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At first, she feels nothing.
I'm a human now, he notes numbly. They're not able to think much of anything else. She's aware she felt immense pain during the transformation, a fire burning through her body, cracking and rearranging her bones into a body of something she does not want nor is supposed to be.
A shiver creeps down his spine from the chill and he does not have the energy to mourn the fur that kept him warm before. The wizard is saying something, what it is they do not know, and they soon find they can not focus on his eyes which roam their body, gazing at them and their now human features. A feeling she would later recognize as shame curling up in her stomach, wanting to be anywhere else, a place where the wizard would not look at her so as if examining his test subject, even though she knows that is exactly what is happening.
He feels like someone has dug their claws inside his heart and squeezed, took it out, and is toying with it, running a blade through it over and over. The horrible feeling unfortunately does not cease when Bogart looks away and starts writing, only gets even more unbearable. They find themself unable to move, like a mouse trapped between uncertainties, only able to wait.
She looks down, searches for a distraction. What greets her is the magic circle the wizard used, and all around her, a liquid of an unknown color. Ah. Though it is their first time seeing a liquid of such color with their human eyes, they can easily recognize it for what it is.
He hesitantly examines his body, finding fresh blood almost all over him, though he does not have any open wounds. It feels like water, though somehow even more uncomfortable, trailing down their body and landing near their paws feet. Their gut churns, this time they shiver because of the blood marking them, and not the cold.
The feeling of liquid on furless, naked skin is something he would not like to focus on, but if he doesn't focus on that then he will focus on the blood itself and the last time he saw it was on his knight's body and he'd rather not focus on that memory. Instead, she lets everything wash over her, numbness temporarily taking over.
Eventually, the Wizard comes over and starts leading them to a room. They follow clumsily, leaning on him for support as they have not yet learned to walk. The terrible feeling only grows at that. Bloodstains echo her footsteps, as if whispering see? you're not who you are anymore, and you never will be.
It is a hauntingly bright and far too overwhelming color. He distantly notes that he shall never look at that cursed color, which he later learns is called 'red', without feeling sick.
The room Bogart leads them to has a bath inside, filled with.. water. He tells them something, puts down what they assume a change of clothes and a cloth, then leaves and locks the room.
She swallows, new emotions entangling in her mind and not allowing her a moment to breathe. They screech and overlap, scratching on the doors to her mind. But she is bloody and locked inside, so she carefully, hatefully, lowers herself in the water.
His instincts hiss at him, kicking and screaming and begging to get out of the water. The water is even colder. He is shaking, yet he does not get up. He knows what he must do, instructions etched into his mind despite not hearing a word of it.
The blood seeps off of their body, infecting the water. It is not meant to be there. This liquid clearly does not know the rules of the water. It is not welcomed here. It cannot be with the water, as it does not belong. Soon, the entire bath is filled with red, though it's abnormality is glaringly obvious.
The mocking shade of the water forbids them of finding any sort of comfort from the familiar blue that should have adorned it.
She sits limply in the bed of crimson, like the one he laid in. She hopes his death was peaceful, that it didn't hurt. She wishes she was back at home, so she could lay beside him, one last time. Maybe then these dreadful thorns would not seize her this wholly and completely, and she would be able to breathe again.
Tears fall into the blood-soaked water. Perhaps they would've been subtle if not for the unnatural color of it, however he does not care, for no one else is in the room, and he has felt enough shame for today.
—
Kitty climbs down from the ladder, curious to see as to what was the noise coming from below. The sight that meets him is fairly innocent at first, it's just Katie. Upon further observation, she's — oh.
"Kitty! Hello! I was just searching for food, sorry if it bothered you," she exclaims nervously. Her right hand seems to have blood seeping out of it, which explains why Katie was having trouble finding food — the chests are hard to open by using only one hand. She has smears of blood on her face, too, as well as her other hand which might have been used to try to stop the bleeding a little.
