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CottonBall walks to the Giving Tree, for he was about to mut-check some of his children, and he wanted to grab a cub from the tree before he did. As he came up to the tree, he heard some rustling in the branches, so he looked up. A small cub was looking back at him, a small bird was on a nearby branch. The cub narrowed her eyes before she sighed and hopped down.
“Hello, my name is Trix. My mother didn’t make it after I was born and none of the other mothers wanted a mutated cub. I don’t care though, I can take care of myself just fine.” As she spoke, the bird landed on her tail and began grooming her fur. Trix looked at the bird and smiled slightly before her face returned to a frown. She moved her tail and the bird hopped onto her back and settled down, clearly tired.
“What do you want anyway? There are plenty of cubs here that need a home,” she spoke, clearly annoyed at CottonBalls presence.
“Well, young one, I think I know who I’m taking with me,” CottonBall said, his head held high. Trix tilted her head, still annoyed but curious.
“You, Trix, are coming home with me.” When CottonBall finished speaking, she picked the cub up by her scruff and walked back to his territory, knowing Trix and Cherry would likely get along well.
Dear Cherry,
I don’t often express how I feel, but I wanted to take a moment to write this. You know me—I’m not one for sentimental words, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that your presence in my life means more to me than I usually let on. I’ve always been someone who prefers solitude, a lioness content in her own quiet world, yet you somehow found a way to break through. Despite my cold demeanor, you’ve stuck by me, and that’s something I don’t take for granted.
I can’t deny how much your joyfulness has balanced my reserved nature. You have this ability to light up the darkest corners of my heart with your laughter and energy. Your optimism, though a bit too much for me at times, brings a sense of warmth that I never knew I needed. It’s as if you have an innate understanding of me, knowing when to push and when to step back. That kind of friendship is rare, and I’m grateful for it.
There are moments when I feel lost in my thoughts, consumed by my own quiet world, and yet, without fail, you’re there with a joke, a smile, or a simple gesture that reminds me there’s more to life than what I allow myself to see. I can’t say I always understand how you do it, but it’s impossible to ignore the value of your presence. You’ve taught me, without even realizing it, how to soften, how to let the walls I’ve built come down—just a little.
So, thank you, Cherry. For being the one who knows me better than I know myself. For offering me your friendship, even when I can be distant. And for showing me that joy isn’t just an emotion—it’s a force that can change the world, even a world as guarded as mine.
Yours,
Trix
Accidentally gave her an egg yolk T-T nothing happened
-17/2/25 roughly, 20:43-20:44
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