They tell you to save special things for rainy days. But I get especially tired when it rains, I don't know if I could do anything more than I normally would, never mind something special. But I should give it a shot seeing as sitting around is very difficult for me.
I scarf down my food as always, something Chocola prepared for me. It had a bit of a sweet taste to it. She probably snuck some chocolate in there. I guess it doesn't matter, I eat so fast I barely taste it, anyway. Taking care my animals is my first priority, today. I throw a jean jacket over my shoulders and sort out my tools quickly. I can only carry about four tools to the barn, they aren't as heavy as they used to be but I only have two arms! Wish I had more... I always get a very enthusiastic greeting from my chickens. I think I have a real soft spot for them, they're the first faces I go see in the morning. Especially with Mutt guarding the crops, now. After checking them head-to-toe, petting them, collecting the eggs, tidying up a little and laying out some feed, I move on to the cows quickly for similar treatment. One little normally-enthusiastic calf seemed to give me a dejected look. I really wish I could let her out to play in good conscience. But she'll just have to hold out until the rain passes. I think when she gets older, she'll be more understanding. Like her mother. My animals are easy to understand, aren't they?
I set my tools back in my box, reflexively shaking off the rain. But of course I'm already soaked through. It's hitting hard, today. Since I'm already wet, I might as well do some errands. Now with a much lighter load to carry, I head towards the path to town. Even when it rains, I can find happiness in my surroundings. I really like the smell of rain- I can taste the fresh air. I can smell the grass and dirt. Something so pure and simple brings me a lot of peace. This does improve my mood as I'm being pelted by water droplets. I hurried my pace until I cut through the town, entering Ken's home. I'd swear he was a fisherman the way he sports clothes, normally. Even a workaholic like Ken doesn't push himself on rainy days. Especially a Sunday. He's bent over a beautiful wooden easel desk, covered in sketches layered with vellum pages and corrections. There are pencils, shavings, rulers of all kinds scattered about.
"Ken, it's not fair you can keep working indoors like that. You're running laps around me." I tease. Ken is always encouraging me to work hard, almost like a father would. But he's much friendlier than that when you get to talking to him.
"Ah- Pete. I don't think you're built to stay indoors. But you aren't exactly immune to colds, are you?" He chuckles. "Have a seat. I'll make us some matcha." There's a short pause "-I was about to take a break anyway." Of course not, he was in the thick of something considering the messy desk. But Ken's very classy. I can't help but feel he especially goes out of his way for us. It's a small town, after all.
He's barely got a kitchen but he manages fine anyway, whipping out his paste and set, he begins working the matcha tea. I'm sure it's not very taxing for him. "Ken, I thought I'd come chat again since it's raining. I don't mind if you keep working, I'm not a very special guest." I try to sound extra sincere, just to try and coax him into being less accommodating. He lets out a hardy laugh and gestures his arms at me as he continues to prepare the tea.
"Pete, you can't deny you're my best customer in town! I have every reason to be courteous to you. But you are my friend, I'll behave, I promise." His smile and energy dies down, he's wearing his normal face, now. Something about this face makes me feel young and inexperienced, it's hardened but his expression is soft. His skin is rough and imperfect but his features have a nostalgic character that I just can't place. When Ken is truly himself, I feel I'm in the presence of someone worthy of respect and admiration. Shoes too big for me to fill. As he's a great friend and a man of few expectations, though, that sort of thing isn't necessary for anyone to do.
"Thanks!" He passes me a cup of tea, I gently caress it between my hands. It's just warm enough to feel through the ceramic but not very warm. Ken has specific habits. He makes his tea very strong, It's as if I was drinking the plant after a quick warm up on a wood stove.
"So, what happened? Normally, you don't really have a lot to talk about."
He's right. There aren't many unexpected things happening, here. I can't exactly talk about my animals or farming troubles for very long, it's very straightforward. Sometimes, if I really have to stay indoors, I'll go to the library instead. Mary has me reading all kinds of things. I'm mostly indifferent to topics, since all I want to do is pass time. I have learned a lot, though. I especially like all the legends and folktales she bought from neighbouring villages. Maybe some of them have more than one academic, they create a vast amount of work in comparison to Mary… "Pete. It's not like you to stay so still." He remarks as he sits back in his chair, taking a sip from his tea.