"You are hurt," is all they say, although they hope that she notices the worry on their face. Words have never been their skill, previously only having to resort to the most basic form of communication. Katie tenses up, as if Kitty wouldn't notice a bleeding wound. Silly humans.
"Yes, it is so. Don't worry, it is just a scratch. I'll heal up in a bit," she says with a smile, probably aiming to be reassuring. He appreciates the effort, though it is most certainly not going to work.
Kitty swiftly walks over and hands her some fish paw cooked earlier and frowns.
"But you have wound. Wound and blood need water," cat advises, - something cat has painstakingly learned on separate occasions after having a significantly higher chance of being injured as a newly turned human.
Katie nods, then pauses, and nods again, eyes softening. She looks a bit silly, blood smears almost covering her freckles in some spots. "That is true! Ahem, though I fear it is too dangerous to go back outside — it is dark."
Xe responds, "It is true, it is, i know many thing," then, - shaking xir head; "Do not fear, I will go bring water for you." as always, the others need xir help. It is okay, however, because Kitty likes helping. Even big cats sometimes need help. Katie shifts her bloody hand uncomfortably, her other holding the fish, before sitting down on the bed.
She tilts her head, "You are certainly brave, Kitty, thank you," she replies, shoulders untensing. Kitty feels his face heat up and quickly ushers her to eat the fish and heads out, bucket in hand. By the time paw arrives, there is no trace of the fish paw gave Katie, and she has resorted to applying pressure to the wound with a cloth. She looks up at the sound of Kitty putting the bucket down - likely not hearing her footsteps - and removes the cloth.
From what sun can see, the bleeding has thankfully stopped. "I am back," sun announces, perhaps a little late, but Katie's smile widens nonetheless, "Good. I hope the mobs didn't get you too?" she quips, and Kitty stands a little triumphantly.
"No, I am too fast," sun huffs proudly. She laughs at that - which is weird because what Kitty said was true - but lets it be because of the fondness in her voice and because sun always likes hearing her laugh.
She goes up to her part of the house and comes back down with another clean cloth, "Do you want me to clean your wound?" she asks, softly. Perhaps Kitty does so because she has experienced how it feels like to suffer alone, and does not want her roommate to undergo it either. That, and because she does care about her. Katie blinks, and appears to search for something in her eyes - she does not know what - before agreeing, seemingly satisfied.
Kitty sits beside her, shifting in a position which is more comfortable. They dip the cloth into the bucket, slowly raising it and stretching it. They hold out their left hand towards Katie, who tentatively places hers in theirs. With their right hand, they gently clean the puncture wound of what they assume is an arrow with the cloth.
Whisker knows that Katie does not like being seen injured, vulnerable — sees it in the way she tenses up when paw starts, yet relaxes after a bit, purr doing her best at performing a task fang wouldn't have ever had to do as a cat. Anything to keep Katie safe. The fact that she feels comfortable enough to let Kitty do this makes them feel warm.
They repeat the process a couple of times before Kitty is sure it is fine, then they look up at Katie, still holding her hand.
"Are you okay?"
Katie averts her eyes, looks away. "Yes, thank you," she murmurs, before looking back at him. Pretty brown eyes. She keeps staring, slight confusion and something else swirling around in her gaze. Kitty does not relent. Finally, fondness takes over her features again and she closes her eyes. Kitty hums, counting this as a win, before letting go and taking hold of her other hand, considerate. He looks at her blood smeared hand, then back at her face. Hm. The ruby colored blood almost fits in with her hair.
Never mind that, xe starts cleaning the blood off the non-injured hand. It takes a bit, but eventually all of it comes off, and Katie's eyes are open again, watching Kitty's movements. Xe slowly traces the palm of her hand, unlike any sort of paws. Katie's hand is rough, perhaps injuries such as the arrow wound are to blame for that. He doesn't really mind.
Katie watches curiously as xe holds her palm up a little higher, tracing her fingernails now. Then sighs. At this, xir companion raises an eyebrow.
"You don't have claws."
