The Life of a Cat

Bonus I: About blocks and a mossy pool - Myrow

Author's Note: this is the flashback (in "about blocks and a mossy pool") seen from Myrow's point of view. The dialogue will be the same, but some perceptions might be different as Myrow is a completely different person/Cat. Also, she might note some stuff that the Cat did not. Thanks for reading <3
The music is the same as in the chapter from Myorow's POV. Franz Liszt's Romance S169.

Myorow asked me to the Sunny Rock. I don't know what is happening to me. A few moons ago, I was still just the Cat that every male fancied, but knew was inaccessible, and now, since Myorow asked me to the Mossy Rock, everyone looks away from me. Because everyone knows that female Cats asked to the Mossy Rock will, sooner or later, be asked to the Sunny Rock, and there they'll be proposed to. Once a Cat is asked to the Mossy Rock, there is no hope left for any potential mates.

He is so handsome. Yes, he might be plain, but his mind is quick and clever, and his paws are light. A brown-grey tabby, usually hiding in the corner. Everyone was surprised when he asked me.
I wasn't.
Since more than 12 moons ago, I saw him everyday, looking at me. And I was looking at him too. I was hoping he could ask me. No female ever asked a male, except Old Myr. But she is exceptional, and that's why she became Leader. I am not, and that's why I am not Leader.

Finally, he asked me. I was so happy! Firstly, he was very shy, but gradually warmed up to me.
Then he asked me to the Sunny Rock.

My mind drew a blank. I thought I was dreaming, and tried to wake up from my sweet slumber. But I would not wake up, I tried everything. Finally, I realized that it was true, but I still could not believe that exactly the one Cat that I love and cherish would ask me.

Myorow arrived at the Rock, where I was waiting. We touch noses as a greeting. We sit next to each other, and he curls his tail around me, and whispers.
"I promise to always protect you, my love."

"Are...are you serious? Promises are import..."
He cuts me off. "Myrow, don't speak as such. I...I love you."

I don't know what to say, so I shut my jaws and don't say anything. I think he knows what I mean. If he doesn't, I might be in trouble.
I look into his eyes. They are brown, and usually they are plain, but looking at them so closely creates reflections of my own eyes, green and mossy.

He looks away.
"Myrow?"
"Yes?"

"Myrow...will you be my mate?"

Did he ask that? Did I just turn crazy? How...why did he ask?
I decide to let everything I've ever wanted to say to him out.

"Yes...yes, I will."

The Sun shines on the Rock, as it always does when someone proposes and his love accepts.
We touch noses, and he leaves - to his home, I would assume. It is tradition that after a proposal, one must part with his love, for at least three Suns. Who invented this tradition, who could stand to part with his soon-to-be mate?

Not me, for sure.