It has, Puck reflects, been an all right sort of four months, considering he spent them in Satan's thrall. Not as bad as it's made out to be, Satan's thrall. Remarkably hands-off
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The cat sitting in front of Puck isn't moving, either, except to blink now and again and to ruffle her midnight-dark fur or to tap her tail lightly around herself at her front paws.
Nor does she look entirely inclined to move, though the table she's sitting on is likely not as comfortable as the couch nearby is.
The cat is probably not a terribly interesting promise of recreation.
The young man she accompanies, however, isn't sitting terribly far away.
That isn't Kirjava, despite her expression of mild disbelief. It's Will--who hasn't quite turned around, yet, and who is paying quite a lot of attention to a book which he hasn't really been reading for the past few minutes.
The book is laid aside, and Kirjava leaps off the table to pad silently over to Will to occupy the vacancy left on his lap. His hand--the left, the one missing two fingers--rests gently on her back, where her fur is standing slightly on end.
Nor does she look entirely inclined to move, though the table she's sitting on is likely not as comfortable as the couch nearby is.
The cat is probably not a terribly interesting promise of recreation.
The young man she accompanies, however, isn't sitting terribly far away.
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And the young man, too, though it seems aloof, almost like an afterthought.
Possibly this is teasing.
"Do my eyes deceive?"
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He also says nothing. Possibly this is stubborness.
"Hullo," Kirjava says instead, turning her wide yellow eyes back on Puck. Happily: "It's nice to see you."
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"'Tis an unlooked-for delight, Kirjava dearest. I had wondered when our paths might cross again."
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Will, from his seat in the couch, continues to say nothing, but the pages of the book in his lap have stopped turning.
Her tail flicking and her eyes unblinking, Kirjava pays him no attention whatsoever.
"You haven't been here, either," she says, a little accusingly.
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"Well, I have been rather tied down, of late," he admits.
Still speaking to Kirjava; but his eyes are on Will.
"I simply couldn't get away."
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That isn't Kirjava, despite her expression of mild disbelief. It's Will--who hasn't quite turned around, yet, and who is paying quite a lot of attention to a book which he hasn't really been reading for the past few minutes.
"How irritating."
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"Well, well," he says cheerily, "there you are, Master Will. What an utter surprise."
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Will, turning partially in his seat, has an expression hovering between resignation and amusement. Kirjava looks pleased.
He watches his companion for a moment, steadily, from under straight black brows.
"It is good to see you." Straight-forward, and nothing like an apology; still, Will means it.
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"I am most gratified to hear it."
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The book on his lap closes with a soft thud.
"I hope you've everything cleared up now, then."
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A bright smile for them both.
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Will frowns, a little, and Kirjava's ears lay back against her head for a brief second.
"I hadn't thought it possible for you to be caught by someone."
The words aren't quite what he means, but they serve.
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"You flatter me, Will. I am, unfortunately, not quite so slippery as all that."
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"I'm sorry," simply.
"But you're free of it--him--now?"
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Puck's gaze drifts briefly to Will's hand. Then he shrugs, seeming to shake it off.
Shaking something off, anyway.
He sighs, disappearing abruptly, and blinks back into view behind the couch, which he proceeds to slump against.
Mmm, upholstery.
"And how have the two of you fared through our long separation?"
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