Humming tunelessly in a low purring voice, the orange kitty was nothing short of a ridiculous sight as she sat perched upon one of the square wooden tables – a particularly grumpy-looking librarian kept giving her these burning glares, as it that would ever chase off this intrepid cat – amidst a pile of books. It was an amazingly diverse selection of books, portraying Hattie’s personality and interests all within their titles. The books included Swim with Ducky , Advanced Thaumatology VII and A Thousand and One Flowers of Arda .

At this particular time – Hattie had been absorbed in her learning for the past few hours and had lost track of time, with nothing but her belly to give herself a rough estimate – she had cast aside the heavier reading and was poring over one of the children’s books, feeling all-around happy to be in such a place of learning and wisdom – that was the sage in her speaking – while the rest of her simply thought it was great fun to feel the cool wood beneath her paws, and marvel at the beautifully drawn pictures – that was the playful little kitten in her, of course.

With a weary sigh that passed for a yawn, the orange, dark-eyed mage cat allowed herself a slow, luxurious stretch, which earned her yet another smoldering glance from the librarian, as she accidentally knocked a heavy tome off the table with a loud clump. Feeling cooped up suddenly – her attention span fluttered constantly; it could hover anywhere between two seconds and years upon years – Hattie hoped off the table, careful of her hat as always, and began to pad her way through the library, looking for someone to pester talk to.

Lyon was finding himself in the library more and more often these days. It was strange, really, considering the fact that he didn't enjoy reading. It was much more likely to see a mercenary like himself at a pub, enjoying a cold drink, instead of surrounded by books. Yet, as he spent more time in the city, he came here in his spare time. There were things he was curious about, after all, and where better to find answers than in one of the world's greatest libraries?

He was immersed in a book describing this era's modern military tactics, and was looking at a picture of a complicated formation made up of light infantry. He was about to turn the page, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a most curious sight. A orange cat was innocently making it's way through the library as though it was entirely normal for animals to be there. Lyon couldn't help but wonder how it got inside. Stranger, though, was that the feline was wearing a hat, which was certainly not a normal accessory for such a creature. The mercenary figured that it must have been someone's idea of a joke.

"Hey, there, kitty." he said, smiling. "You lost? You better be careful, I doubt the librarians want a cat in here. You can come over here if you want, I'll make sure they don't do anything to you." Laughing quietly to himself and shaking his head in amusement, he turned back to his book. Why am I talking to a cat? he asked himself. The only answer that he could think of was that he must be very, very bored.

Hattie slackened her pace and stopped altogether after another second when her sensitive ears heard that someone was addressing her. Cocking her head at the strange half-demon, the small tabby cat took her time settling onto her haunches and wrapping her tail around her forepaws as she listened to him. Aww…He was worried about her! How cute! Narrowly holding back a giggle that would have given her sentience away, the kitty decided she could have some fun with this person.

“Meow?” Hattie mewed innocently – though with the slightest hint of playfulness – as if she were nothing more than a regular housecat. But a second later, Hattie suddenly leaped off her haunches and onto the table with lightning speed, tail swishing behind her for balance as she landed. She could certainly have landed more gracefully – she’d clumsily knocked a small pile of books off the table again, cueing yet another irritated glare from Mrs. Grumpyhead – but she paid no heed to that.

“Hi!” she squealed loudly, her equivalent of shouting “Boo!” as she silently willed the magic within her to cast the illusion of a fierce tiger – but only for the briefest of seconds to further shock her newfound playmate. This was one of her favorite games to play with people who didn’t know her yet, since it was just so funny to see their faces. Giving him a Cheshire cat grin, she broke into her never-ending flow of conversation again.

“Hi!” she repeated first, “I’m Hattie. What’s your name? Do you like the library? I like the library! It’s so much fun and all the books are always so…so…awesome! What’s your favorite book! I like lotsa books so I can’t choose. Ooh, what are you reading? It looks cool! Can I see? Is this your favorite book? I-“ she paused a moment to suck in a breath, briefly pausing in her constant barrage on the peaceful atmosphere around her.

