An old cat bed, with a few strands of white fur still clinging to it. When you were little, you often saw Aun…
An old cat bed, with a few strands of white fur still clinging to it.
When you were little, you often saw Aunt Han holding a white cat. This was its bed. Strangely, it's roughly made, as if someone wove it by hand, nothing like Aunt Han's usual refined belongings.
As the young master, you once brought Snowball several newer, prettier beds, but it always went back to this old one. Only after it grew too large to curl up inside did Aunt Han replace it.
You asked what happened to the old bed, and Aunt Han only said she'd thrown it away. Yet here it is again, dug out by your cat.
It was never discarded, nor was it lost in that fire.