(Untitled)

[almost_arabian]

Lawrence is, at the moment, settled down with his arms behind his neck on the grass next to the lake

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[not_one_drop]

Orion wanders up, quiet as ever, to sniff thoughtfully at Lawrence's torso.

And then leap on it. Because, y'know, he's a cat.

[almost_arabian]

To his credit, Lawrence doesn't startle.

He simply sighs and closes his eyes again once Orion has settled on his chest.

[not_one_drop]

"Mrow?"

Creeps up a bit further and stares down Lawrence's nose.

[almost_arabian]

Lawrence sighs, opening his eyes to stare back at the cat.

"I don't at all mind you sitting, but might you be a bit quieter?"

[not_one_drop]

Orion considers this.

And promptly licks the end of the nose.

[almost_arabian]

He gets eyes rolled at him.

"Yes? I haven't got any fish, or whatever you might be looking for." He does reach a hand up to scritch Orion's neck.

[not_one_drop]

Company.

That's what he's looking for. And someone to play with him, of course. Bats at Lawrence's cheek.

[almost_arabian]

"This is why I don't have pets. Always interrupting my lounging."

He sits up and then carefully pets his fingers through Orion's fur. "I'm not very good at cat-play."

[not_one_drop]

Lounging, pah.

Orion rubs enthusiastically on the hands, batting at the rolled-up shirt. Chasing things. Chasing things is fun.

[almost_arabian]

"And where is your mistress? Hanging in the shadows, I suspect." He scritches underneath Orion's chin.

Truth be told, he's worried about Mal.

[not_one_drop]

She's in a tree.

To be exact, in a tree about fifty feet away, curled up in a little ball and trying to sleep.

Orion just purrs. She's been all odd, and he hasn't been petted, and now he's sulky. Bah.

[almost_arabian]

He can tell when a cat's been neglected, oddly enough. He sits up so that Orion can settle into his lap properly, and rakes his fingers across the cat's ears.

A quick glance around suggests she's in the shrubbery.

[not_one_drop]

Possibly.

There's a faint noise from one of the neighboring trees, and Orion sits up, pricking his ears.

[almost_arabian]

He picks up Orion and walks over to the base of the tree, glancing up.

His free hand may be on his pistol. It's habit.

[not_one_drop]

She's not going anywhere.

A few branches have cris-crossed in such a way that she can lie flat on them without worrying that she'll fall, and that's exactly what she's done.

And is in as small a ball as she can make herself.

[almost_arabian]

He pokes his head up so that he can get a better look.

"Mal?" He's still holding Orion.