#puck looking at this little kitty: (weeping) Mmmy ssonn..... iii will take care of yuo i swe.ar.....

[bloodtwin]

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Anonymous sent: Myshka can tell he has Puck wrapped around his tiny paws. Good. He will have no shortage of kisses now, that's for sure. But maybe just in case....he should roll over and start playing with the shiny thing on Puck's boot. No harm in double checking his territory is certain...cats are the real masters of the realms, after all. Praise Sharess....

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Wrapped around his tiny paws, indeed. Puck tries so very hard to be on his best behavior, to avoid dangerous situations for others ( especially of the small & vulnerable variety ) ; he knows the easiest & most logical way to do this is to steer clear of them, but at the end of the day . . . The poor bastard is a real sucker.

He's like a magnet for those whose entire being practically screams ❝ HI ！I'M SOOO SMALL & SOOO VULNERABLE RIGHT NOW ！！SOOO KILLABLE ！！！❞ as they proceed to cozy up next to him, all of their weak points exposed to him at once. The problem is, he adores this. He's oh-so-fond of little critters. This affection seems to be hard-coded in his DNA. He has the desire to pinch their cheeks, hold them close to his chest, tuck them away in his pocket, keep them SAFE. He's always had the instinct to protect, even when he knows someone is fully capable of protecting themselves. Probably as a way to atone for his other, less chivalrous instincts.

So, of course he's become IRREPARABLY ENAMORED with Myshka, who is so soft & sweet & needy. The feline cares nothing for what he's done in the past, feels no fear when he enters the room, and unabashedly demands all of his company & attention. Looks to him to be taken care of. Puck's favorite activity of late is lying down in his bed upon returning to the Elfsong Tavern for the evening, Myshka at his heels immediately before leaping up to curl into a ball on his chest or his stomach. The warm, gentle weight of his fluffy body & the rumble of his contented purr do wonders for the restless pounding of Puck's heart, soothing it to a slow, steady beat. If only for a while.

It's like a dream, like everything Puck secretly yearns for but can't have. Someone to love without worry. Myshka represents something important to him, something he must cling to for his own sanity. A hope for the future. A future where he can have this because he has it NOW. He does not know what will happen to him before this adventure is over. Knowing himself, knowing what must be done, he finds his chance of survival rather slim. But, if that is the case, at the very least he had Myshka to cherish. He had the most wonderful reminder that he can be kind & he can be good.

Naturally, because of all of this, the SHEER PANIC Puck feels when Myshka paws at his boots is BEYOND ANY AVERAGE MORTAL ENCOUNTER WITH FEAR. A horrified yelp escapes from the very pits of his stomach that violently churns. He's quick to snatch the cat from the ground, his hold on him tighter than usual ( not too tight, not too tight, don't squeeze him, mind your claws, ARE YOU MINDING YOUR CLAWS ？！) as he draws him closer to the crook of his neck & AWAY FROM HIS BOOTS WITH THE BOTTOMLESS PITS OF KNIVES.

❝ NO ！❞ Deep breath, deep breath. Puck tries to steady his voice, pretends he isn't shaking like a Chihuahua. ❝ L- let's not play with mommy's stomping boots. They're not very safe for curious kitties. How about we, um . . . Oh ！Let's ask Babette if she has a spare ball of yarn for you, all right  ？❞