Befriending the river

They say witches are supposed to have black cats as familiars, but I guess my owner didn't know about that. Or maybe she broke the rules on purpose when she got me — she's never been the one for sticking to traditions, after all. Either way, she unfortunately loves my white fur so much that she throws me into a bath whenever I get it dirty. And today was going to be one of those days. I was merely chasing a crow — not out of malice, mind you, but because the pesky bird stole my snack. No self-respecting carnivore would let an avian get away with such an outrageous crime, and somebody had to remind that crow of his place in the food chain. However, it just so happens that birds have a rather annoying and, frankly, a ridiculously unfair advantage — they can fly. And that particular black-feathered creature made use of its wings in the most infuriatingly artful way, not only managing to escape me with insulting ease, but also leaving me so disoriented that I ended up falling into a dirty puddle.

I could, of course, just go home and let my human companion take care of cleaning my fur as she always did. But as a responsible familiar, I wouldn't want to burden her with such a mundane task so often. So I decided that it would be better to just take care of it myself this time — and if my tongue wasn't a sufficient cleaning device, then I'd find another way. It had nothing to do whatsoever with my unwillingness to take a long bath again, I told myself. I was just trying to be a smart and independent pet, that was all.

"If my superb cat memory is working as well as always, then there must be a river somewhere... Here, I believe." I thought as I made my way down a faded grassy path. And sure enough, my sensitive ears picked up on the sound of flowing water long before the stream came into view. A stream — that's what my witch familiar would call it. However, to someone my size, the river was absolutely huge. Gigantic. Deep and wide and fast. I stuck my paw in it, but the water was so cold that I retreated immediately, hissing at it. Then again, what wouldn't a cat do for his human... Slowly and carefully, I approached the perilous watercourse once more, this time managing to get both of my front paws into it. The water splashed in my face, making me wince and close my eyes. When I gathered enough courage to open them again, I saw something so unbelievable that I thought I was hallucinating from the water-induced stress.

In front of me, there was a cat that looked exactly like me — except that he was made entirely of water. He was looking at me curiously, studying me as if I were the weirder creature between the two of us. Now, I'd seen many a strange thing during my life with my human — that comes with being a witch's familiar, of course — but I knew that not even she was capable of conjuring my exact copy out of nothing but water. I meowed, not trying to communicate anything in particular, but merely voicing my surprise. The water cat moved his mouth as if he was trying to meow back, but no sound came out.

Instead, a different noise pierced my ears — an excited squeak coming from... Under the water? Before I'd start questioning my sanity again, a human head popped out of the river, and a big fish tail made a loud splash. A mermaid. I knew who she was right away — my witch told me all about her, but never brought me to meet her, respecting my rather categorical dislike of cold, flowing water.

"Snowy? What are you doing here?"

I was rather surprised when the mermaid addressed me by name. I guessed that my human told her about me, too. Of course she did, why wouldn't she? I'd been the best thing in her life ever since she had met me.

I meowed in response, but naturally, the mermaid couldn't understand me the way my witch did. She looked at the water cat and sighed.

"It's not the same. I tried creating an imitation from Melissa's description of you, but... Seeing you in person is much better!"

She splashed the water with her tail again — and the aquatic cat lost his shape, becoming one with the river once more.

"You know, I've never seen a real cat up close before. You guys seem to avoid water, and it's not like I can go on land, so..."

The mermaid swam closer to me and hesitantly stretched out her wet hand. Normally, I would recoil from anything that was wet — but I felt a pang of sympathy for this poor girl who had never felt a cat's fur under her fingers. According to my companion, it was a feeling like no other, and I'd never had a reason to doubt that. The mermaid gasped in excitement when I nuzzled into her hand — it didn't feel as bad as I'd expected — and somehow, the fish-girl knew exactly how to scratch behind my ears in just the right way, almost as if she'd imagined doing that before.

The sun was already starting to set when we both heard Melissa's voice calling my name from afar. After hours of playing with my new friend in the water, I was sure that my fur was properly cleaned, but even so, I didn't want to be found by my human just yet. The mermaid laughed when I mischievously hid in her voluminous hair, taking the chance to lick her neck and tickle her with my whiskers while I was at it.

"Lily? What are you laughing at? Have you seen Snowy? Probably not, he'd never get so close to the river..."

"But he did!" The mermaid exclaimed with a happy smile, and I finally jumped back to the shore, shaking off the water, making sure to splash some on my favorite witch.

"Snowy?!" She picked me up and stared at me in disbelief. "I thought you didn't like the river?"

"I don't," I meowed back. "But the one who lives in it likes me, which makes me like her, too. And that's more important."

My human smiled proudly at me, as if that was the wisest thing she'd ever heard me say.

"Then I guess we can skip the bath today. You must be hungry after such an adventure. Let's go home for now, I've prepared your favorite fish."

As we walked off, I looked back at the mermaid, who was waving her hand energetically.

"Come back soon!" She called out.

"I will," I meowed, and this time, I knew she understood me.