(1866-12-08) A Catlord and a Ferret Walk Into a Bar
A Catlord and a Ferret Walk Into a Bar
Summary: Emilia and Naois encounter Leander and his catlord companion Fritti the morning after the Sunsreach Free-For-All
Date: 12-08-1866
Related: Sunsreach Tourney Free-For-All
Emilia  Leander  

The Golden Dragon Inn
In Scene Set
8th of Decembre, 1866

The air to the city remained in a festive air with the Royal wedding not long past, as well as the Harvest festival, and now another surge of energy came with the tournament having begun. The city was still full to the brim with people..even if perhaps not quite as full as the days preceding the wedding.

The Golden Dragon Inn continued to see brisk business and was never truly empty. Though least it was quieter and not quite so crowded and boisterous in the morning hours. Most perhaps still sleeping off their hangovers from whatever celebrations they had partaken the night before. A few people were settled at tables and breaking their morning fast. The faint murmur of conversation touching the air, occasionally a word to be caught here or there if one truly took to listening.

At one of the tables nearer the back, the section generally taken up by nobility and their like sits a young woman in Huntress leathers, her dark brown hair is in a loose braid with the end draped over her shoulder. There rather stoic and somewhat solemn bent to her expression marking her likely to be a Cassomir and not quite the common Huntress she is dressed as. A hand little flutters through the are like butterfly drifting between flower blossoms….save there is a tiny bit of meat held just so between her fingers and the target is a silvery ferret with black tipped ears. And how his nose twitches at Emilia’s fingers. Rising up upon his hind legs to try and thief away the tasty morsel away.


The door to the Dragon opens, and in steps what appears to be a younger man. Clad in a surcoat of white, with gold and blue accents. If it wasn’t for the colors of the ensemble, merely the man’s countenance would demark him as a Giraldi, for it seems all of the recently up-jumped young nobles were blessed with the genetic disposition inherited from their mother. Without helm or armor, he appears somewhat slender…more wiry and graceful than the usual stockiness of a typical knight.

As for which Giraldi….well, it would appear that this is the younger brother, Leander. Though, no word is spoken, immediately. The tell-tale sign of this being the younger of the two is the bright red and purple welt encompassing the lord’s throat, wrapping about his entire neck, a present given to him by the Couvieri champion during the free for all. At least, his face is unmarred. And yet, there is one other distinguishing characteristic that separates the younger from the elder brother. A feline form sits upon Leander’s left shoulder, lounging with bright yellow eyes peering out before it. A long, grey tail curls about the back of Leander’s neck, in an almost possessive manner, while pointed ears perk up, listening to the early morning crowd.

The knight, with a mere whisper of a voice, murmurs a short exchange to the innkeeper. The fellow turns for a moment, stepping away, then returns with a glass, a bowl, and a carafe filled with some liquid of some sort. Money is exchanged, then the knight and his feline companion step away from the front, heading to the back tables. As the two pass by a certain Cassomir and her animal familiar, both sets of eyes regard the two. Almost an identical manner, both rather curious, yet seemingly not. A cat’s curiosity. The two choose a table slightly behind and to the right of Emilia and her Naois, upon which the bowl, glass, and carafe is set upon. Leander descends into his chair, gingerly, while his own animal companion walks down his arm onto the table. With an expectant gaze, the catlord (for those that can identify one at sight) flickers her gaze to Leander and utters a petulant meow. With a short (and ragged) laugh, Leander mutters softly. “Alright, Fritti.” He takes the carafe…and pours first into the bowl, then into his glass.

Fritti, the catlord, then nods once, as if approving, and steps forward to break her fast….with a bowl filled partly with the milk that Leander had purchased, while a hand reaches over to stroke along her back quietly.


It seems the ferret is the first to notice the new comers….least outwardly…and it appears Naois’ attention is namely occupied with the catlord. He lowers himself slowly as eyes settle upon that grey feline. A twitch of his nose as the progress of the shoulder lounging animal is observed. And once there is progress made toward the table he is upon, Naois makes a bit of a hop towards Emilia and scampers on up her arm and about her shoulders. Ducking himself under her braid coming to peer out from under it upon her other shoulder. The creature long since outgrown the ability to fully hide underneath that hair…but it seems a place of ‘safety’ all the same as he now looks over to the other table with the milk being poured out. Making several ‘churrring’ sounds from his new perch.

