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"BUT WHY IS SHE A CAT?" a male voice thundered, and Tersa did what Tersa always did when The Boy tossed a tantrum. She ignored it.
"Sit down and drink your milk. You'll feel better," she informed him, setting the glass on the table. "Why not a cat?"
"Tersa..." Sadi ran his hands through his hair, looking increasingly distressed. "You said she'd turn back."
"She will."
"It's been TWO MONTHS!"
The subject of the discussion just yawned at him, showing off quite impressive teeth while she flexed her claws into the wood of the table. "And WHY is there a cat on the table?"
"It's not 'a' cat, it's Surreal. And she's not going to eat on the floor, now is she?" Really, boys could be quite dense sometimes, and Tersa slid the glass directly in front of him, hoping he'd take the hint. "I don't know why you're so worked up. For once you know exactly how many knives she has on her, there's not a witch alive that's going to recognize her as long as you stop shouting, and her ability to sass you back has been drastically reduced to claws and those bloodcurdling screams she makes. And her hearing is excellent so you can't wonder if she's gone deaf when she does the complete opposite of what you told her to do. Now you know she's just ignoring you."
"How do you even know Surreal is in there? Or that it's really Surreal? Or that she's going to change back?"
"First it was 'why is she a cat?' then 'why is she still a cat,' and now back to the 'why is she a cat' and nothing for the how or the why a cat and not a bird or a deer or a snake, as if cats with Craft can walk the streets in Draega all day." Tersa shook her head. "Not that Surreal needs Craft to make you miserable, because I do believe she is going to scratch you - again - if you don't stop calling her 'a cat' and start using her name."
"She may be a kind of Kindred yet she is Kindred and not kind, whether on four legs or two, and you had best get used to it. Surreal is not a pet." Surreal howled her agreement, getting up to pad across the table and rub against Tersa. "Yes, you're beautiful as a Bengal, my stone-girl, but you might want to be a girl again eventually. Not for him, just for you."
"Wait, you know what kind of cat she is?" Because that was clearly the important point here. "Tersa, you're making it sound like she turned into that cat on purpose."
"And there's never been times you were sad and would rather be a cat, pampered and free, rather than a Boy?" Tersa replied, scooping Surreal up in her arms. "Of course she knows what kind of cat she is, and I asked her. She has a book. It's in her room, if you're curious."
"What the Hell has she got to be sad about? She's out of that insane school, away from those other witches and Queens, and she's finally going to the Red Moon apprenticeship so she can earn a decent living and not starve in the street. And if we're lucky and she has sense, she's going to give up this vendetta of hers against her sire and keep her damned head down and stop trying to stab anyone who looks at her funny."
Surreal's ears flattened, and she wormed her way out of Tersa's arms, silently hitting the floor and vanishing through the window and out into the street.
Tersa watched her go, out and over the fence and up a trellis before vanishing from view. She sighed, shaking her head. "You are my dear Boy," she said softly. "But you don't understand women, cats, or stones, Daemon."
[OOC: NFB, NFI! Surreal will be back to normal next week, just really wanted to do this one.]
"Sit down and drink your milk. You'll feel better," she informed him, setting the glass on the table. "Why not a cat?"
"Tersa..." Sadi ran his hands through his hair, looking increasingly distressed. "You said she'd turn back."
"She will."
"It's been TWO MONTHS!"
The subject of the discussion just yawned at him, showing off quite impressive teeth while she flexed her claws into the wood of the table. "And WHY is there a cat on the table?"
"It's not 'a' cat, it's Surreal. And she's not going to eat on the floor, now is she?" Really, boys could be quite dense sometimes, and Tersa slid the glass directly in front of him, hoping he'd take the hint. "I don't know why you're so worked up. For once you know exactly how many knives she has on her, there's not a witch alive that's going to recognize her as long as you stop shouting, and her ability to sass you back has been drastically reduced to claws and those bloodcurdling screams she makes. And her hearing is excellent so you can't wonder if she's gone deaf when she does the complete opposite of what you told her to do. Now you know she's just ignoring you."
"How do you even know Surreal is in there? Or that it's really Surreal? Or that she's going to change back?"
"First it was 'why is she a cat?' then 'why is she still a cat,' and now back to the 'why is she a cat' and nothing for the how or the why a cat and not a bird or a deer or a snake, as if cats with Craft can walk the streets in Draega all day." Tersa shook her head. "Not that Surreal needs Craft to make you miserable, because I do believe she is going to scratch you - again - if you don't stop calling her 'a cat' and start using her name."
"She may be a kind of Kindred yet she is Kindred and not kind, whether on four legs or two, and you had best get used to it. Surreal is not a pet." Surreal howled her agreement, getting up to pad across the table and rub against Tersa. "Yes, you're beautiful as a Bengal, my stone-girl, but you might want to be a girl again eventually. Not for him, just for you."
"Wait, you know what kind of cat she is?" Because that was clearly the important point here. "Tersa, you're making it sound like she turned into that cat on purpose."
"And there's never been times you were sad and would rather be a cat, pampered and free, rather than a Boy?" Tersa replied, scooping Surreal up in her arms. "Of course she knows what kind of cat she is, and I asked her. She has a book. It's in her room, if you're curious."
"What the Hell has she got to be sad about? She's out of that insane school, away from those other witches and Queens, and she's finally going to the Red Moon apprenticeship so she can earn a decent living and not starve in the street. And if we're lucky and she has sense, she's going to give up this vendetta of hers against her sire and keep her damned head down and stop trying to stab anyone who looks at her funny."
Surreal's ears flattened, and she wormed her way out of Tersa's arms, silently hitting the floor and vanishing through the window and out into the street.
Tersa watched her go, out and over the fence and up a trellis before vanishing from view. She sighed, shaking her head. "You are my dear Boy," she said softly. "But you don't understand women, cats, or stones, Daemon."
[OOC: NFB, NFI! Surreal will be back to normal next week, just really wanted to do this one.]
