Everyone's a Catgirl! Ch. 341: Save the Cat (Patreon)

A delicious scent woke Keke from her slumber. Her vision was blurry, and she batted her eyes to clear it. The world’s sharp edges returned. As she lolled her head to the side, she caught the familiar sight of Bella cradling a ceramic bowl. 

Bella’s eye caught Keke’s. She placed the bowl on the bedside table and sat on the bed’s rim. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a heel,” Keke answered honestly. These last two days had been some of her worst. Reflecting on the conversations she’d shared with Sylva and Astrid had humbled her. Frustration filled every vein of her body, but a new feeling accompanied it now: shame. A few seconds passed, and Keke at last gave Bella an answer she could digest. “I’m in pain, but I feel much better than yesterday.”

Bella smiled. “Good. Sylva and Astrid will be pleased to hear that. I’m going to redress your bandages.”

The air was suddenly robbed from her chest. She had to have prayed to Saoirse at least three times an hour, begging her not to let the wounds bear any permanent marks. Every time she prayed, all she could think of was how Matt would view her. Would he judge her for her poor decisions? Share his distaste for her scars? Would they mar her beauty?

What would Elona think?

One by one, the bandages were removed, unrolled by Bella’s dexterous hands. A thin, red goo had formed around the bandages, the consistency similar to that of mucus. Her skin stung with the fresh air, and once the bandages were off, Bella retreated to a corner of the room to dispose of them. While Bella rummaged through a wicker basket, Keke slowly looked down at her skin.

She paled. Three thin red scabs streaked her skin, starting from her right shoulder and ending around the left side of her waist, close to her hip. They weren’t clean scabs, either. There were bumps on top, with red-brown ridges lining the edges. The carved skin resembled torn clothing; shredded and torn haphazardly. She wondered if she’d been lied to regarding the nature of her potential scars.

“Now, hold still,” Bella said as she returned to her spot on the bed. She placed several rolls of bandages close to Keke’s feet, then popped the lid on a jar with a foul-smelling substance inside. Using two of her fingers, Bella scooped a thick wad of the stuff and gently applied it to Keke’s wounds. It stung for a few moments, but after the first coat, she could barely feel it. It stuck to her like glue and had a gray color.

“What is that?” Keke asked.

“This is whisper’s kiss. It’s a salve that’s been passed down for generations,” Bella said without ever taking her eyes off of Keke’s chest. Her gentle hands and her attention to detail were impeccable. This was a woman who took pride in her work. “Matron Wren’s great-grandmother perfected the recipe, and we have been using it ever since.”

Cannoli would love that. “It feels great.” Too bad it didn’t feel good enough to dispel her worries.

“I’ve been using it for years.” Bella turned to the rest of her supplies on the bed once she was done with the salve. She used a rag to wipe off the remainder, then placed the lid back on the jar before grabbing the first roll of bandages. Bella was just as slow and methodical in wrapping Keke’s wounds as she had been with the whisper’s kiss. “Are you able to lift your arms a little bit?”

Keke raised her arms hesitantly, stopping when her biceps were level with her shoulders. Bella offered her thanks and wrapped the second, third, and fourth rolls of bandages around her waist and a portion of her shoulder. Then she placed her hands above Keke’s forearms and guided them down slowly.

“There,” Bella said, smiling. “Are you hungry?” Keke nodded, glancing at the bowl, and Bella retrieved it, placing it in Keke’s lap.

Keke stirred the soup with the spoon. Thick chunks of meat and vegetables floated on the surface, stirring her emotions. She was brought back to her time as a kitten, when Elona would make soup after she’d gotten sick. Cannoli would insist she pray and sing to her, encouraging her to heal faster.

Are you disappointed in me, Mom? Despite how hungry she was, she couldn’t muster the strength to swallow more than a few spoonfuls. Guilt prodded at the back of her mind as she weighed whether eating the food or wasting it would cause greater offense. She settled on the latter and forced herself to spoon two more helpings into her mouth before calling it quits.