It is the drift of Emilia’s hand that is the first outward clue of her awareness to what was to progress, an airy grace touching even that small movement as her hand had taken position to allow Naois an easy path up her arm. The hand with the bit of meat having fluttered back down to the table when the ferret had sat back done, much like a leaf taking its time to settle to the ground on a windless day.

Those dark brown eyes drifting up as the pair make their way by, a certain unreadability in the stoic turn her expression holds. Not even a flicker of a smile being offered along to the Giraldi, but then nor is there a scowl..Both likely common enough reactions for the younger Giraldi to experience. If anything, one might call it stoic indifference. Even if Emilia is inwardly curious to see him about so soon, the hit that had caused that colorful welting about his neck had been quite something to behold. Surely if the blades had not been blunted…well his pretty head would not yet be attached. Her own table has a small plate with a few pieces of fruit yet and a small slice of meat, the source for the bit Naois had been teased with not but moments ago.

A hand comes up and over that shoulder to give Naois a light stroke upon his head as he continues to perch and keep an eye upon the Catlord and her companion. Emilia says lightly,”Come of now, it is not going to be of eating you, of look there is more of interest in of the bowl than of you.” Odd of her to note perhaps, since they had taken seat behind her. This produces a ‘chirr’ from Naois in response. His nose twitching as he does not seem entirely sure that is the case. What if it were just a trap!?!


A tail rather lazily twitches behind Fritti, as the catlord (or is it catlady?) leans down to partake of the milk in the bowl. As for the knight….he slowly takes his glass and drinks his milk in turn. For those observant enough to see, it is a most peculiar event. Both human and feline drink…at the same time. They pause together and drink together. It…isn’t some sort of coincidence, either…for it seems too well-timed. As if this is something that the two has done quite often.

As the two drink in unison, the brown eyes of the Giraldi shift, regarding the ferret with a casual interest. It’s the same look as was given as they passed. Only…this one lingers more, as a slow curl of the lip turn upwards signifies Leander’s mood. He is amused at the antics of the ferret. Of course, it doesn’t hurt matters at all that the shoulder upon which Naois sits upon is attached to an attractive noblewoman. Though, Leander doesn’t speak. Truth be told, it rather hurts to attempt, for the moment. So…he remains content to sit, for now.

The milk in glass and bowl is finished, nearly at the same time. With a soft chuckle, Leander reaches down to stroke Fritti, the eyes of the two companions locking for a moment. There is just the slightest of nods over towards the table with woman and ferret companion, then an unspoken exchange, as the catlord simply pads over to the opposite side of the bowl, placing it between her and the other table. Leander pours a bit of milk into the bowl once more…but none in his own glass, then slides the bowl over gently, putting more distance between it and the feline. Then, a glance to the ferret, and a silent offering of the bowl. Do ferrets even drink milk? It is certain that Leander does not know…but he is offering, nonetheless. As is Fritti, for it was obvious that the little exchange between the two was permission asked for and granted…though, it is uncertain as to who was asking.

Would the ferret take the opportunity? It appears that there is no trap. Just an invitation freely given.


There are a few about the inn that make note of the odd synchronous drinking between the Lord and his cat, even if only one or so may pay true enough attention to just how in sync they are throughout. Practiced or simply just that in tune with one another? Or just downright odd…Certainly questions that might go through the minds of some. Or in the case of Naois, is that cat going to try and eat me when it is done?

For the ferret does watch the pair as the milk is drank, his nose giving a slight twitch after the first few drinks. His little ears turning at the sounds in the bar, even if one seems to remain trained upon the pair in question. An almost chiding little chirring occurring when Emilia’s fingers reach to give him another little stroke along his head. A thing that seems to cause a slight tugging at the corner of her lips. Murmuring just lightly,”Of course, did not mean to be breaking your of consideration.”

The invitation extended does have Naois sniffing in the direction of the bowl..oh so far away. Then in Fritti’s direction, a long studying coming before there is another twitch of his nose before he slowly takes to slinking out from under that braid and down Emilia’s shoulder. Her arm slowly moving to allow him a path down, her hand turning just slightly and coming to serve as a slight platform for him to hop from and onto the floor. He stays by her chair a moment as the air is snuffed at, another look at the offered bowl..or really more the table from his current vantage point. Before he makes over to the table with Leander and Fritti with his odd little gait. Half-walk, half-hop.

Reaching a first empty chair, Naois scuttles h is way on up. That little pink nose first appearing over the top of the table before the rest of his muzzle and head appear. His little paws grabbing hold of the table's edge as he peers over the top of it, and it is to Fritti he looks. A twitch of an ear, a look perhaps still not fully certain it wasn’t a trap. Though there is a small little chur as he seems to request permission himself to come ‘aboard’ the table. Whom he is asking is rather clear…Fritti.

