Finding Home

Hm?

Home?

Miami didn’t have a home. Or more the crook didn’t fully have the concept down. Most didn't. He had dens, places he liked to stay in, felt safe in but they weren’t homes. At least how Prisma described a home being like..

But the closest concept of one? His dens, his.. wards. The things he could See and feel safe around and desired to protect.

He left behind one for another. He left Fever, his temporary den in an apartment, for Prisma. His ward. Protecting the small cccat, keeping her safe, and through her, here now he found a new ‘home’. The car, where Prisma and the others traveled in. The car belonged to one of them, the name couldn’t come to him though. A blind spot in his mind. Prisma would tell him again later, whose car it was as it wasn’t hers, he knew that much.

But the car was his new den. His new safe place. Sprawled out and left to his own devices when the others would leave, sleeping inside its safety. Picking food off the floor and taking the half eaten bags and finishing them off. Pushing the seats all the way back and flat so he could lay down or curl up and sleep.

Sometimes Prisma didn’t leave and stayed with him. Mostly when it was too hot out, or she was overwhelmed. Laying with him and watching a video together, even if Miami was unable to focus on it. Rambling to him, bringing him snacks and things to eat.

Most days though, were made up of travel. And that was ok. Miami staying in the back or in the very front. Staring out the window as the scenery and the different locations they traveled passed by. The idle conversation from all the cccats, mostly intently listening to Prisma’s ramblings...

Feeling.

Safe.

Feeling comfortable.

No endless forests.

Just. A home.