A Name Like the Wind Pet solo

Time: 16:00 ~ Date: 05/23/26 ~ Outfit: ✖ ~ CC: #483D8B

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
It was her nose that got the initial sensory input from the place.
Not unpleasant, exactly. Not unpleasant at all, really, but instantaneous nonetheless. Hay and feathers and the faint sulfuric aroma of breath that created fogging around the leftmost window of the tank. Delilah went into Magical Menagerie, opened the door and let it close behind her, making the small brass bell above her head ring only once. The door shut with a thud after her entry.
The whole shop engulfed her with its contents.
From floor to ceiling cages lined up on all four walls; some of them glowed with soft light while others made quiet rustling sounds as their inhabitants seemed to disagree with being observed. A toad, copper in color, met her gaze from a terrarium close to the entrance with each inhalation making its throat rise in a slow motion rhythm. To the left and above an owl hooted like issuing a pointed editorial. And in the middle of the shop a labyrinth of cages lay in wait for her cautious exploration with arms pinned to her body due to prior reading of the cheerful placard near the entrance reading: Enchantments make sure most customers aren't bitten. Working on the rest.
She was not in a hurry.
Or at least she tried to convince herself of that.
First destination was to go to the cage where puffskeins were kept because it was inevitable to ignore the place. Puffskeins were fluffy creatures with an appearance of contentment as a roiling mass of soft, pastel fur balls that made faint humming noises. One puffed forward to greet her, pressing his nose to the bars of the cage with all the determination of a non-skeletal creature. Deli held a finger for it to sniff. She ended up staying too long.
“They're very soothing,” said a woman in a pleasant tone—the owner of the shop who emerged from behind a tower of feed sacks with glasses resting at the tip of her nose. “Very popular. And very low maintenance. He won't judge you.”
"I'm not looking for something that won't judge me," Delilah said and was surprised by the answer coming from her mouth.
The woman smiled. "A cat, then."

They were in the back-left corner, behind a bead curtain. The feline part of Magical Menagerie had a distinct mood. Quieter than any other parts, more thoughtful perhaps. These cats didn't ask for attention with their voices; they decided themselves whether you earned theirs.
Up above kneazles were staring with their steady and judging gazes; behind them were ordinary cats in various stages of resting.
And Deli began her journey.
With the sense of uncertainty in mind. As if she could recognize the word when it comes at last, as if she knew that this was the one she'd been searching for while forming a sentence.
She almost missed him.
This red tabby was placed in the middle cage and sat sideways as usual to cats, refusing to recognize the situation in question. A rich auburn color, he seemed even more reddish in the enchanting light, a classical tabby with swirling, whorled stripes resembling wood grain or topographic maps. His fur was short and sleek.
And he wasn't performing.
That was unusual for the cats of this area. All other cats here did. Some slept, some pretended to be indifferent while other looked knowingly with their calculating gazes, as if they wanted you to feel picked. But this one didn't do anything else than to sit inside his cage.
So Deli went down to eye level with him.
Finally he looked at her.
With a piercing gaze, a deep amber color and with no signs of blinking.
Until he did. Just once, slowly, and turned away as if he had finished the assessment.
Then she felt that something changed.
"He's perfect," Delilah stated.
As if waiting for her words the shop owner immediately appeared at her side. "Red tabby classic. A domestic shorthair. He arrived here three weeks ago." There was a brief silence. "He's been somewhat selective."
"Selective?"
"Not interested in four families who considered him."
Deli looked at him once again. Now he was facing to the middle distance of his cage with his tail arranged neatly over his front legs. He did not turn his head. She had nothing to worry about.
"What's his name?"
"Whatever you choose. He hasn't answered to anything we've tried"
She took him home in the borrowed carrier as hers had not yet arrived from her prior order and during the trip he did not produce any sound. This made her very impressed. People in Diagon Alley were parting around her as she walked towards her home with the air of knowing the exact destination.

"...Zephyr"—eyes appeared through the gates of the carrier and stared at her. "Is that your name?" He blinked. Yes, it seemed. "Zephyr, then."
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

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