The cat meowed at him, just like any normal feline would do, and then leaped up onto the table, knocking several books off in the process. Lyon grinned; usually animals didn't like him very much. He didn't know why. Probably for the same reason that kids didn't take to him. There was something that about him that just kept them away.

"Hi!" the cat shouted at him. But the cat was no longer a cat, it had changed into a large tiger that had no right to stand on a small reading table. Lyon's eyes went wide, and his reflexes responded, bringing his hand under his cloak to find something to protect himself with...but in an instant, the tiger was once again a cat. Lyon blinked, rubbed his eyes, and then regarded the creature warily. It was becoming very obvious that this cat was no ordinary animal.

The "cat", if that was what it really was, then began a stream of enthusiastic words, causing Lyon's brain to go into a sort of befuddled stupor at the sight of a cat talking. Several of the other occupants of the library gave a few looks over to the table, trying to figure out who was talking.

When the tabby cat was done speaking, it began to suck in breath, and Lyon realized that it was probably going to continue talking. He lurched forward and interrupted it to prevent this from happening.

"I...I'm Lyon." he answered. He then regarded the next question he should ask this odd feline. "Er," he began, somewhat awkwardly. "I don't mean to sound rude, but...what are you? I mean, you can't be an ordinary cat. Cats don't...well, cats don't talk." He glanced around, as though expecting a few of the people around him to shout "yeah!" or "that's right!" but no other voices came to support him. He was left alone to deal with this very curious experience.

There was a silence in which Lyon could speak only because Hattie, with her seemingly nonexistent attention span, had allowed her gaze to wander back to the intricately drawn pictures of the battle formation. Rudely pulling the book away from the half-demon with an outstretched forepaw, Hattie curiously read the descriptive paragraph beneath each formation, only half-listening to her playmate’s words.

“Heehee…Of course I’m not a cat, sillyhead! I’m a kitty!” she mewed proudly, not realizing how useless this answer was, “A cute little kitty…Do you think I’m cute? Lotsa people think I look cute with my hat. ‘Cept sometimes I can look scary too! I can be a big bad tiger and stuff! Hey, what’re you looking for?” Hattie asked inquisitively as she realized Lyon was looking around. But, of course, the hyper sage cat forgot her own question a second later, mewing on full steam ahead.

“Whatcha reading? It looks neat! But kinda violent…I don’t like fighting. I think it’s all so mean and sad…Are you a soldier? You shouldn’t be a soldier. People shouldn’t fight. They should be happy and have picnics! Ooh, I love picnics. Do you want to have a picnic with me? I don’t have real food, but I can make imaginary food look real with magic! Do you know magic? I love magic. And lotsa other things. Like candy and fish and daisies and butterflies and big puffy clouds and duckies and other things.”

Hattie once more had to pause for breath, gulping it in hungrily as she began to hum a children’s song under her breath, happy to have someone to talk to and willing (or so she thought) to listen to her talk about anything and everything. Clumsily, she tried to turn the page of the book in front of her with a paw, but the page slipped out of her grasp halfway up and flopped back down. Trying again, the cat licked her paw this time, to wet it, before attempting to turn the page again, succeeding this time. Oops! Hopefully the librarian wouldn’t notice the little rip she made there!

The cat...didn't it say it's name was Hattie?...pulled the book away from him, and Lyon realized that it was actually reading it. A cat. Reading. And talking. And casting spells! What on earth was going on? He thought that maybe he was finally following in the footsteps of his father and beginning to go insane.

“Heehee…Of course I’m not a cat, sillyhead! I’m a kitty!” Hattie said to him.

"Oh." Lyon said noncommittally. "Of course. A kitty, not a cat. My mistake." He stared somewhat blankly at her before she went into another bout of cat-talk. He had trouble paying attention as his brain forced him to get a grip on this bewildering aspect of reality, and it was only after she had finished speaking that he snapped out of the reverie.

