*A lone moon's outline,
set against a backdrop
of midnight blue and stars,
highlights a tiny kitten
singing softly
in its pale glow.*

Carefully aware of the many eyes resting upon her, Sillabub hesitated, then opened her mouth perhaps too quickly and began singing in a high, trembling voice. "Midnight... not a sound from the pavement..."

Her parents - Jellylorum and Asparagus - watched in tense silence from the corner of the Junkyard, nearly certain their only kitten was going to fail miserably, yet sending their hearts out to aid her in that which she sung. 

The kit's voice quickly began raising higher and gaining in confidence as she sang the verses Grizabella had sung in sorrow the year before, at the Jellicle Ball.

Sillabub concentrated solely on the words and melody of what she was singing - accentuating the sharps and flats, turning vibrato on with the notes she held longest. Her voice cut sharply into the silent Junkyard, sounding out of place in the unnatural stillness. Suddenly nervous, she 
found herself faltering on a complicated chord and had to force herself to swallow back her fear before she could even think of continuing again.

The tricoloured kitten closed her eyes against the blank faces looking at and listening to her. She listened only to her song, and it extended to last a lifetime; she was aware only of her voice, her entire being reaching out to *become* each note; she used every twist, trick, and accent she had ever been taught to make this one performance the best she had ever, or 
would ever, give out to anyone.

Finally, the ending note rang out in the still, cool air, and Sillabub licked her now-dry lips before opening her eyes to look once again on the empty faces ranging in front of her.

An eternity passed, and then some, before one voice rose above the scattered felines. "She sings with her soul."

This one statement seemed to burst a bubble of silence around the others. Murmurs of assent sounded, some comments standing out; things like, "A powerful performance," "Perfectly marvelous," but most importantly, or so it seemed to Sillabub at the time, "What if she isn't ready?"

"I am!" she wanted to shout out, "I'm ready! Oh, believe me, I can do this!" Yet she knew if she did, it would decide the outcome for her. She bit her lip and remained silent.

The scattered voices lowered, then cut off completely, as one feline stood from the center. His wizened gaze traveled over the others, then pierced her heart by staring straight at her wide, ice blue eyes. "She sings with her soul," he affirmed quietly. Sillabub's awareness left her body in joyous revel at his next words, "We accept her to the Mystical Divinity cathedral choir."