Realms

Iris had never been brave enough to give a gift to another girl before, let alone something she had made herself. However, her growing interest in romance movies and fiction had taught the goddess one thing: handmade gifts were incredibly important. But none of the things that the people gave each other in those films and books held much interest to Iris. Flowers were nice, but being a part of a gardening club meant that they were surrounded by them all the time, and chocolate melted, and baked goods… Well, Iris had never been all too good at baking.

However, in one of the films she watched, one person gave another a scarf, and that was a perfect idea.

Hermes had found Iris curled up on her bed, intently watching a tutorial on how to crochet, and the first thing he had done was laugh. Not at the product itself, but at the fact that Iris had seemed incredibly offended when Hermes had suggested that she could just conjure a scarf out of thin air if she honestly wanted to.

“It’s not about the item, Hermes,” Iris was quick to tell him, weaving the wool between her claws with elementary skill. “It’s about the thought that was put into it.”

But of course, Iris’ self-reassurance could only get her so far.

When Iris had finished, the skunk proudly held up her creation, smile faltering as she managed to have a good look at her scarf. It was uneven, with a few large holes glaring back at the goddess, and a few bits of wool stuck out here and there. “It’s hideous…” she had sighed, but in her heart, Iris knew that she didn’t have the patience to try again.

So, Iris went and sought out Hermes herself, holding the scarf up to his face and asking the one question she honestly didn’t want a truthful answer to. “What if Chamomile doesn’t like it?”

There was a smile from the linsang, who reached out and tentatively took a bit of the scarf between his paws. He turned it this way and that, eyes roaming over the object. Hermes smiled, handing it back to Iris.

“If you want my honest answer, Iris,” Hermes began, giving Iris a gentle, reassuring pat. “A wise goddess once told me that it’s not about the item, but the thought that was put into it.”

Iris rolled her eyes, and Hermes grinned.

“So, Iris, I think everything is going to be just fine.”

And so, Iris found herself hurrying to the Middle Realm, her scarf hastily shoved into her bag. Soon she was wandering through the rows of flowers at the Gardening Club, watching the flora that reached up into the sky for a taste of the afternoon sun. The goddess fidgeted, fiddling with the latches on her bag. What if Chamomile rejected the gift? Iris had no idea what she was going to do, and a feeling of dread began to settle in her stomach. Perhaps this had been a bad idea after all.

As Iris went to turn back and make her way home, a familiar face looking in her direction caught the goddess’ eye, and she could feel a deep red flush creeping to her cheeks as they made their way towards her.

“Iris!” they called, a smile creeping onto the skunk’s face as they said her name. She hurried over, coming to a stop in front of her friend.

“Chamomile, hey!” she greeted, her enthusiasm infectious as her eyes skimmed over the cat in front of her. Chamomile was wearing her usual dapper coat, and every time Iris couldn’t stop herself from noting how much the patterning brought out the feline’s deep red eyes. She was quick to dismiss the thought, desperately willing for the blush to leave her cheeks. “I was just looking for you.”

“Oh, were you?” Chamomile’s gaze was questioning, and Iris would feel her heartbeat quickening as the cat watched her. “What can I do for you, dear?’

Iris swallowed, nodding anxiously as she flicked the latches to her bag. “I brought you something,” she explained, avoiding Chamomile’s eyes as she retrieved the scarf. “Well, I made it, but not in the way that we normally make things, like waving our paws around and poof there it is, more like…”

Iris’ voice trailed off as she held the item out to Chamomile, and she could swear that her heart had stopped beating. “I… I hope you like it.”

The goddess held her breath as Chamomile took the scarf into her paws, the menagerie of colours shimmering and reflecting a rainbow onto the cobblestone. “Iris, I…” Chamomile’s sentence was lost, the cat gently running her digits across the fabric. “Iris, it’s incredible.” Chamomile’s voice wavered, her fur puffing up as she proceeded to wrap the scarf around her neck.

“How do I look?” Chamomile asked, and Iris could feel her cheeks burning as she smiled at her friend.

“You look beautiful, Chamomile,” Iris responded. She reached up and grabbed a lock of her hair, twirling it nervously as she added with a giggle, “Holes and all.”

Chamomile’s laughter danced in the air and filled Iris with a warmth that she couldn’t describe. “Well, it’s safe to say that I simply adore this, darling.” Chamomile spoke, and Iris thought she saw a blush creeping up from underneath the cat’s fur. “Thank-you so much! I… Well, I think I’m going to be wearing this for the next little while.”

They both fell silent, Iris looking away and focusing her attention on the plants, and Chamomile intently running her paws along the length of the scarf.

“Iris?”

The skunk looked up from the flowers, a nervous laugh following without thought. “Yes?”

The two women looked at each other, Iris smiling nervously, and Chamomile fidgeting with the end of her new favourite scarf.

“Do you want to come inside for a cup of tea?” Chamomile asked. “I know it’s lovely to stay out here in the sunshine, but this scarf is terribly warm.”

There was a soft giggle in response, before Iris slowly nodded.

“I would love that, Chamomile. Lead the way.”

Perhaps this had been a perfect idea, after all.