middaeg | [OPEN][May Catch-all]

[Mogget is not having a great time.

Ever since he came back from the group adventure into the Underground his magic has been... 'off'. Things that he used to do with ease are now backfiring or failing to work at all, and he doesn't dare attempt to change shape when there's no way to predict how it might end up.

This setback has made him, perhaps understandably, incredibly cranky.

There's a sharp fizzing bang from one of the small rooms off the library, and what follows is certainly not any recognisable language. That isn't because Mogget is somehow getting around whatever magic makes everyone here able to understand one another, but rather because he's screeching very indignantly in cat noises.

Anyone who dares investigate the source of the unholy noises will find Mogget looking very ruffled, his white fur standing on end, and a scorch mark on the floor in front of him.]

[Something that Mogget does not need hands, height or magic for is dealing with birds. Anyone who happens to be out doing the same thing might spot a white cat trotting back and forth with bunches of long white feathers in its mouth, putting them into a small pack. Most of them stick out of the top, but the cat is incredibly careful in tucking each one in the right way.

He doesn't often do things to make money, but sometimes it's useful to have a little coin tucked away. Where does he keep it? Well, he's not telling.

It is very difficult not to chase the birds. Cat hunting instincts are real when a not-cat has been a cat for long enough. Sometimes he simply sits and watches the birds walk around or engage in their mating dances, his whiskers twitching and a peculiar tension in his body. Other times he seems perfectly human in his behaviour, quietly sneaking about the birds to pick up and pluck the feathers without startling them.]

[Irhya, on the other hand, is having far poorer luck than the last time she tried this. Feeding them worked out well previously, but this time, random and unfortunate circumstances have caused her to fail each time. Between the idiot Witch stepping on a twig and compromising her friend-making attempt, and the peal of thunder from some silly magical altercation nearby, she decides it's time for a break.

She recognizes the cat, having seen him around, but doesn't make the connection to the person she spoke to looking for a Bond partner on the network; seeing him packing delicate white feathers into the small cat-sized bag has her doing a double take.]

How did you--?

[He looks at her immediately, stares for a moment, then lifts one paw up to gently tuck the feathers deeper into the little bag. The way he moves is peculiarly human, considering nothing about him looks human at all.

It's the level of intelligence in his sharp gaze that might be the most surprising.]

They're birds. It isn't difficult.

[Maybe she'll recognise his voice, if nothing else. Had they spoken, or had it only been text? Mogget wouldn't remember, and he does sometimes use text just to avoid certain questions.]

I would have thought your opposable thumbs would make it easy.

The gathering part is easy. The not scaring them part, not so much, evidently. I'm just not having good luck this time around, I suppose.

[She does notice the familiarity, but the connection still eludes her. This is definitely no ordinary cat, at any rate. Not even just a "talking" cat, either. Better to speak to him like any other, then.]

Though it's a wonder you don't scare them. I would have figured they'd recognize a cat as a predator and take off right then and there.

[Noting the cat-sized bag, she tilts her head curiously.]

Convenient little setup you've got there, I must say. Where'd you get the pouch?

A shop. Where else.

[Though he doesn't spend much time trying to make money, Mogget does have a little stash hidden away on the off-chance he might happen to need something that he has to pay for. Stealing fish off the docks now and then is one thing, but stealing everything wouldn't be very tasteful.]

And they might... but being seen as a predator can be as much about how you behave as anything else. And most birds are not known for being very bright.

[And it could be that they remember him from the last time, when he didn't try to eat any of them.]

Were you looking for some advice?

Guess I could use some. This didn't seem so hard last year...

[A blunt one, huh. It does sort of hearken back to that one looking for a Bond on the network a while back... Very much so, actually.]

Or I suppose I could use a more competent partner, too.

[Blunt? Yes. Mogget prefers to think of it as not wasting time on unnecessary niceties. He doesn't need anyone to like him (though some people seem to anyway, which remains a complete mystery to him).]

Ah. So it's help you want, not advice.

[He gives his small pack a look. It's stuffed with about as much feathers as are likely to fit in it without losing some along the way back, but the cat is so rarely deliberately helpful. He considers his position for a long moment, then blinks once and flicks the tip of his tail.]

The best advice I might give you is to keep in mind how much larger you are than they. No matter how quiet you think you're being, or how careful.

[It's hard to help the slight sound of would-be laughter she makes at the deliberate snubbing of her request for help.]

Right... That is the typical feline answer, I suppose.

[In an almost mirror image to Mogget's, the tip of her tail flicks.]

I'm just on an unlucky streak today, apparently. It's not that I can't do it alone, but I'm halfway worried I'll screw it up at this point. Not to mention most of them prefer to sleep at night, so I'm stuck waiting until they're active again when the sun goes down, which is when I'd normally work on it.

[If he could raise his eyebrows, he'd be doing it right now. As it is, he simply stares at her for a few long moments.]

They may be easier to sneak up on while they're sleeping.

[He hasn't been here while they sleep, so he doesn't know if they sleep on the ground or in the trees. The latter wouldn't be much of an issue for him.]

I have wondered if I could use magic on them.

[If your home has a south-facing windowsill, there's a good chance that at some point during the week you will find a small white cat sleeping on it. He doesn't appear to need a lot of room, though his fur smushed up against the outside of the window speaks volumes as to how carefully he is balancing there.

Disturbed from the outside he will open one eye and yawn, and stare at you as if he would very much like to know what you're doing disturbing his nap.

From the inside... well, it depends if you try to open the window or not.]

[L's window is, in fact, south-facing. And though the man didn't always spend the night alone before attending the Phylax workshop, it's never true, now that he has one.

The orca whale, roughly the size of a Clydesdale, seems to have separation anxiety, and when she's not crowding the bed next to her witch, she's "swimming" through the air in lazy circles around his room, looking for diversions to ease an intelligent animal's tendencies toward boredom as L slumbers.

A white cat dozing on the outside windowsill fits the bill rather nicely; that's not usually there. That's new, and different. The orca Phylax snakes out a broad tongue, luxuriously licking the pane of glass, glistening razor-sharp teeth exposed in all their alarming glory.]

[Mogget hadn't really taken much time to look inside the window before he decided he was going to sleep outside of it. This, in true cat fashion, is because he really doesn't care if the person living there wants him to be sleeping there or not.

It's the prickling sensation of being observed that rouses him, and he lifts and turns his head just in time to get a good look at that massive, toothy tongue pressed up against the other side of the glass.

He lets out a surprised yowl, sitting up and bristling, batting at the glass instinctively with one paw.]

[ viren's returning from some venture or another - currently having taken on his small dragon form. he means to stalk back to his front door when, passing it by, he finds an unexpected visitor loitering on a windowsill. that gives the dragon pause, a paw lifted midair as he studies what he can see of any tufts of white fur from below. ]

[ with a flutter of wings, he hops onto the sill - likewise about mogget's size when it comes to managing his balance on the surface. and so he perches, neatly, staring down at the cat; his expression might be more difficult to read as a dragon, but it certainly looks - skeptical. ]

[ without moving to otherwise awaken him, ]

You must be that Witch.

That Witch?

[The voice comes from somewhere in the region of the cat's belly, where his nose is neatly tucked. Just how any cat manages to breathe comfortably with their face covered in their own fur is anyone's guess, but Mogget doesn't seem to be having any trouble.

He lifts his head and looks up slowly, his vibrant green eyes settling on the curious-looking little dragon.]

And who are you, to make that assumption?

[OPEN][May Catch-all]

Coven

Pretty Plumage

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Sleeping on your windowsill

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