Poppy blinked sleepily, her hand reaching for a familiar, fluffy presence beside her pillow. Instead of soft fur, she found only empty sheets and a lingering sense of worry. "Muffin?" Her voice echoed in the quiet room, but the only answer was silence. With a determined bounce, Poppy slipped into her shoes and headed down the cobblestone street, hoping to find her best friend.

Poppy entered, scanning the shop for a flash of blue. The baker smiled and lifted a tray of freshly baked muffins, their tops brown and steaming. "Not that kind of muffin," she explained, shaking her head. "Mine is blue." The baker scratched his head, puzzled, and pointed toward the busy town square, where the day was just beginning.

The tailor greeted Poppy with a warm smile, showing her rolls of plush cloth and velvety scarves dyed every color imaginable. "She’s not soft like fabric," Poppy giggled, imagining Muffin tangled in yarn. "She’s fluffy—like a cloud with whiskers." The tailor laughed and suggested the park, then added with a chuckle, "Then she sounds like she belongs outdoors. Try the garden."

The librarian peered over her spectacles, her finger pressed to her lips. "Shhh," she whispered. "Can I help you?" "I’m looking for Muffin," Poppy replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is Muffin quiet?" "Oh no," Poppy grinned. "Muffin is loud." The librarian raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the garden, convinced Muffin hadn’t stayed long.

Evie, cheerful and concerned, appeared at the gate, her eyes bright. "You look worried," she said. "I can’t find Muffin," Poppy replied. "She’s blue and fluffy and loud." "I heard something humming and making noise near the garden," Evie thought aloud. "I’ll come with you." Together, they walked the winding path toward the old fountain, hope blooming with every step.

The gardener pointed, his hands muddy from tending flowers. "I saw something blue there," he said. "It chased the butterflies… then curled up and hummed." Poppy and Evie crept closer, following the unmistakable sound—Mrrrow… hmmm… Behind the fountain, Muffin sat: blue, fluffy, and very loud. Her tail flicked, and her eyes glowed with mischief.

Poppy[/@ch_1] scoops Muffin into her arms. The air is filled with the purring hum of reunion and the gleeful chorus of friends.] "There you are, Muffin," Poppy laughed, hugging her best friend tight. Neighbors gathered, drawn by the commotion, and smiled at the sight. It was clear now—Muffin wasn’t a muffin to eat, but a blue, fluffy cat with a purr that sounded like a happy hum. Muffin purred, her whiskers twitching, and everyone in the garden joined in the celebration of friendship found.