Eight years ago, a thin stray cat started showing up in our yard. She wouldn't let anyone near, so we left food on the back balcony and waited.
It took three or four years before she'd come within a meter of us. Last year, she finally let us touch her. This year, we can lift her for a moment — but she's never let us really hold her, and she's never once stepped inside the house. She stays out there: ours, and not quite ours.
Under our care she went from skin and bones to round and soft — that's how she got her name. We don't know how old she is. We just watch her slow down, a little more each year.
So I made her. A relief for the wall. A case to carry. A pendant to wear. Because we can't hold her — but this way, she's with us anyway.
That's where Moroyal began. And it's what we make for you now: the one you love, kept close — on the wall, in your hand, wherever you need them to be.
