Role

Chapter 3

She grew older. Her scent became different when She had Her first two-leg heat
cycle. She became more tempestuous like the street strays that lack manners
and snap for no reason. Around that same time, Babark also smelled different.
Like decay. I have a good snout for decay, being a cooshee. It's everywhere.
Leaves, rabbit carcass, soil. I think I knew before Babark and Baboof knew.
Babark grew weak, thin, frail. Baboof cut Babark's long golden hair as she
could no longer groom herself. My Mistress cut Her hair to be closer to
Babark, to show strength and support. I think She could smell the decay too.

They would spend long hours in the food part of Inside, barking at each other.
Soft barks. More like boofs. They talked about fields of blue flowers where
Babark would go, where all the stick-two-legs go once their bodies stopped
moving. Then one day it finally did.

My Lady took it hard, but Baboof took it dark. Two days later, the other
two-legs found him slumped against a tree, decaying and returning to the
soil. I guess he couldn't stand the idea of waiting centuries to return
to Babark. I've said it before: two-legs have cat-like stupidity sometimes.

My Mistress grew reclusive and sad, but always sought my comfort. She would
whisper things to me: secrets, hopes, fears. She would wet my fur with Her
tears until Her eyes grew dry, and then start again. I snuffled at Her ears
and licked Her salty cheeks, but mostly I just stayed by Her side to be what-
ever She needed. She was my world.