“No appetite?” Bella asked, eyeing the bowl in Keke’s lap.

Keke bowed her head. “No. I feel…sick.”

“That’s to be expected,” Bella said, sadness speckling her tone.

“When can I walk again?”

“As soon as you feel ready,” Bella said after a pause. “I would like to speak with Sylva first, but the decision ultimately rests with you.”

“Are there any risks?” Keke tried to keep healing at the forefront of her concerns. It was all she could do to distract herself. “I don’t want to reopen the wounds.”

“So long as you’re slow and don’t force anything, you should be fine. Most of the damage to the muscles has already healed. They’ll feel tight and sore for the next few days, but you should be back to normal by the end of the week.”

The week? I have to wait an entire week before I can return to hunting? She clenched her jaw, and the negative thoughts started swimming back in. All because I got impatient. 

“I see,” Keke said barely above a whisper.

“Let me speak to Sylva and see what she thinks.”

Keke nodded, and Bella left the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, Keke’s shoulders slumped. Pain flared in her shoulder. Air hissed through her teeth as she drew breath. Her bottom lip trembled, and a tear fell from her left eye. She quickly wiped it away, steadied her breathing, then carefully leaned back, settling her shoulder back into the groove it’d created in the mattress.

Minutes later, a knock came at the door. The hinges squeaked as Sylva pushed it open. “Can I come in?” she asked.

“Yes,” Keke said.

Sylva stepped into the room slowly. Rain pattered in the forest behind her, tingling Keke’s sense of adventure. Her fingers itched to feel the taut string of a bow, the gentle sprinkle of rain on her ears as her arrows whistled through the air.

And if you had just ignored the furlocke, you would still be out there, she thought.

Sylva shut the door behind her and stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed. “How are you feeling?”

A hint of combativeness broiled in Keke’s chest. Some childish part of her wanted to say, “Didn’t Bella already tell you?” but she kept that locked away inside. “Better than before,” Keke said instead.

“I see.” She bowed her head slightly, her brow furrowed. The hearth crackled behind her. “Bella tells me that she does not think you are at risk. As long as you don’t make any sudden movements, you have been afforded permission to roam Khasstead.” Then she raised her head, digging holes into Keke with those piercing eyes. “But under no circumstances are you to leave the village. Is that understood?”

The way she spoke down to her clawed away at Keke’s pride. Reluctantly, she nodded. “Yes. I will do as you say.”

Sylva drew a deep breath, as if she were trying to temper her anger. “Good. Astrid also informed me that she spoke with you. She said that you were receptive to her feedback and that you will be shadowing her. This is good. She is one of our finest [Sniper]s and our leading expert in Encroacher physiology.”

Her gaze met something in a corner of the room. Keke glanced to her side, where Sylva was looking, and saw the bowl of unfinished food. Sylva clicked her tongue.

“Until then,” Sylva said, “I want you to concentrate on healing and regaining your [Energy]. You will need it for the tasks ahead.”

“I’ll do that,” Keke said. Her toes curled at the idea of asking anything more of Sylva, but a question had been nagging her ever since she first woke up in this cabin. “My bow was destroyed during my last excursion,” she said slowly. “Who can I see about replacing it?” The words felt like acid on her tongue.

Replacing the bow my mom left for me. I’m a terrible daughter.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Sylva’s mouth. “You can commission it or make it yourself. Have you ever constructed a bow?” Keke shook her head sullenly. “Astrid can help you with that. It’s an intimate experience, and every [Hunter] should try making a bow at least once in their lives.”

“I’ll bring it up to Astrid when I speak to her next.”

“Very good.” Sylva opened the door to leave, then stopped when she was halfway out the door. “And Keke? Finish your food.”

With that, Sylva shut the door on her exit.

Left alone with her thoughts, Keke slowly retrieved the bowl and methodically carried the food to her mouth.