"Huh?" he said, running his fingers through his hair. "Oh, yes, I suppose you could say that I'm a soldier...a mercenary, really. There's a difference. I'm not enlisted in any kind of military force, I just kind of wander around and get hired to fight..." He realized that this wouldn't do much to reassure the cat...kitty... whatever it was, and quickly added, "But it's the bad guys that I fight. You know, I protect travelers against bandits, hunt down thieves, that kind of thing. So, I'm not a bad guy." He looked at the tabby, and shook his head again, trying to clear it. Then he frowned. He was still confused.

Then something the cat had said came back to him. "You...you like duckies?" he repeated, somewhat weakly. It was too much. He groaned and put his head in his hands, staring down at the table. "I've gone crazy." he said, to no one in particular.

Seth looked up when he heard something fall. He decided the cat that for some reason wearing a hat had knocked a few books off a table. So he went back to reading his book The Adventures of Mr. Happy and Mr. Death . He looked up again at the sound of someones voice and it looked like some guy was talking to the cat. He saw the guy look around so he turned back to his book. He decided to just read his book and keep an eye on them.

He read a few more pages, and looked at them again now it looked like the cat was reading. He thought a few seconds and then said to himself, " Well a talking cat should read." Then he thought he saw the guy say something to the cat.

“Huhwhat?” squealed the distracted kitty, wrenching her attention away from the strange white-haired man staring at her as her ears flicked at the mention of duckies.

“Crazy? I don’t think you’re crazy. We could all be crazy you know. Crazy, I tell you! We could be like, brains in…In…Gourds! And…Um…Or…Did you say you like duckies too? I love duckies! ‘Cept they always run away from me…I wonder why…You’re a good guy? That’s wicked! You fight crime? Like a superhero? That’s so awesome! Do you have a cape? You should have a cape. A red one. I bet you do. Ooh, do you have a secret identity and a superhero name? C’mon…I won’t tell anyone…Is it like…Superduckie? Heehee…That sounds funny…

I don’t like bad people. They’re mean and scary and mean and they don’t think I’m cute. Hey, you never said I was cute! You do think so, right? I can be cute…”

As if to prove this, Hattie quieted down, adjusting her ragged hat so that it was more presentable, sat back down on her haunches, and looked up at her new friend with big moony eyes that would make even an ogre melt. To complete the image she even gave a low throaty purr, though one could see she was visibly trembling with the effort of keeping still. She managed a good five seconds before beginning to talk again, oblivious to Lyon’s obvious headache.

“So…Nice weather today, isn’t it? Well, not in here, since you can’t really feel anything, but outside. I like it when it’s sunny. Everyone’s all happy and energetic and nice and friendly and amicable and garrulous and happy and bright and optimistic and happy! Do you like sunny days? Everybody loves sunny days! Except maybe vampires. I met a vampire once. He was nice. He gave me a lollipop. Mmm…That was a really tasty one too. I think it was grape flavored. Do you like candy? I think sweet things are the bestest food ever! Hey, you never told me your superhero name!”

He read a few more pages and it looked like the cat was talking again. " Wow that cat either talks/meows a lot." ,He said to himself. " Why am I talking to my self? "

Seth thought the cat was looking at him for a second. He decided to walk by to pretend he was on his way to the bathroom. When he passed the table he thought he heard something about super heroes(sp?).

Great he thought, as he heard the cat begin to talk again. So a talking cat doesn't think I'm crazy. That's real reassuring. He looked back up, and saw the kitty sitting back on it's haunched and giving him a wide-eyed looked, much to his dismay. It was kind of cute...

Ah, to hell with it he told himself, and decided to just go with the flow of things. "Well, no." he said, trying to get a few words in between Hattie's unending torrent of words. "I'm not a superhero. I fight for money. It's kind of like a job. I get paid to fight the bad guys." He wondered how th cat would take this. It would probably result in another flow of enthusiastic words.

He couldn't help grinning. Here he was, talking to a cat. He had traveled all over Arda, and yet this was one of the strangest things he had ever encountered. He laughed out loud, not caring who heard him. Then, forcing himself to become serious again, he reached out a hand tentatively and gently patted the tabby on the head. "You are kind of cute." he admitted, still smiling.

Hattie pawed the table and gave another throaty purr with exaggerated modesty, as if she hadn’t been waiting for this comment the whole time. But on the inside she smiled; she could work her cute charms on anybody!

