Can't Stop Cats
"Tyanthyn, what in Crow's name is that?"
You sighed as you set yourself across from your old friend, a small smile tugging at your mouth at your friend's expression of bafflement. Where it any other situation than the one you found yourself in you would likely be quite eager to tease him for losing his normal stoic facade.
"It's a cat."
Cyril looked distinctly unamused at your short response. "Yes, Tyanthyn, I can plainly see that. What I'm wondering is why it is here, and why it seems to be following you around." Even as he spoke, the furry little creature lept onto the table, sitting primly and staring at your friend with those strangely intent eyes.
You shrug. "Well, I imagine your second question is the answer to your first. As to why the little beast has taken to following me around, well, that story is both short and boring. Suffice it to say, mistakes were made on both sides, food was exchanged as an offering of apology, and now the creature has apparently 'adopted' me. Silver lining, no more rats running underfoot."
Cyril stared at you for a moment longer, before sighing and rubbing his temples. "Ok, so you fed the little guy, and he took to following you around. Just one question." Cyril gestures to his side, and you turn to see the endless expanse of water. "Why did you decide to bring him with you?!"
You rub your neck, a sheepish grin on your face. "Well, I didn't exactly plan to bring him, per se. I actually thought I'd left him behind, I even went so far as to distract him with a little food as I was leaving, so he wouldn't follow me. I boarded the ship, and I was certain I lost the little fellow. I even felt a bit sad as we set out." You pat the cat's head, his figure almost radiating amusement. You suspected he found the whole situation funny. "Then I heard a familiar sound, and there he was, calm as could be. I still have no clue how he knew which ship I would be on, nor how he managed to board without a single person noticing, but here he is."
Cyril stares at the cat for a long moment. The cat gives him no mind as he begins to clean himself. Finally, Cyril sighs again. "You at least cleared it with the crew, right? I'm not going to find myself tossed overboard because this rascal is stealing food, right?"
You shake your head. "No, it seems things like this happens occasionally. The little guys tend to kill any pests that are on board, and are pretty clean themselves, so nobody really minds when they stow away. Some sailors even think they are good luck."
"Of course they do." Cyril reaches out tentatively to pat the cat, but is forced to draw back his hand as the cat hisses. "Wha--"
You shrug again, continuing your petting of the creature. "He's pretty picky about who he let's touch him. Don't take it too personally."
The cat gives Cyril one last look, one you'd almost call smug, before giving you one last nudge with his head and running off to do whatever cats do.
Note: Was wondering what the first few people who brought cats over must have been like. Then I realized that it probably was the cats decision a lot of the time, not the persons.
