grizabella was much more brighter in recent weeks and she looked particularly overjoyed when she walked over to skimbleshanks. "can we talk?" she asked lightly. ( ask--grizabella )
Skimbleshanks had been reading a book Exotica had loaned him, reclining on top of his den in the sun. The dark metal of the gutted oven made for an excellent place to sit and be warm. Happy to see her bright and out and about, the yellow tabby moved over with a smile, patting a spot next to him, “A-course! Care ta join me?” She had seemed to blossom recently and he was glad to see her looking so well.
@ask–grizabella
grizabella took a seat next to skimble, she felt so . . charmed recently, her mind had been on an older tom, one that she couldn’t help but think of all the time. “i . . i’ve fallen in love.” she insisted, her paws gripped at the fur near her chest with a smile on her face. “with a handsome tom . .” she added. she was still surprised at who it was . . she was sure skimbleshanks would be too, but she was sure he’d be okay! it was all a fascinating subject for her. love, she hadn’t felt it in so long. she had been touched but she hadn’t been loved. there was a sparkle in her eyes. “his . . name is uh — ” she was nervous before speaking in a small voice, as if she was a kitten. “growltiger.” a pirate, of course she had. she was always so dreamy about them as a kitten.
Love! Of course, that would be it. Skimbleshanks hung on her words, eager to hear who the lucky tom was. It was about time the tribe started to get over themselves. An excited smiled was plastered on his face. Until it wasn’t. There wasn’t much that could trip up Skimbleshanks, but hearing a dead legendary cat’s name was one of them. Slowly, he tilted his head, “I think I misheard you. Did you say Growltiger? Were his parents fans of the story?” Tumblebrutus’ name came from one of his shipmates, if Skimbleshanks recalled correctly, but it was unusual to hear the name of the pirate himself. Most assumed it would be disrespectful to the pirate’s particular name. Which could only mean one thing… One thing that would very hard to believe.
“he made the stories.” she corrected and gave skimble a smile. she knew it was growltiger. “he’s missing an eye, one of his ears are gone. it’s growltiger! i know it is.” she insisted and her eyes were on skimble. they were bright and still full of love from the older pirate. he was romantic . . she thought he was s o romantic - charmed to simply speak to him. she thought about how he kissed her hand, and he called her beautiful! she could only imagine it in her head now. “and he’s romantic.” she added on and her face was leaning in on her paws. her eyes closed to imagine it all again. love! she’d never gone through it. she always assumed she missed her chance but . . she hadn’t! she knew she hadn’t. especially with how growltiger was sweet on her. it was different for her now. she could finally have . . a life. be together for the rest of time. she was obviously getting too far ahead herself but . . no one could stop her from dreaming.
If Skimbleshanks had been drinking tea, he would have spat it out. Instead, he settled for resting a paw to his forehead and running the tips of fingers up it as he felt an oncoming headache. On second though, he could go for that tea. He needed something to wet his whistle. He shook his head slowly, “Part of me wants to tell ya it can’t be him, but ya came back from the Heaviside yaself. Though, I doubt he ever even saw the Heaviside…” Skimbleshanks had never found the tale of Growltiger a pleasing one. It was hard to know a man and if love really changed him through verses and song. The yellow tabby tucked his book under his arm, “Let’s head into my den. We’ll have some tea and talk more on. How about that?”
“well, if you stopped me, why would i listen?” she chuckled cheekily and smiled at skimble and wrapped her arm around his free one. “if i am to be in love i can’t listen to reason. i listen to my heart! thank you.” she giggled and lead him over to his den, looking over at him as they walked. “what’s the point of finding happiness if i’m stopped?” she also brought up. she was starting to find her smile again, she was cleaned up and felt better. she was no longer messy or limping as much and her scar had been properly cleaned finally, it all felt clearer from now on. and she found a tom that made her heart warm absolutely so much — even if it had been growltiger, as he claimed. she believed him, there was no way it could be anyone but him! especially with how he looked. “he was kind to me.” she added on, maybe a small bit of reassurance for her friend.
He patted her arm and sighed, “I’m not goin’ ta stop ya, I just want ta talk.” Still, it was nice to see her smiling and if this Growltiger made her happy… well, first and foremost, he wanted to make sure she was safe. He lead her to a seat in his den and began to make them both tea. For awhile, he stared at the whiskey on his shelf. Despite the fact that he usually didn’t like to drink in moments like these, he had a feeling he would need it. He hummed as he waited for the kettle, “You’ll have to bring this Growltiger to meet us… You know that Victoria is part Siamese, correct?” Part of him wanted to doubt it was the pirate, but that would make the other cat a liar and not suitable for Grizabella at all.
“well, did you ever listen to the song? it says he hates persians but then he’s with griddlebone, a persian! he obviously doesn’t feel that way anymore.” she said, she knew every word to the song, every note. she always loved it, she found it heartbreaking, she loved the tune and the story. “that’s what i remember, don’t you? i know you never quite liked the song, but i know every word!” she said simply and gave skimble a grin. he looked over at skimbleshanks with a stubborn expression. “and, if he hated foreign cats . . i’m abyssinian.” she acknowledged too. she didn’t understand how skimbleshanks couldn’t realize any of this. she guessed he was being protective, she was lucky she remembered. she looked for the best in people, she wanted to see people grow, and she felt as if she saw it every ball with that song. she also . . had always found the pirate story quite . . intriguing!
The kettle whistled and Skimbleshanks poured its contents into two cups, adding a bit of whiskey to his. He put the the bottle next to Grizabella to add as she liked. The queen was not Rumpleteazer– as much as he might like to, he wasn’t about to control how strong she made her drink. A soft sigh escaped her, “That’s not actually in the song you know. The legends say she was Persian… And Gus’ theater loves to embellish.” The yellow tabby had gone as far as to read a written version of the song the legend came from. If this was Growltiger she was seeing, it did make him nervous. Cats of foreign race, indeed. He shook his head, “I’m just worried about ya. Ya’ve been healin’ up really nice, I’d hate to see someone…ruin that. Will ya put this old cat’s mind at ease and let him meet this so-called Growltiger?”
"she was a persian, i asked." grizabella stated. she made sure to be able to get all the answers she was looking for. "embellish, maybe . . but he did tell me she was a persian." she added, looking at skimble as she started to sip at her tea. "of course, he said he wanted to meet my . . well, i called you family." she laughed, it was embarrassing to admit out loud. she didn’t want to tell him that but . . she would, she hoped skimble wouldn’t get upset by the notion. "he . . he doesn’t know me, or my past, or the song i . . i like it that way." she insisted. her past was twists and turns and an embarrassing song that rung in her ears and reminded her of everything. when demeter sung it . . she felt the care coming off of her, she felt warmed . . when everyone joined in . . it felt, demeaning and cold.
