(Untitled)

[no_justice]

There is a litter of kittens on a table, most of which are so tiny that their eyes haven't opened yet. They're forming a soft, mewing pile of fur, looking for the warmth of a mother that isn't there

Comments

[ostro_goth]

Teja is not the sort of man to utter a sentiment best expressed by 'Awwww' aloud; but he stands by a nearby pillar, casually, tea cup in hand, and watches the very small animals.

The Goth king does like cats, also.-

[[OOC: This is not one of the baited, but I hope tagging is all right nevertheless?]]

[no_justice]

[OOC: of course it is!]

Cootchie cootchie coo, says Death.

Not to Teja, of course. That would be weird.

[ostro_goth]

"They are such sweet creatures," Teja finally says, having watched the kittens for quite a while.

[no_justice]

Yes, Death says. They are. It makes me angry.

There's a damp sack at his feet.

[ostro_goth]

Damp sack. Kittens on a table. A skeleton that professes to be angry.

A skeleton. Death, personified.

Teja understands. And sighs.

"Someone killed them; that makes me sad. They shall never be grown cats?"

[no_justice]

No, Death says. Although they certainly look alive; must be the Milliways thing.

Sometimes I really don't like humanity.

[ostro_goth]

"I often do not, even though I was human," Teja says. He steps to the table and picks up a kitten, gently, stroking the fluffy fur.

"Dead, as I am!"

[no_justice]

Not yet. Death means the kittens. By bringing them here I have given them extra time.

He's such a sentimental sap.

[ostro_goth]

"If they were but a little bit older, and able to walk, and eat food, and drink milk from a proper bowl," Teja says, "I would as to keep one! But it would be wrong, somehow, to keep a tiny kitten that would never be more than that. Where will you take them from here?"

[no_justice]

Where they go is not for me to know.

Death is contemplative for a while, then says,

If you never go to my world, one may go with you.

[ostro_goth]

"Would it grow?" Teja asks. "At least enough to open its eyes, run around, and explore the world on its own?"

Keeping a cat a helpless baby forever feels wrong, even though Teja is quite willing to raise a kitten for a while, if it grows enough to become its own cat, at least.

[no_justice]

After a pause:

Yes, Death concedes. This can be arranged. If you will care for it.

[ostro_goth]

"Yes, I will care for it," Teja says, "and keep it by me while it is little, and feed it milk every few hours, and give it all it needs. The forge cats, one assumes, will teach it what cats need to know and men cannot tell them."

[no_justice]

Cats can do that, Death agrees. He turns his head to the kittens. Who would like to go with this man?

[ostro_goth]

Teja had put the kitten he'd picked up down again; and now, his hand rests on the table again as he looks at the kittens, wondering how one of them would say 'Me, please!'

A tiny pale grey tabby, a male, with newly opened eyes still very blue, and barely able to wiggle about a little, reaches out to put a tiny paw on Teja's finger, tiny, tiny soft claws drawing no more than a pinprick of blood.

"That would be him, one assumes," Teja says.

Pause.

"Which is your world, so I may make sure I never go there?"

[no_justice]

The Discworld, says Death. His life there is over.