“So you’re a paid superhero? That’s even cooler, since none of the other ones get paid. So you’re rich? You are, right? Superheros are rich. I bet you have lots of money and you buy all kinds of things like candy and duckies and giant mansions and butlers names Jeeves and stuff and fancy horsies and ponies and fancy clothes and a lake and an island and a forest and a tree house – no, a whole village of tree-houses! – and…Tree houses are neat. I wish I had one. They look so comfy and I could look down on everyone like the queen of the world and be like ‘Rawr!’ and they’d bow down to me and give me things! Except not peanut butter. Peanut butter’s gross. I don’t like peanuts. You don’t like peanuts, right?”

True to form, the hyper druid didn’t bother waiting for an answer as her haphazard mind started to wonder how butterflies flew and if she could try it. They made it look so easy! And cute little bumblebees too…Wait, where was she? Blinking, the orange cat pulled herself back to reality (albeit with some difficulty) and remembered that she was in the library, having lapsed off into the blissful land of daydreaming.

“Hi. I’m Hattie. Oh wait…Where were we? Um…Hey, what do you do besides be a paid superhero? Do you go on magical adventures? I do – except I do it all the time, since I don’t get to be a paid superhero like some lucky people. I go exploring everywhere and have so much fun! Oh, you should come with me! We can play and explore and have adventures!”

Seth thought he heard the guy laugh." Well he has to be talking to someone/thing. I guess I'll go talk to him. " He walked back to the table they where sitting at. Okay, I'm sure the cat was talking that time. He stood there for a second and then said, " Hi, I've been siting over there." and pointed to where he had been siting. "And I was wondering have you been talking to that cat? It looked like you were." He took a breath and waited for a reply.




OOC: Can you guys tell me any major mistakes you see with my post, grammar - spelling wise. And anyways I could make them longer?

((To Luneth: You may want to take a look at the writing reviews forum, found here))

"Nah, I don't like peanuts." Lyon said, responding to her question, though he doubted she even heard his answer. She seemed to have gone into some kind of trance and wasn't paying him the slightest attention. He leaned back and waited patiently, while looking around the library, before Hattie came out of her little daydream, and began talking yet again, seeming to be a little confused as to where she was. She reintroduced herself, then got her bearings back and plowed on.

"I'm not a superhero." he repeated. "I'm a mercenary. There's a big difference." He looked at the cat, which was standing there so full of optimism and enthusiasm, and he sighed. "You know what?" he said, deciding that there was no point in arguing. "Yeah. I'm a superhero. And no, I'm afraid I haven't gone on any magical adventures lately. I'm not too confident with magic, see. I'm no good with it. I don't have the power to use it. But you don't seem to have that problem, do you? Judging from that little scare you gave me earlier, you're pretty good with it." He contemplated this idea. A cat that was skilled with magic. Now that was something you didn't see every day...

At that moment, a person came to their table. " Hi, I've been siting over there." he said, pointing to a table not very far away. "And I was wondering, have you been talking to that cat? It looked like you were." Lyon looked at him, slightly bemused, then shrugged and made a motion towards Hattie.

"Why don't you ask her?" he said, grinning. If this fellow hadn't already figured out what this cat could do, then he was in for a shock.

(Yeah, to work on length, I advice describing your character's thoughts more. I'm sorry - I can't think of anything else)

“Mercenary? That doesn’t sound as nice as Superduckie the superhero…I’m just gonna call you that, okay? Okay. Great. Oh, it doesn’t have to be a magical adventure! We could go anywhere, like go camping in the forest and hiking in the mountains, and a walking on the beach…But no swimming. I don’t like being wet – it feels so weird, like I weigh a bazillion pounds. And then I have to be like a dog and shake all the water out of my fur and all the other stuff – like one time there was this gross seaweed wrapped around me and another time this crab –“

The cat broke off sharply as another man approached them, asking Lyon a question. As Hattie saw and seized the chance to have some more fun with Lyon – it was so very difficult to hold back the maniacally mischievous giggle that threatened to give her away – she carefully assumed a less upright stance, and made sure that she dimmed the ever-present twinkle in her eye, so that she would appear as nothing more than a normal kitty with a hat.

