Mouse, Sabre, Mama, Priss & Soliel
Mouse looked around as she materialised between Sabre and Priss on a rickety jetty, the smell of swampland hanging richly around them. A startled bird flapped from a post into the air, gliding across the reeds.
"The bayeaus?"
"Aye."
Sabre walked to the door of the house on stilts standing drunkenly in the swamp, charms jingling in the faint wind that stirred the Spanish moss hanging from the trees into movement also.
"Obeah! There be guests awaiting ye out 'ere, ye know."
"Coming, coming..."
The elderly black woman opened the door, blinking into the muted sunlight.
"Here, finally. Les bebes were missing y', Souris."
"Mama!"
Mouse flew into the woman's arms, crying and babbling in Creole patois.
Priss sniffed slightly, and patted at her eyes.
"We will be leaving anon. Long life, good health, sweetest love, Mouse dearest."
May it work out better this time.
Sabre bowed.
"Laissez le bon temps rouler, eh, Mousey? Be seeing you."
And the two cats vanished. Mouse turned, watching their forms blink out of sight before a tall woman sauntered through the beads of Mama's door.
"Welcome, to N'Awlins again, Souris. Do y' remember moi? Course not. I be Soliel. But call me Soli, ev'ry one does, y'see."
"Hello," Mouse stammered as the girl took her hand and squeezed it gently.
"I think we gonna get on like a 'ouse on fire, ma petite."