As Naois makes his progress between the tables, Emilia shifts within her chair, rather silently. Her dark eyes following her four legged friend in his venture. A very slight approving nod at his use of ‘manners’, after all it would not due to simply invade a table without some proper exchange, even when invited.


Yellow eyes shift from the ferret asking permission to join the table towards the human sitting there, the vertical slitted pupils regarding the knight with an almost detached air. The slight nod from Leander indicates his approval…but it is still up to the Catlord to pass judgement. With a particularly lazy sweep of the tail, Fritti regards the chirring for a brief moment, then turns away, completely disinterested in the rodent. A good enough indication of permission granted as any from the feline. Clearly, Fritti is showing that she is rather full for the moment…and totally at all not even considering the notion that Naois would be edible by any means.

A short laugh escapes from Leander, which only earns him an even shorter and sharper wince, as a hand reaches out to stroke Fritti rather calmly, reflecting the same sort of lackadaisical grace as the feline displays. They really are two of a kind, it seems. While one hand strokes, the other extends out, once more, to the bowl. It is clear that both human and catlord have given their permission for the ferret to partake of the goat’s milk now. It is just a matter for the little ferret lord to actually take advantage of the situation now.

A sideward glance is cast over, once more, to the female companion of the little ferret lord. A ghost of a grin, the corners of the lips just curled enough to show that yes, the Giraldi is indeed smiling, is given to Emilia. Again, the slightest of nods is given, barely visible, as the knight offers his own greetings.


Naois watches the exchange between catlord and Lord with a certain attentiveness, even if the feline gets the bulk of his attention. When Fritti turns away completely with that air of indifference to the whole matter now, Naois does finally pull himself up to the tabletop with an added little hop. Ambling over to the bowl, a ferret’s walk just always seemed a bit whimsical. A few little sniffs given as his nose twitches before a taste is taken, those little ears staying quite at attention with a slight turn here or there to catch some sound within the inn. Though that laugh from Leander had both ears firmly trained upon him for a few moments.

It also had those dark eyes belonging to the young woman settling upon Leader. Though just what thoughts might exist in that head were well hidden behind that stoic mien. A pleasant enough face to look at by most standards, just far too solemn for one her age. The smile her way has the corners of her own lips giving a slight upwards tug, an odd flickering hint of a smile. Emilia giving a slight incline of her head to return the greeting.

And it would seem enough to have her finally moving to follow after her little companion, though her movements are rather different from his. For while there is an edge of comicalness to Naois, hers are entirely graceful. But while Leander himself seems feline in his own movements, there is an ethereal and unearthly edge to Emilia that is more faelike than feline. An effortless turn of her hand to the empty chair once to the table, a silent request. Perhaps a turn of courtesy in that and allowing him to not have to endure the pain of speaking with the damage to his neck.


Just as silently, a solitary dip of the head is given, indicating consent. The smile upon the feline-esque lord widens just a touch, as the fingertips stroking the dark grey companion pause long enough to shift and indicate the same seat. Truly an invitation from the Giraldi, if the nod was not an obvious enough indication.

The ceasing of the petting causes Fritti to shift, her head swiveling to determine who would be audacious enough to interrupt her receiving of affection. Among viewing that it is the young Cassomir lady, the grey catlord actually rises, and walks over towards that empty chair…giving Naois a wide berth as to not offend his delicate sensibilities. Perhaps the cat is curious, for Fritti strides over and then sits, attentively, at the spot on the table before the chair, awaiting the arrival of Emilia with patient anticipation.

The exchange no doubt surprises Leander, though his only indication is the widening of the eyes. The little ferret lord, for his part, swivels around the bowl, closer to Leander but keeping an eye upon mistress and feline. To the untrained eye, it looks very much like the two just traded companions.


A gentle incline of the head answers the dip of Leander’s head. An acceptance and thanks for the invitation given. The corners of Emilia’s lips tugging upwards a hint, some indication of a smile it would seem from the rather stoic looking young woman.

If she is surprised by the exchange that seems to occur of companions, it does not seem to show. And likely, Emilia is not surprised that Naois shifts to be able to keep an eye upon the Catlord. When one has nearly been eaten before, it is just good practice to keep an eye upon possible predators.

