"I like this feeling, meow. That feeling of being exiled by the world, of despair mingling with every breath. What about you, Little Glutton?"
"If possible, please go back to calling me Sleepyhead."
"Hmm." Puer turned to look at Philomina's face. "Is it because Sleepyhead sounds a little nicer than Little Glutton?"
"I don't know."
"But Sleepyhead is my Little Kangna's nickname now."
"I remember she seemed to be called Snow White."
"Oh, you actually care about that. You never would have before. So, have you started paying attention to your image?"
"What?"
"Most animals and plants display certain unusual behaviors during courtship or heat. As for you, aside from Kallen's gaze, you never really cared about anyone else's before, including all those nicknames I gave you."
"Fine, whatever makes you happy."
"Is there someone you care about now? Have you started worrying about your image?"
Impatience showed on Philomina's face.
"Ohoho, you're getting emotional, meow."
Philomina said nothing and kept walking.
"All right, I'll stop teasing you. I just wanted to say, if one day you feel the need, when you're getting ready to do something, or to be done..."
"Hmm?"
"You can come to me for advice. I can offer the most comprehensive and professional guidance. I've read a whole bookshelf of romance novels. I'm a veteran, meow."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. It's only right, Little Glutton-oh, no, Sleepyhead."
Puer sat on Philomina's shoulder. The woman and cat chatted intermittently like this, with endless yellow sand beneath their feet, filled with monotony and tedium.
As they walked, Puer said, "It's time for afternoon tea."
Philomina stopped and asked, "Can we have it when we get back?"
"No. This is about a sense of ritual."
"But this doesn't seem like the time for rituals."
"The more unsuitable the time,