Massive multipup sick-day post

[ostro_goth]

They're all there:

• Teja, in the forge, sharpening a sahs;
• Ragnar, by the stables, feeding the goats;
• Father Harman, on the steps of Javert's little church, taking out wilted flowers;
• Hannibal Lecter, in the herb garden by the kitchen's back door, picking basil;
• Galen Erso, by the door of the greenhouse, sorting through a mess of crystals and wires;
• Lady Margolotta, in the darkest corner of the bar, knitting baby shoes.

Comments

[mogget_cat]

Yrael eventually semi-sorta re-solidifies, coming back to himself. There may have been a catnap in there somewhere. He contentedly licks the last of the catnip scent from Hannibal's fingers with a rough, pink tongue.

[cook_the_rude]

"Hello, my friend," Hannibal says. "Ready for sushi now?"

[mogget_cat]

"I believe so," Yrael replies, lightly headbutting the fingers once more, for good measure. "You are making this an afternoon of delights, my friend."

[cook_the_rude]

"That is what I enjoy most," Hannibal says. "Delighting my friends."

[mogget_cat]

"You make an art of it," purrs the not'cat.

But also sushi.

The cat twists a bit in Hannibal's arms to get it's paws underneath it again, and lets itself drop down lightly onto the garden path.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal stands, and then plucks just a few sprigs of catnip. "I wonder what fish goes best with this," he muses. "Light and white and fresh, I think?"

[mogget_cat]

The not'cat winds lightly about his ankle. "That sounds perfect. Nothing so strongly flavored."

Catnip is a strong flavor by itself.

[cook_the_rude]

"Then let us!"