As Emilia settles into the chair, a incline of her head is offered to the awaiting feline, along with a gently intoned,”Of hello.” Her hand rising with that airy bit of grace, settling in the air just before Fritti. A silent offer to allow her scent to be taken and perhaps some petting should she be deemed acceptable by the feline. Her own dark brown eyes looking up to Leander briefly before drifting back to Fritti.


A slight smile is returned with a smile from the knight. Brown eyes reflect the interest that the expression seems to manage to keep at bay. Here is a lovely woman, coming to sit with Leander…and damn his luck…he can’t manage anything above a murmur without wincing. Nevertheless, that interest is kept, as Emilia joins him. And…as Fritti joins her, that interest shifts to include the feline, as well. It…isn’t often that his furry companion takes to others so quickly. The intrigue is apparent…the raised eyebrow signaling the mild surprise. And a touch wider smile.

Fritti, for her part, sits with patient grace as Emilia sits. The vocal greeting is returned with a soft mewling, as the catlord then stands, taking in the scent of the fae-like beauty that sits before her. One sniff with the nostrils…then two. Then, with the calm insistence that only cats are capable of, the head lifts up, nudging the slender fingertips to stroke the dark grey fur. That…earns another slightly perplexed look from Leander. With a shake of his head, there is a low chuckle as he finally speaks. The voice is rough, and barely audible…but the words are clear and concise, as if given to ensure he will not have to repeat them.

“Fritti likes you.”


There is a flicker of curiosity that comes within those dark brown eyes, even if the rest of Emilia’s features remain firmly stoic, as Fritti takes to giving her fingers a sniff. holding them perfectly still for the feline in those few moments. The corners of her lips tugging up just slightly when there is that calm insistence making that ‘subtle’ demand for a petting. A thing Emilia does acquiesce to as those finger tips lightly stroke over that dark grey fur with a mild turn of an ear scritch offered as well for the feline. Seems the young woman is not unfamiliar with what felines might enjoy.

Her dark eyes turning up from the cat as that chuckle comes from the young lord, before dropping back to the feline,”Fritti is of it? A pleasure to be of meeting.” That gaze coming up as she does offer a faint incline of her head,”And to you as of well, Sir of Leander.” Emilia offering in turn,”I am of being Emilia of Cassomir.” Not assuming he is at all familiar with whom she might be, though she seems aware of him. And the reason explained,”You managed of well the other of day, even with the of attempt to…” Her hand giving that small flutter at his neck, that rather crazy hit that did make one glad for blunted blades. Of course, her free hand as that other keeps to the light stroking of Fritt. “But of aye, she does seem to not mind of me.” That odd little cadance existing within Emilia’s speech, even if the tone itself is gentle and certainly not unpleasant.

Naois’ ears lightly turn at hearing Emilia’s voice, the occasional flicker towards some other sound in the inn. His eyes keeping watch out while he takes a drink of the milk in between curious sniffs. Alert and not entirely greedy it would seem, as he isn’t just slurping up the milk.


“She….does not take to others….so quickly. You are…special indeed. Emilia of Cassomir” The pauses are in place only because it does look like speaking is not comfortable, for now, at least. The voice, albeit coarse now, has the undertones of a charmer….the words would have been warm and inviting in that baritone. The blunted sword strike across his throat is a more vibrant color than his ensemble…a simple white, which does nothing but draw attention to the rather interesting shades of red, purple, and a little yellow upon his neck. At least…he tries to make a conscious attempt to make it less noticeable…but fails. As to the Free For All, there is a exclamation of disgust, as Leander’s face twists for the briefest of moments into one of displeasure. “I….could have done….better.”

“Surprised…you would speak to me.” The statement comes after a moment to compose himself, the knight deigning to lean back and at least attempt to hold a conversation. “Not many would do such a thing, considering.” Surely he is referring to his upjumped status. Leander would be much too smart to bring up rumours of his reputation. Just as he is too smart to inquire about the manner of speech, or the little nuances he might have heard about a ‘touched’ Cassomir. Touched…and not in the sense Leander is used to. “Not….that I mind. I find….that breakfast is best…when the time is shared with another.” Especially one as lovely as Emilia. The thought is there…but unspoken. Leander certainly has no qualms with the visitation.

There is a nod towards Emilia’s own furry companion, the ferret with the impeccable manners. “Very well behaved….this one is. Asking for permission. Watching over you. Much like Fritti. It seems you have a way with animals.” Maybe Emilia does…maybe not. But…it is an avenue of conversation. And Leander is going to pursue it, even if it is only for him to listen to the lilting speech some more.