So Superduckie thinks he can give him a scare, huh? This’ll be fun!

Dropping her head so that her hat fell off, Hattie once again employed the innocent mew as she imitated a docile housecat, though this time she did not immediately blow the hoax. Her goal was to embarrass her new best friend forever as she reverted back to normal cat for a minute or two. Then he would really feel insane!

“Meow…”

Feigning shyness, the kitty cautiously nuzzled the white-haired man with her pink little nose, before drawing back and staring at him with her dark seemingly soul-less eyes, meowing every now and then. Impatiently her tail swished around, waiting for one of the men to break the boring silence.

" Okay I guess I will. " He replied. He turned to the cat and looked at it. Wow what cute little cat and great actor/tress.He thought to himself. Deciding not to tell them he knew it could talk. Might as well have a little fun with it. He reached out and patted it on the head" Hi little guy whats your name?"

Hattie rambled on in what Lyon was quickly beginning to realize was her usual fashion, saying everything that came to mind, without pausing for a second to breath or think. She certainly was an amusing little cat. Lyon sighed as he heard that he was to be called "Superduckie". It wouldn't do for the employers to hear that...why couldn't he have a more dangerous sounding nickname?

Upon his response to the stranger that had suddenly appeared, Hattie became very still and quiet. Lyon frowned at her; he knew that there was something strange going on. What was she playing at? She had been talking at a rate of ten words a second only a moment ago, and now, before this newcomer, she was as quiet and docile as a...well, as a cat. Was she trying to embarrass him?

" Hi little guy, what's your name?" the white-haired man asked Hattie.

Lyon scowled at the feline. "Her name's Hattie." he said. "I don't know why she's not telling you that herself, seeing as how I know she can talk." He added quite a bit of force into this statement, trying to give her a hint towards the notion that she was supposed to say something. Yet she remained silent, swishing her tail back and forth.

"Well, she's not saying anything now, but I swear to you, this cat was talking just a second ago" he said, frowning in a disconcerted way. Why wasn't she saying anything? Perhaps he was going crazy? No, that was impossible...then an idea came to him. Lyon looked around suspiciously. Maybe someone had cast a confuse spell on him...yes, that had to be it! There was surely some mage lurking around, trying to distract him so that some bounty hunter that had been hired by an individual that held a grudge against him could sneak up on him and kill him. Well, he wasn't going to fall for it! Reaching his hand inside his cloak, he grabbed hold of his dagger, prepared to pull it out and defend himself in an instant.

Mewing, Hattie was giggling on the inside as she watched the confused expression on Superduckie’s face, though she became a little anxious when her friend snapped his hand to somewhere inside his cloak, for even the happy-go-lucky Hattie could see that he intended on bringing out a weapon. The mature part of her mind – which wasn’t very large in comparison to her fun-loving self –realized she should probably put an end to the joke, having had her fun, but she decided to just wait and watch; it wasn’t as if anyone was gonna get hurt, right? After all, the sage kitty reasoned, her reflexes could always stop Superduckie in time if he went berserk and tried to attack the white-haired man or something.

“Meow...” she repeated one of the few words that made up the feline tongue, looking at the stranger now (after just a minute or two, she already considered Superduckie to be one of her best friends) and mewed again, almost blowing her cover by indignantly squealing that she was not a “little guy” – she was a mature little kitty, and a female one at that. Unfortunately, the orange-furred at saw, out of the corner of her deep black eyes, that the librarian had had quite enough of the commotion and was rising, no doubt coming to kick them out. Yowling softly, she reflexively put up an illusion – to further mystify everyone – of a circular expanse of brick wall around the trio, stalling the librarian so she could finish her fun.

“M-m-mew?” Hattie whimpered, feigning surprise and fear at the sudden apparition.

There were a few tense seconds, as Lyon searched frantically for whoever was plotting against him. His hand was wrapped tightly around the hilt of his dagger, and the palm was beginning to sweat. But he didn't want to startle Hattie or the newcomer...

