(WIP illustration — full color version coming tomorrow!)



Rena woke up the way she always did: not because she wanted to, but because the forest shouted good morning through her window. She sat up half-asleep, yesterday’s loose shirt slipping off one shoulder, her hair an absolute mess.

When she stepped outside, she greeted Clara —her “pet” chicken, who wandered into her yard one day and simply never left.

Rena stretched, cracked her back, and stepped out without the slightest idea of what she would do first. The morning breeze nudged her toward some bushes.

Three steps in, she spotted a cluster of fat, juicy berries and thought,
“Oh, nice.”

A few steps later, she noticed tire marks in the dirt. While following them, she found some sweet-smelling apples and thought,
“Hmm… this goes with something…”

When she reached her natural chicken coop —meaning her whole yard, because her hens lived like queens— she picked up two freshly laid eggs and thought,
“Pancakes!”

As if the idea had just fallen from the sky.
As if it were obvious that berries, apples, and eggs were enough to justify a full breakfast.

That was Rena: logic arrived late, intuition always first.

On her way back home, already tasting the pancakes in her mind, her brain decided to remember something important:

“...Wait. I’m out of maple syrup.”

She stopped dead, staring up at the sky as if it were personally responsible.

The funny thing was that earlier that same morning she had seen the old “abandoned” cabin. Well… not so abandoned anymore. There was a little car parked near the apple trees, and there had been lights last night. And if there’s a car… there’s people. And if there’s people…

“They definitely have syrup!” she said with total confidence.

So she ran back home, grabbed a few things, brushed herself quickly, and set off on her little adventure.

She walked toward the cabin with her basket on her hip, the wind tossing her hair, her steps getting faster — almost bouncing — with excitement.

As she passed by the window, she wasn’t even looking inside. She was far too busy thinking about pancakes, syrup, and how friendly she would be with her new neighbor. But out of the corner of her eye, like a soft violet flash, something caught her attention:

A backside.
A feline backside.
Soft, lifted, perfectly lit by the morning sun.

Rena took two more steps before her brain reacted. Then she frowned.
“Eh? Was that…?”

But she was already at the door, so she decided she had probably imagined it.

She knocked three times with lumberjack firmness: KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Inside, there was a tiny thud — like someone almost dropping something.

Rena grinned. Bingo.
“Hi! I’m Rena, I live close by. Welcome — whoever you are! I grabbed some apples from your yard, didn’t know someone lived here. But I brought a few things from my place, so… we could have breakfast together if you want!”

Inside, there was silence, hurried movement… someone breathing in sharply.

Rena shifted her basket against her leg, patient, cheerful, ready to meet her new neighbor.