The sun began to rise, casting a warm glow over the landscape. Winter's fingers deftly picked the ripest berries, their deep purple hue standing out against the green foliage. She carefully placed them into her basket, savouring the sense of calm that the simple task brought. As she worked, she hummed a soft tune, the melody mingling with the natural symphony around her.
She moved from bush to bush, occasionally stopping to admire the delicate spiderwebs glistening with morning dew or the way the sunlight filtered through the canopy above. Each berry she picked felt like a small accomplishment, which made her smile in satisfaction.
After gathering a good amount of berries, Winter made her way back to the cottage. She placed the basket on the kitchen table and took a moment to appreciate her hard work.
She filled Matilda's food bowl with leftover turkey, relieved to find it still fresh. After that, she decided to tend to her small garden. Stepping outside the other part of the house, she was greeted by rows of neatly tended vegetable beds, each bursting with life. The early morning sun bathed the garden in a golden glow, making the dew on the leaves sparkle like gems.
Winter walked down the narrow paths between the beds, admiring the abundance of her crops. The tomato plants were heavy with ripe, red fruit, their vines curling around sturdy wooden stakes. She carefully picked the plump tomatoes, placing them gently into a wicker basket. Moving on, she knelt by the carrot patch, brushing aside the leafy tops to reveal the bright orange roots beneath. She pulled them from the soil with a satisfying tug, their earthy aroma filling the air.
Next, she turned her attention to the potatoes. With a small spade, she dug into the rich, dark soil, unearthing a bounty of potatoes. Their smooth, brown skins glistened with moisture as she placed them into the basket alongside the tomatoes and carrots. The garden also had patches of lettuce, beans, and herbs, all thriving under her careful watch.
Winter felt a deep sense of satisfaction as she surveyed her harvest. The garden had flourished under her care, providing a steady supply of fresh produce. She knew that with this bounty, she wouldn't be short of food for a month.
She carried the basket back into the cottage, placing it on the kitchen table next to the berries. The colourful array of fresh vegetables brought a sense of warmth and stability to the room. Winter began to clean and prepare the produce, washing the dirt from the carrots and potatoes and setting the tomatoes aside to use later.
As she washed the dirt from the carrots and potatoes, and carefully arranged the ripe tomatoes in a bowl, her thoughts began to drift to the mysterious man she had met yesterday at the café.
Winter had never experienced having a crush on someone, or romance in general. At eighteen, she was more accustomed to the practicalities of daily life than the fluttering emotions of infatuation. Her days were filled with chores, work at the café, and the occasional fantastical daydream inspired by her mum's stories. But now, she found herself daydreaming about someone real.
The lingering feelings from yesterday were kind of exciting for her. She had felt a strange, electrifying pull towards the man.. Winter replayed their brief conversation over and over, each time feeling a little thrill at the memory.
As she continued with her tasks, she couldn't help but smile to herself. She wondered what they would talk about, or what new things she might uncover about her enigmatic visitor.
Winter's ignorance about romance made these feelings even more intense. She didn't have the experience to understand or analyse her emotions. She simply felt them with the unfiltered purity of youth. It was all so new. She found herself slightly blushing at the thought of seeing the man again.
As she placed all the cleaned vegetables on the counter, Winter's daydreaming was cut off by a scratching sound. She looked towards the noise and saw Matilda standing by one of the windows, attempting to break in. Smiling, she walked over and opened the window, letting the cat in.
"You should probably consider inviting me to one of those private gatherings you have going on," Winter said with a chuckle. Matilda simply mewed in response, as if to indicate that she understood.
Winter knelt down and greeted her cat with a warm hug. "Welcome back," she whispered, stroking Matilda's soft fur. The cat purred contentedly, nuzzling against Winter's cheek.
As she held Matilda, Winter felt a sense of comfort wash over her. The familiar presence of her beloved cat grounded her. She stood up, still holding Matilda, and carried her to the kitchen where she set her gently on the counter.
"You must be hungry," Winter said, reaching for the bowl of leftover turkey. She placed it in front of Matilda, who immediately began to eat with enthusiasm. Winter watched with a smile.
Winter was aware that Matilda ventures outside every night, but she doesn't know where her cat goes during those times. It piqued her interest a little bit, yes, but given that she was always exhausted after her shift, it wasn't something she could look into at the moment.
Her mum claimed that cats have their own world, and that every once in a while, they gather all over the world to form a get-together meeting.
It was more than fascinating. Winter loves fantasy stories, especially those urban legends her mum always tells. Even if Ms. Darbus always says it's completely rubbish and unrealistic, she doesn't care. There's just something so utterly special about those stories that she couldn't fathom what.
She always wonders how Lady Matilda McMuffin and the council of cats resume their evening gatherings. Probably plotting the very end of the human race, she presumes.
"The meeting was held by the King of Cats—Cait Sìth. A well-known celebrity among women back in the old days," recalling her mum's words.
Winter had wondered and questioned the age of the so-called celebrity, only to be scolded by her mum not to go running around the neighbourhood asking people's ages just to satisfy her curiosity.
She added, "It was said that Cait Sìth was a casanova who had wooed every woman in England. It's just a rumour, though, but we'll never know."
Which she ended up saying, how much of a man-whore Cait Sìth was for the lack of decency. But being the smart-mouth she was, was something her mum doesn't want to commend—especially if she uses some derogatory words for the lack of a better term.
"There was also another rumour circling around, saying that he was immortal and that she has been living on this planet for hundreds of years now. He abducted humans to live in his world—once you have been chosen—you can never go back."
Those were the very words her mum said before she tucked her into bed. Not acknowledging any of her side commentaries.
Stories are just stories. Even though there was no way those urban legends could possibly be true, Winter desperately wanted to believe they were—at least, the child in her did.