Breeze had woke up, moved out of his bed and went out to the garden to get some Chamomiles to treat his ever non opening eyes; mostly the right.
On his way out he smelled an old scent.
He brushed off the smell and the idea behind it.
A furry subject started rubbing herself against his legs and then loudly announced; “Breeze: this is Demoozi... He is back’
Breeze stood still. Tried to open his eyes, but the threads of pus prevented him of doing so. He ordered Limpy to keep limping away and went for his Chamomiles.
Those Chamomiles were special in a way; he did not have to wet them or boil them, he only needed to put them on his eyes every morning, and his ophthalmia would be cured for that day.
Those Chamomiles would die by sunset, only to revive the next day.
He only had to sing for them before sunset to make sure they return the next day.
Sometimes, he felt he did not want to do it, but Limpy made sure to nag upon him to sing. She and the Chamomiles enjoy his singing.
So, off he went to cleanse his eyes.
And then he saw Demoozi.
His eyes filled up with tears, instead of pus.
Demoozi tried to touch him, his neck, his eyes.
He moved away, stepped on the Chamomiles, returned to his garden room, and locked the door.