(That's cool. It's my bedtime.)

With everything important taken out of her bag, Rhys spared a glance over to the man. He was laying on the grass, bathing in the sunlight, until that strange blue cat appeared once more. She tried not to gawk, but she had to open up her journal and flip through the pages, comparing the drawing she had with the creature that was sitting in the man’s lap. From her view, it most certainly looked like the same type of creature, but he couldn’t tell if it was this one exactly. 

She still remembered some of the vision it came with, too. There was a building on fire, but most of the building was non-descript. In her visions, the building was gray, and the flames were bright orange. She remembered staring up at the bright flames, thinking that the sun itself couldn’t be brighter, and then this patch of blue leapt out of one of the windows. She had been so stunned by the blue in the vision that she hadn’t even drawn the building in her journal after waking. She had only drawn the creature, wishing that she had colors with which to draw, rather than stubs and half-used pencils that she had gotten from shops.

Now she could barely remember the building, which was a testament to how poor her memory was, or how frequent her visions plagued her dreams. She had dated the vision, and it was over a year before. It was certainly possible that this vision had already come to fruition, and what would she do if it hadn’t—warn the creature that it might just leap out of a burning building sometime in the future? There was no way, it was foolish of her to even think about it. 

Flipping through the other pages, she almost didn’t notice the creature saunter over towards her, watching her with its big eyes. She closed her book slowly, and put it back on the ground, only meeting the creature’s gaze for a few moments. She heard the man talking to it, but she didn’t know if it could really understand her, or if the man was simply insane. “Why were they after you?” Rhys asked, speaking up in a way that seemed abrupt, and broke the silence of their sanctuary. She saw the other wounds on his chest, reminding her of a bodyguard or pirate of some sort, but she didn’t like to make that many assumptions. 

With her book set aside, Rhys slowly began to take her hair out of the braid it had been in, and pulled it back into an easier ponytail. It was still wet, and it didn’t feel that gross, but she really just wanted the hair out of the way. It also gave her something to do with her hands, since she wasn’t sewing or drawing, which were her two most common hobbies.