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…