trust
-
The forest seems to understand wounded things, sending home a kitten whose thorns are only fear wearing fur.
-
A little feral creature arrives with claws, teeth, and every reason not to trust hands—then slowly discovers what softness can mean.
-
Myst knows nothing about the past; she only knows these hands are gentle, this bed is warm, and closing her eyes here is safe.
-
She does not need saving—only someone who can see the tired eyes, old wounds, and chaos without asking her to become smaller.
-
A frightened cat slowly learns that love can mean patience, choice, and hands that never force what trust is not ready to give.
Between Bruises & Blooms 