Katie's mouth quirks up, amusement settling in. "You don't have any, either," she, unfortunately, reminds Kitty of this very tragic fact. Xe frowns again.
"I know, It's unfair. Humans should have claws. If they did, you would be able to climb like me," he says, passionately. Truly, there is no reason why humans should be denied the gift that are claws.
Katie huffs a laugh, making a noise of agreement, "Even if I did, i doubt i could catch up to you when it comes to climbing."
Kitty pauses. "Hm. Yes, very good point. But it would be fun."
Then; "You still have some blood on your face, mind if..?" she mutters. Katie's eyes go wide for a moment, "I- have i seriously had that the whole time?". Kitty feels themself grin at her surprised face and the blush accompanying her blood-stained freckles. He makes a noise of affirmation as he lets go of Katie's hand — who is mumbling something about how ridiculous she must've looked — and picks up the cloth again, reaching towards her face after he dips it into the water. Katie promptly stops her mumblings to trace his actions with her eyes.
The close proximity makes something warm in Kitty's chest, Katie's breaths echoing over his face as he delicately cleans the blood off. At some point, he feels Katie slump in his grasp, the cold sensation perhaps being pleasant for her. In Kitty's humble opinion, anything related to water was not at all pleasant. Despite this, he does not remove his hand after there remain no blood traces.
Katie's dark eyes carry an affectionate gaze, full of warmth. And in those eyes they could stare into forever, memorizing every shade and glance, so that they could have a memory of her in their mind, always. Suddenly, Kitty finds herself longing to replace the cloth with the palm of her hand, wants to wrap herself around Katie, to feel her warmth, her embrace.
This feeling engulfs xem wholly and completely, blooming from xir heart, petals choking xir throat and needing to be let out, be put to words.
Katie — who is unable to read the inner happenings of Kitty's mind — blinks, seems to realize something, and slowly leans away. She proceeds to blush furiously, the shade of her face quite matching her better than any sort of blood. Kitty decides she quite likes this sight.
He puts down the cloth once again, watching Katie as she opens her mouth in an attempt to form words, then closes it.
Kitty scans her flushed face as several minutes of silence pass, slightly tilting purr head.
"It is weird, how you humans do that," meow voices purr thoughts.
Katie, confused but still recovering, frowns in question, "Do what?"
Xey gesture towards the other. "your face turns red when you're embarrassed. Like your hair," xey point out. At this, Katie places her hands over her face, perhaps tries to compose herself, then finally responds.
"It— yes, as you may have noticed, the.. blood rushes through our face when humans, uh, feel a significant emotion," she flounders, attempting to sate Kitty's curiosity, as she always does. Kitty appreciates this, feels his mouth form into an amused smile and hums.
"So it is true. I am very observant, after all." Katie shakes her head — perhaps it is one of those times where xe should not have been so blunt — before running a hand through her own hair, murmuring some affirmation.
"You do it too, you know," she glances at xem. Kitty reluctantly nods, hums again. "I did not use to. Cats don't have skin, or feel human emotions," he admits, a tinge of sorrow tainting her tone.
"But shame or embarrassment is not only it. I sometimes feel fishie. It too feels warm, but a pleasant warmth," she adds softly, as Katie grins at the newly acquired term of his.
"Yes, fishie is a very good emotion indeed," she agrees. Kitty nods fervently, however there is one emotion that she finds is better, one she has yet to name, that seems to be persistent on arising whenever she's around Katie.
An emotion, a warmth that entangles Kitty wholly, one that could warm xem even in the greatest of sogs.
As Katie and she head off the bed, purr finds meowself associating the color red to something new. It is no longer the crimson call of blood that haunts them, but the color of her Kingdom, and one brave Knight. It belongs to flushed cheeks and bright hair, of a day decorated by ruby.
Red, red, red. If not for being turned human, they would not be able to see such a pretty color, would not meet Katie.
He finds this newfound appreciation encircling him, slotting together in his heart with all his other human emotions, and for once, he does not resent it.