Such news does have Emilia's gaze drifting back to the feline,"Is that of so?" Asking Fritti perhaps more than Leander it would seem. Those fingers of hers continuing the light strokes as attention is yet given easily to the feline. Added attention not outwardly being given to that colorful display about his neck, though it was a thing Emilia had taken full measure of. The impact to his speaking unmistakable. And it did offer quite the study in color, especially against the white. The show of disgust has Emilia's head canting just a little,"As it was Sir of Gabriel who was of leaving of that of mark," the previous years Circuit Champion at that,"I am of thinking you managed of well. And had of chance to be of learning in of the dance with of him. We are all of having of days where we could have been doing of better. I have been of finding, it is of best not to of linger upon of such moments for over of long, miss out of to of much if caught of up in to much lingering for of long."

The slight lifting of a brow is all the indication that comes to what Emilia might be thinking to the comment speaking of his surprise. Eventually there is a small incline of her head,"Of true, many would of not." Whether because of his upjumped status, or general reputation surrounding his family, or both…Smart enough not to voice either. Nor Emilia does not make some contrived effort to disagree, as some might when trying to gain favor. Fingers give a minor flutter ever so briefly in the air (of course, the free hand, not the one busy dancing affection upon Fritti),"But of then, most do not much of bother to speak with of me." Even if more were 'bothering' with it given her brother's recent marriage, and then it was more of like being talked at then with. There is just a little tug to the corners of Emilia's lips as she dips her head towards the dark grey feline,"I am of thinking though, Fritti has of decided we are not of being of the many or of the most, of aye?" There might just be a flicker of curiosity, even surprise in those dark brown eyes…when he says he does not mind it. "Breakfast is of often best when of shared with another," comes the simply agreement upon that matter.

"His name is Naois," offers Emilia when the avenue of conversation drifts to her ferret companion. The lithe creature lifting his head up at the sound of his name, a twitch of his nose. "He is of being of much of a scamp at of times, especially if something is of catching his eye. Usually something that is being of shiny. But he does of behave when he should, especially at of the table." There is a slight pause before Emilia divulges with just a faint hint of a smile,"He is even of having his own chair at of home. Mine-sister had one of made that is being of just the right size for him." That free hand dancing briefly into the air to indicate the size of said chair. "I am not of sure I am having much of way with animals, but he is of minding of me as does of Onyie, and Onyie is rarely of minding of any of one." Adding after a beat to explain,"Onyie is being of my horse." And while Emilia is certainly conversing with Leander, there is a occasionally that mild turn of her gaze to Fritti as if including the feline within the conversation as well.


“Eh. You sound like my brother, Lady Cassomir.” The comment from the Giraldi is not said in scorn…but rather amusement. “He said I should be glad for such a trophy. Though….his reasons…are his own. I…shan't share them.” Mainly because the healthy purple welt would gain sympathy, his brother might say….sympathy that might gain Leander more than just simple (but welcomed) conversation from the stoic Emilia, with her furry companion. Still…the thought was there, though Leander is leastwise smart enough to not mention it.

Nor does he miss the fact that Emilia glossed over the reasons most of the older nobility use to avoid him. Recent ennoblement and indeed, his family’s reputation. It does bring a slight smile to the young lord’s face, as he returns the sentiment. “Indeed. I find….that Fritti is an excellent….judge of character. And that those….she finds interest in….are truly unique individuals, worthy of….our undivided attention.” It is true. Leander hasn’t bothered to shift his gaze or disengage interest since Fritti approached Emilia. “As you can imagine….Fritti’s tastes are quite refined. Being separate from the many and the most…is a noble thing. More noble than most of those that believe themselves to be.” That…is somewhat revealing. It shows just how much he respects his own furry companion, giving a hint at the level of trust between the two.

Brown eyes shift towards the ferret as Leander speaks the name offered by Emilia. “Naois. A….charming rogue, it seems. Behaved when it suits him, unless something draws his attention?” A short laugh, deeper than it should be, escapes from the Giraldi. “Sounds like someone I know.” No doubt an individual sitting at the table….in the very seat Leander now occupies. “You…do well with such free spirits.”


There is a small cant to Emilia’s head when it is said she sounds like…Raimond. Though no outward offense seems to be taken, but then likely any who would truly be so offended likely would not be sitting there and speaking with the younger Giraldi brother. “Some are being much of proud of such trophies. And in having of many brothers I can perhaps be of imagining reasons he might be of having.” There is just a faint tugging at the corners of her lips. And with all of those brothers being knights, really Emilia did have a fair idea.

