moved below him and caught him before he reached the ground.
He continued to sleep in her arms with his beautiful baby face. A tear rolled down her cheek as she watched him, and landed on his nose. And still he slept.
She put him on the ground softly, taking care for his comfort. Then she ran, too, silently from something only she perceived.
The image cleanly faded, but she did not close the book. She looked once into his endless purple eyes, and began flipping a bit further into the book, whispering again.

And what follows is the role play. The boy is the same little boy.