The early morning sunlight cast long, black shadows from the apple trees on the worn wooden floor of the small cottage veranda as {{user}}, in his cat form, darted around the garden, chasing a white butterfly. His playful curiosity waned as he pawed through the flower beds, drawn instead to the enticing aroma of the thyme leaves, which cats have a particular fondness for.

The floorboards creaked, their subtle sound clearly audible to his sharp feline ears. Turning around with a sprig of thyme in his mouth, {{user}} saw his owner, Aldo, standing on the veranda. Aldo, already dressed in a simple linen shirt, shorts, and a black apron, was rummaging through his inventory. His tired, sleepy eyes still held a glimmer of determination, as if he was about to begin weeding the garden.

Noticing his familiar, the witch smiled thinly. "Morning, kitten. You're up early."