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Petpet Name: Rowling
Pet Name: Cotton_Candygum
Breed: White Weewoo
There is stillness. Not a sound can be heard but the soft moaning of the wind and the snow gently landing on the ground, blanketing everything with its purity.
There is little sign of life but for a small Weewoo flying in the night air. It flies in small circles and lands on a tangled tree branch, where it perches comfortably. Its fur is puffed up and fluffy to keep it warm. The snow is cold to its delicate skin, so it must keep its plumage feathery for protection.
It chirps, longing for something... shelter, food, warmth. Life was hard out here, in the wild. But the fear of being domesticated... of being a Petpet. It was the last thing a wild Weewoo could turn to and showed it was weak.
Tales told that domesticated Weewoos became plump with goodies and so spoiled, they would burst. Negative things were whispered about being owned by someone, but one thing that seemed to shine from everything was the love the myths described.
Love. It wasn't something you could find in the wild and use for survival. It was something that was felt and shared emotionally, of all odd things. It was what bonded master and Petpet, but the pride of Weewoos was too strong to even succumb to love.
But this Weewoo wasn't like the others. It had, for a long time, peeped through windows in the happy homes of Neopets with their Petpets. They were plump, yes, but not likely to burst. They all seemed much more merrier than outdoors.
It shivered, knowing this love couldn't be anything but a fantasy for him. As it tucked its tiny head in, he heard a cry of astonishment and looked up.
A Royalgirl Zafara was bundled up with winter wear, looking up at the shivering Weewoo. "Are you cold?" she sweetly asked, a puff of her breath coming sweet and hazy.
The Weewoo chirped feebly and tried to puff up more.
To its surprise, the Zafara climbed up the tree, even though she wore royal clothing, gently reached for the Weewoo, and put it in her pocket. It sighed contentedly and nestled itself.
The Zafara went inside her warm house, the crackle and sparks of a fire recognised by the Weewoo. It flew out of the pocket and landed in front of the fire, using its hot and flickering lights to further keep warm. The Zafara giggled and then got crackers from a pantry and made them into wee pieces. The Weewoo flew up to her lap and ate them from there happily.
After it was done, the Zafara gently cleaned its messy beak. "Would you like to stay here with me?" she asked, stroking its soft head. The Weewoo blinked in approval, and then closed its eyes at the great relaxation that came from being petted.
"Your name will be Rowling, little Weewoo." sighed the Zafara, holding the creature up to her nose and tickling it.
The Weewoo immediately knew right there that this was the mystical love it had heard about. And all he could say was it brought him great joy.
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