The little space cat

The long walk

In the previous chapter, Spacy's whole village disappeared out of nowhere. Now Tigiri has invited Spacy to join her crew. Spacy is now going with her to meet some other people. Hope he does well. . .

Spacy and Tigiri were walking. It was pretty lonely if you asked me; it was just dust and some desert. It was weird—Spacy remembered this whole place with plants, flowers, trees, and animals walking around. Well, it was dry season after all; maybe that had something to do with the less green area, but it was rather depressing and empty like that. Soon, Tigiri spoke, breaking the awkward silence, "Soooo. . . tell me, what did you, y'know, used to do at this time of day?"It was, well, not expected, to say the least, but it was nice that she still hadn’t forgotten about him, since she was incredibly bigger than him. Even so, she was still careful enough not to step on him. He then responded with a short but nice answer, "Well, I’m mostly in my room at this time of day since, well, I don’t have many responsibilities, to say the least." It was, well, not really that short but also not that long—it was perfect in size.She then responded with a short answer, "I see. . ." She was pretty calm and all, but she also didn’t have the best social skills; it was pretty damn obvious. That made him wonder how old she actually was, but it would be rude to ask, wouldn’t it? After all, asking for a woman’s age was considered bad manners. But Spacy couldn’t hold it anymore; he had to ask, "Um- uh I-I have a question and it’s um. . . how old are you exactly? . . ."That was. . . horrible! He had way too much stuttering in that sentence, it was sooo cringe, and not to mention he asked a woman’s age. A woman!!! He was doomed for eternity. "Oh, well, that’s an unexpected question, my lil fella, but I might as well tell you. I’m 27, my little friend." (I’m not using the real lifespan of animals in this story—I know tigers can’t live more than 20 years.)Well, that was unexpected. He had expected something a little older. Even so, it was nice that she wasn’t way much older, since that would’ve just been awkward. "Tell me, my little friend, how old are you?" she asked calmly. It was pretty much expected she would ask that, since when someone asks for your age, you ask for theirs. Pretty basic common sense.He then replied, "Well, I’m 12-14. . . I don’t remember that well. My memory has been going bad the last few days. . ." He was younger but didn’t know exactly how old, as his memory was failing him. This had also happened the other day when he couldn’t remember his name, but she had already expected that answer. "I see. . . is your memory still failing today?" she asked, almost sounding concerned."Ugh, yeah. . . my stupid head won’t let me remember anything. It’s becoming sooo annoying," he said, sounding frustrated since he had this problem since Monday—also yesterday—and it had become rather annoying not being able to remember anything. . . Soon, the silence fell again, and it was just awkward silence—the two of them, the lonely, depressing desert, and the weak wind.

To be continue.  . .