La. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.
…
The Panda did not ask again
Where the Leopardess had come from,
Or what her name was.
She helped him where she could,
Always maintaining a distance from him.
He rather liked it that way.
The Panda did not care to be
Asked questions that would only
Upset him. He did not
Like to think about such things.
He tried to live his life in a
Permanent state of numbness. A
State of thoughtlessness. That was why he
Liked his garden. It was a place where he could
Care for the plants and flowers and
Protect them. Just like a family.
Perhaps he felt compelled to protect the
Garden because he felt that he had
Failed to protect his first family.
…
"I'll get the tea," Tigress said, standing up from her chair, cane in paw.
"No, I'll get it!" Po quickly replied, bouncing up to coax his wife back into the chair.
He walked over to her and placed his paw on her arm, but she suddenly jerked away from his touch.
"I'LL GET IT MYSELF, PO!" she suddenly shouted at him, stumbling forward as she did so.
La. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.
…
The Sickness on the grounds grew heavier and
Thicker. It was everywhere, choking all who could
Smell it. And the Leopardess could smell it.
It hovered in the Hall of Heroes. In the
Training Hall. In the barracks. But, the place it was
Strongest was the kitchen. There could be no
Doubt. The kitchen was spotless, kept clean both by
The Leopardess herself and by the occasional servant
Sent by the Goose. But, to a trained nose,
It reeked of Death and Despair. The Table was
Rotting of it.
And the Sickness was poisoning the Panda's
Mind. And, in response, his mind tried to devise
Ways to escape it. No matter the Cost.
No matter the Cost.
…
Po flinched back from Tigress's sudden outburst, but he quickly recovered and stepped forth to steady her as she stood wobbling. She turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
"Tigress?" Po asked her, his voice filled with a thousand emotions.
La. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.
…
One day, while the Panda was tending to his
Garden, the Leopardess did something she
Knew she was not supposed to. She entered the
Panda's bedroom, and looked around.
Atop the wardrobe was the object she
Was looking for.
The Musical Box.
She walked up to it, leaning down to examine
It.
It was made of a fine wood, painted black, with delicate,
Ornate carvings adorning its exterior.
But the Leopardess was not interested in
Decoration. There was a smell coming from the
Box. A smell that made her insides curl.
She slowly reached out with her paw,
But as soon as she touched the Musical Box,
Her paw recoiled in pain.
The Box burned her skin.
…
Tigress only shook her head as she pulled away from Po and headed back to her chair. She fell down upon it with a "thump!"
"Tigress?" Po asked once again, his voice breaking up.
"Don't, Po," Tigress answered back, her voice now barely audible. "Just don't."
La. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.
…
That night, in the Kitchen, while the
Panda was having his tea, the
Leopardess pulled out her piece of
Parchment, her pen, and her bottle of
Ink. The Panda watched her as she did so,
And his eyes widened when she turned the parchment
Around and it read
Who was she?
The Panda was taken very much off guard.
Didn't everyone in the Valley know what had happened?
He had certainly received enough words of
Condolence. Many of them. Far too many.
And so, the Panda only replied that everyone knew.
But, the Leopardess shook her head and wrote something
New on the parchment.
Who was she to you?
…
Po slowly approached Tigress's chair. He reached out with his paw to touch her shoulder, but the second his skin made contact with hers, she instinctively shrugged it off. The panda recoiled his paw in shock at first, and, slowly, it fell down his side.
Limp.
Numb.
Useless.
And still, the Box played its song.
La. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.
La, la, la, la, la. La-la. La-la…