Charles
Twenty minutes. That was the duration of how long Charles Wicker was staring at Ruth’s physical body in the form of a white cat. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze spoke all the things which he wanted to ask.
“Your gaze hurts, you know?” Ruth broke the silence, causing Charles to instantly halt from the constant parkour he did by jumping from one rooftop to the other towards the town central.
Charles shot the white cat an awkward glance.
“Uh-” His gaze wavered a bit. “I’m sorry if I stared too much. You reminded me of that time when we first met. You know that time when you tossed a pouch to me.”
The white cat peered up at Charles. Falling silent, as if pondering, she then slowly sat down on the ridge of the house they were currently in.
“Did I look strange to you?” She ask