He noticed that a librarian was coming towards them. Lyon watched her suspiciously. Surely it wasn't her? Before she could get any closer, a brick wall sprang up around the table. Lyon blinked. It was still there. He blinked again, and rubbed his eyes for good measure. However, the brick wall remained, looking as sturdy as steel. Lyon glanced at the white-haired man in a mixture of surprise and bemusement. "Well, now, that's something you don't see every day." he said, shaking his head in amazement. What was going on? Ever since he had run into this cat, extremely strange occurrence were happening all around him. First, the cat talked, then it cast spells, then it stopped talking and acted how cats should act. Now, a brick wall, of all things, had appeared!

Lyon glanced at Hattie. Seeing her there, sitting innocently and acting as though she had no idea what was going, forced him to smile. Releasing the death grip on his weapon, he reached out a hand and stroked her again. Giving her a very serious look, he muttered, "You are a very strange kitty, you know that? I wonder what's going to happen next. Any ideas?" He felt certain that there was a brain behind that furry head, and that this was just another trick of the mischievous feline.

Having had her fun – for now, anyways. Hattie was, in the long run, insatiable when it came to her mischievous little games and let the charade drop – literally. With a cheeky grin that clearly announced her sentience, she waggled her head at Superduckie with a ”Woof!” that signified her approval of his assumption.

“Oh, you think I’m strange?” she queried, over exaggerating fake hurt, “And those cats that spend all day running after butterflies and mice or licking themselves in places I don’t wanna think about are all so normal, right? I mean we all know everybody runs around licking their hands and meowing!” she declared, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“So, where were we? Oh yes – the look on your face! It was great! We should have a tea party sometimes. I just love having tea parties! But they’re always so lonely cause there’s no one else there except Mr. Carrothead. You should meet him some time. He’s really fun to watch juggle. But – oh wait – you’re a boy , aren’t you? So you probably spend all your time doing boy stuff like slaying monsters and stuff. Blech. Actually, that could be fun! We should go explore the beach sometime! Or the desert! I heard there’s buried treasure in the desert, you know. There’s like gazillions of doubloons and a golden cow and –“

The orange cat broke off again – this time involuntarily – as a very angry and frustrated librarian seized her roughly by the tail – and with surprisingly good accuracy for such a stuffy old woman – chucked the offending cat out of the window. The bewildered people in the library heard a solid sounding thump a few moments later, followed by her indignant squeals.

“I’m okay! But that wasn’t very nice, you know. How would you like it if I threw you out the window?”

"Woof!" Hattie exclaimed enthusiastically. If that didn't prove that he was correct about her intelligence, nothing would.

Lyon sighed and glanced at the white-haired man with a look of long-suffering patience as Hattie talked. She didn't get too far into her one-way conversation, however; soon enough, the librarian lost her patience. She stumped over to them, gripped the cat by her tail, and swung her around, sending her flying through an open window. Lyon almost laughed, but stopped himself as concern for the cat made him wonder if she was alright. His fears were soon assuaged as he heard the indignant feline shout through the window.

“I’m okay! But that wasn’t very nice, you know. How would you like it if I threw you out the window?”

"She has a point." Lyon said to the furious librarian. "I expect that if I were to toss you around, you'd get a little cranky, eh?" The woman scowled and walked away, muttering under her breath. The other occupants of the library were talking to each other in hushed whispers, some amused, others angry at the way the cat had been treated. Lyon shrugged at the other man, and said, "If you'll excuse me?" He walked slowly over to the window and looked out, to be met with the sight of Hattie sitting there.

"Hey!" he shouted out to her. "I'll be there in a minute, just hold on!" He strode away from the window, and walked through the exit. He then had to go around a corner on the outside of the library, and after a few more paces, saw Hattie. "That was mean of her, wasn't it?" he said to her, though he couldn't help chuckling.

Lying ridiculously on her back, Hattie was half-giggling also as she stared upside down at Superduckie, waving her paws in the air as if peddling an imaginary bicycle. She was a little battered, but other than that, her fur wasn’t ruffled - both literally and figuratively. When she saw the superhero approach, she made no attempt to get up, feigning injury in the hopes that she be carried around like a queen if she looked piteous enough.

