D.D. had scrambled up the side and on top of a worn down shed which she and Whimsy had come across in the middle of a golden field. Whimsy unconsciously followed her sister, all the while thinking that she had found something she might be able to go inside of as well as on top of. When D.D. had initially found her way onto the roof of the shed, she'd simply thought she'd found something she'd be able to go over, inside of, around, and possibly under.
The two kittens found themselves looking over the edge at the grassy ground below them. There was a breeze which tickled their ears. Whimsy had the idea that if she were to leap off, she just might float to the ground like a bird feather. But as she stepped closer to the edge, her instincts caused her to hesitate.
This couldn't be said of D.D., however. Whimsy watched, wide-eyed as her sister jumped off the roof and landed in the grass with a quiet thud. D.D. took off running through the field almost as soon as she'd hit the ground. Whimsy stared after her for a few moments, then began wandering atop the shed roof, with her tail twisting about. She made small mewling noises.
Before she became too distressed, Whimsy unconsciously leaped down from the roof nimbly, the same way she had gotten onto it. On the ground beside the shed, she sat and licked her paws. They felt strange from having walked on the old wood.
Soon, Whimsy found herself wandering through the grass, not sure whether she was hoping to find something or not. She was not particularly looking for her sister, even though this was the first time she and D.D. had been separated since they'd been out on their own. They had stayed together all the way until they had reached this field, which to Whimsy, seemed like its own world apart from that outside of it. She was not worried. Perhaps D.D. had moved on, but Whimsy didn't want to. Something about being there made her feel special.
As she stepped daintily through the field, she liked the feel of the tall grass blades brushing against her and the faint sound her paws made as she walked on the dry soil. She felt like she was making her way through a golden sort of sea that was kissed by the sun.
Here and there, grasshoppers would leap as Whimsy disturbed them. Each time, she would pounce after them, ears perked up.
Whimsy caught D.D.'s scent through the field where her sister had gone, and it stayed with her until she reached the edge of the grass. The land that lay before her was open, and vast, with some trees. The ground was uneven. D.D. was nowhere in sight.
Whimsy slowly padded out farther. Every tree she saw looked far in the distance no matter how close it really was. If Whimsy had continued on toward them, the farther away she would have been from the golden sea. She sat down in the dirt and gazed back at the field. The tall grass swayed in the breeze. Whimsy felt as though she'd stepped out of a warm body of water and into the cold air. She looked to the sky, right at the sun, blinking. When she stared up at the sun, she was reminded of her mother, Thyme. The sun seemed to be directing Whimsy back to the field, as if it were her own little part of Earth. Her own world, just like the herb garden she'd grown in had been her mother's world.
Whimsy got back on her feet with a start and bounded back into the grass. From there, she frolicked. She frolicked all through the field just as she had once done in the herb garden. She was dreaming. The grass was moving with the breeze in waves and she leaped along with them. She was flying. The air right above her might as well have been the sky. Dragonflies, grasshoppers and other insects scattered. Whimsy was showing them that she owned the field now.
Evening came, and Whimsy had returned to the broken down shed. This time she was going to make a point to go inside of it. The door was crooked and at the bottom there was an opening perfect for a cat to enter through.
Inside, it was remotely lit by the moonlight. It was hot and stuffy, and smelled of aged wood, but Whimsy felt safe. She curled up next to a large crack in the shed so she'd be able to see out if she needed to. As she drifted off to sleep, she peered out at the field. As night time was creeping in, the grass now appeared to be a pale off-violet color. The breeze had calmed and all was still. Crickets chirped, and Whimsy felt conjured. She had found her home.
As she slept that night, Whimsy dreamed that she was the cat of a sea that danced in the wind. She ruled the sea. She flowed along with the waves, the sun making her fur more and more golden by the minute, touching her. She was radiant.
The morning of the day following, Whimsy awoke to the ambient sun peeking through the crack in the shed. It had formed a warm beam around her. Dust particles floated in the illuminated air inside the shed. Whimsy sniffed the air and took in the refreshing scent of the grass outside on a new day.
Stepping out of the shed into the daylight, Whimsy remembered the dream she'd had. She recalled how splendid she had felt in that dream. And there... there she was with the sea rolled out in front of her. The wind was awakening. The sun beckoned her onward.
Whimsy's tail stood up and she vaulted into the field, ready to soar with the waves.
The insects jumped and glided as they felt the presence of Whimsy; the ruler of the grassy sea.
In certain parts of the field, Whimsy found some minty weeds sprouting from the ground. The smell reminded her of the herbs that had grown in the herb garden. She chewed the leaves and she was given a sensation that made her feel frenzied. She was free. This life belonged to her, and it was all she needed.
Whimsy would come to truly adjust to living there. She would learn how to hunt the small birds that flitted around the field, and keep watch for field mice. The small broken shed became her dwelling. The field was her land, her sea of grass. She played with the grasshoppers and dragonflies and the sun which watched over her was her friend. Whimsy was in her dreamland, where she could dream and dream with all the heart she had.