"Right. Ken, just last night I was walking through the mountains foraging as I like to at the end of the day and it started to rain-"
"That doesn't really surprise me much, Pete." He grins.
"Would you let me finish, you old stump?" I quip. He must enjoy our play at banter, as always, he genuinely smiles and gestures with his hand as if to say "go on, then."
"I was finishing up, placing the last of my spoils in my bag when I noticed something near the hot spring." His eyebrows raised a little and he took a bigger swig of tea. "I approached it, I was only a few feet from it when it moved. I think it was… Well i'm almost certain it was a cat!"
Ken pursed his lips a little and he threw in: "Why such a fuss over a stray in the rain?" He asks.
I know it sounds completely irrelevant but-
"-But, Ken! It was white and shone like gold." I quickly exclaim.
His eyebrows drew closer together, he rests his cup down on another table at arms reach and assumes a thinking pose. "Really?"
"Believe me, I'm almost certain I was still awake. I still have those items I foraged and everything." I add. I'm a little concerned myself. I know it's ridiculous and I should forget about it but it is a very strange thing to encounter, even in fiction. Ken slips his hand under his headband and scratches his forehead, miffed.
"Well, I can't say I know what that means. Maybe you should ask Cain. He's the sort who deals with those spiritual type things."
"Ken, he's religious not a-uhm. Psychic. I think.. is the word."
He grabs his cup, again, downing the rest of the tea. Honestly, that's the best way to go about it, sipping something this strong is pretty challenging… I sip some more tea.
"You know, Pete, before I met my wife I thought I saw something in the stars just the night before. It was a shooting star, I think. I didn't know it then, but it was a sign. Maybe you should see this as a sign. Mine was a measly star, but it changed my life. Maybe a whole gold cat could mean something even better!" You know, I don't think I've seen him talk like this before. Maybe he loves this sort of romantic thing.
"Well, I guess I'll find out either way, right? But since it's raining and I have nothing better to do, I suppose I'll just go look into it, now." I reassure him.
As per usual, he flashes a big smile and says "Go for it, Pete!"
So off I go, again, after a decent sit down with Ken. Cain is a little off-putting to me. Fantastic priest but he never talks about anything else… So I decide to visit Chet. If anyone knows anything about animals, It's Chet. Of course, the minute I walk through the door I'm acquainted with a new flock of chickens. "Oof." I hang onto the door and stiffen.
"Oh no- I'm so sorry Pete. Oh shoot. Hold on!" He sprints past his counter only to trip on a mountain of feed bags and land right at my feet. He looks up and squints, zeroing in on a chicken with intense determination, all the while, staying in the same pose as the one he fell in. "Don't move." He whispers without deviating his gaze. He slowly slinks up to his knees and POUNCES on the chicken. His inner child, his abundance of energy and youth despite being a bit older than me, never gets tiresome. "Pete. You should come in." He takes the single chicken back behind the counter as I'm still left covered with the rest of the chickens.
"..." I approach the counter and begin plucking the chickens off of me one by one, placing them on the counter.
"Did you come here looking to buy some more livestock? Your barn is already pretty full…" He carefully warned me, all with good intention, though. I can tell. Or, I think I can.
"Chet, have you seen a white stray lately?" I asked.
"I have to say I haven't ordered in any sheep, Pete, we don't even have anywhere to keep them until you build another barn…How would it even get loose..." He trailed off. I reflectively slapped my face with my palm.
"Chet. A stray cat. A pure white stray cat. It was very odd." I added. White cat's aren't technically odd. But glowing ones are definitely odd! How am I supposed to spread that through the entire town, though? I'd very much like to avoid being sent to the church for an exorcism under suspicion of being spiritually ill.
"Odd, huh? Well I suppose there aren't many cats around here. No one has one. I haven't spotted a stray one either, Pete. If there really is a cat out there, though, you should probably feed it. I can't see something like that surviving well on its own so far away from the nearest village…" He's obviously concerned, now.
"Don't worry, I don't have it in my heart to abandon an animal. If it hadn't run away before, I probably would have brought it to the barn at least. Poor thing was out in the rain." Although, I have to wonder if something like a glowing white cat functions like a normal cat.
"Well. I'll keep an eye out, now. That's for sure." Chet adds: "If I find it next, I'll adopt it for sure. You be certain to find it first if you want it for yourself."
"..." Why would I fight him over this cat?