“Hey there, Superduckie! Nice of you to drop by! You know, if anyone tells you cats always land on their feet, don’t believe them. Owwie – I think I have a booboo. It was kind of fun to fly through the air like that though. It’s like I’m a superhero too! Do you fly around like that all the time? Does your cape go like “Whoosh” and “Whish” and lots of other awesome sounds like that? Oh, but then the evil archers would be like PEW PEW with their ebil arrows of death and – hey, I met a man with arrows yesterday. He was nice, too, but he wouldn’t let me play with his exploding arrows. It’s not like I wouldn’t have been careful! It’d have been fun…

You know, I would never shoot a bow. Archers look cool but they must be sooo bored all day since they stand in like one position forever. I can’t even stay still in my sleep! There was this one time I was sleeping on a roof and I rolled right off! That’s when I found out I don’t land on my feet…Luckily it was a snowy day. Otherwise that’d have been a major owwie! I love it when it snows. Do you like snow? It’s kinda cold but building snowmen is so much fun! I like to dress them up and then they talk to me and tell me all kinds of stories. And we have tea parties except the hot tea makes them melt so we just drink eggnog instead but eggnog tastes so blech…”

And so she rambled. Good to see some things never change.

Lyon walked over to the upside-down cat, wrapped his hands around her, and flipped her upright. He got the suspicious feeling that she had been hoping to be carried, judging from the way she had acted hurt. Then he nodded sagely at her mention of exploding arrows. "Yeah, I suppose it would have been fun," he responded, "that is, of course, if you consider blowing yourself up as 'fun'. How could you possibly shoot a bow, anyway? You haven't even got fingers!" He shook with mirth as a vivid mental image of a cat standing on the ramparts of a city, with a bow in hand, entered his mind. Now that would be a sight to see!

He sighed and looked back at the library. That woman really had had no right to do that...sure, Hattie was a blabbermouth, loud, and obnoxious, but Lyon had come to realize that she couldn't help it. After all, she was a cat. A talking cat.

"I don't think it would be too good an idea to try to go back inside," he said. "For some strange reason, I get the feeling that the librarian didn't like you very much." He looked towards the streets, where a large number of people were going about their business. Some little kids passed bye, staring wide-eyed at the cat, a few audible "awww"s reaching his ears. So they thought she was cute, eh? What would people say if they saw a battle-hardened mercenary wandering around with such a fluffy creature? Lyon decided that he didn't care.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" Lyon suggested. "Maybe we could stop by a pub. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

And so he strode forwards, hoping that his new friend would come along with him.

“Hey!” Hattie complained as she puffed out her fur, as if that would make her look more ferocious.

“I can have fingers if I want to, you know! I can be anything I want!” she boasted, about to prove her point when she got distracted by a group of small children, the latest additions to her fan club. Delighted with the attention, she momentarily forgot about Superduckie as she struck a few poses – to more squeals by the children – before beginning to talk to Superduckie once more, very matter-of-factly. The kids just gaped.

“Hey, did you know that a small child can crawl through the major arteries of a blue whale? And that men without chest hair are more likely to get cirrhosis of the liver than men with hair? Interesting, isn’t it? I know a whole bunch of stuff. I don’t really like pubs. All the people there are so self-absorbed – they never even comment on me! Hey, why do you keep looking around like that? I’m not that embarrassing, you know. Here, let me help you feel better. Close your eyes and count to…one.”

Deciding to put on a more intimidating look – for Superduckie’s sake, since he looked so uncomfortable, as well as the fact that she wanted to get a good scare out of the crows again – the sage kitty took a deep breath of magic – it was abundant here, especially with the kids – and willed herself into a lithe white tigress. Even in this low, husky voice, one could tell it was Hattie by her giggles, as she flashed her claws, feigning menace.

“Pretty cool, huh? Rawrrr…” she growled at a passing woman, who wasted no time in deciding that it was the perfect day to take a brisk jog in the other direction, whilst exercising her lungs.

(Should our topic be somewhere else now?)