Dark eyes settle back to Fritti,”You are not of wrong. I am being of unique.” A thing that is said rather simply without hint of jest or smugness to it. Simply a thing that is and there is nothing she can do about it. Granted, with having had a being such as the Last say it is so, it can be a startling and humbling ‘fact’ that is hard to argue against. “Though…I do not suppose I am being of the one to judge if I am of worthy of such undivided of attention or of not. But if I have not perhaps of bored you of already, that is being of a start.” Emilia’s gaze drawing back up from the noble feline to indicate both it would seem by that ‘you’. Her head tilts just a little, a brief study given of the lordling across from her, noting simply,”Being of a noble and being of noble, sometimes of being entirely of different of things.”

The little scamp does look over towards Leander when the lord speaks his name. Though the ferret remains behind the bowl, a small twitch of his nose before a paw rise and he works at cleaning his muzzle a bit, having finished with the milk that had been poured for him. “Of aye, he is being of so.” Emilia nods a little,”It is seeming of so….But is of perhaps because I am understanding of them in of ways most do not.” Odd perhaps, considering how stoic the young woman seems to be herself. Those fingers of her continuing with the light dance of attendance upon Fritti, even the simple stroking seeming to have a bit of faelike grace within it.


“Indeed. You have not bored… either of us already. A very good start, I would wager.” The commentary of nobility receives a nod from Leander, a response showing that he is in agreement to that sentiment. “I would imagine that…if I am not an appropriate judge of worthiness…Fritti is.” Leander watches his catlord companion with a grin…then shifts to regard Naois. “It does help to know….how they think. I…have that…with Fritti. Or…she has that…with me. I…didn’t bother…to question it much.” Again…another sly little grin from him. “I…only assumed….that your Naois would enjoy a drink. Which…he seems to have.”

There isn’t an offer from Leander to pet Naois. Even Leander has limits, contrary to what his reputation might seem. And….he doesn’t make any passes on Emilia…nor does he attempt to infringe on the tenuous trust between him and the ferret. So, he remains seated, his own fingers reaching out to stroke Fritti. The two hands never touch…but join in one action. As the two pet the feline…a rather unique sound is heard from Leander. Gratitude. “Thank you. For the company. We….both appreciate it.”


“I am of glad that I have not been of boring to either of you.” The One knows, Emilia has probably put off others in such a short span of time before, even if not exactly having bored them. Dark eyes gently settling upon the grey feline,”It is of said that animals are oft a better judge of character then we are of being…and particularly catlords are of much of particular about of the company they are of keeping.” There was a flicker of curious thought in Emilia’s eyes for a moment in that look to Fritti. “Of aye,” her attention flitting back to the lordling,”he does of enjoy a spot of milk now and again. It is of rare he is passing up of such an offering.” Greedy little ferret!

Naois seems quite content with being left out of the petting, for now. Doing a mild turn of cleaning to his muzzle from behind that bowl. If Emilia is surprised about the lack of passes being made given the reputation surrounding the young Lord (and others of his family), it does not seem to show. Then perhaps it was simply expected that she was not one anyone really made a pass at, given her own ‘reputation’ of being ‘touched’. When Leander joins in with the petting, Emilia’s hand simply continues with the turn of attention being given (spoiled catlord!), rather than seeking to withdraw as some might. The unique sounds does have Emilia’s head canting just a little before there is a little incline of her head,”I have been of glad to have been of meeting you of both and keeping of company with.” Words that does seem to be rather genuine. “Though I should perhaps be of returning of myself before they begin to of think I have become of lost amongst the tournament of crowds.”


“Fare thee…well then, Emilia of Cassomir. May you find your way…through the crowds safely to your desired destination.” The odd cadence to Leander’s own voice seems to be dissipating…though still present enough to indicate that yes, trophy though it may be, that welt is not a completely welcomed addition. At Leander’s words, Fritti stands up. She gives Emilia’s fingers one final nudge with her head, in departure, then turns to return to her own companion. In crossing, the feline turns her head and regards Naois intently….the eyes narrowing upon the little ferret lord. There might have been a growl…or more perhaps a purring. Nevertheless…with the glare from the cat and the sound emanating from her throat, it is enough to cause the skittish little ferret to flee from the bowl, scampering up Emilia’s arm to hide upon her shoulder.

Should the fae beauty listen, as Emilia departs, she might hear a rather unique sound from the catlord, even as Leander tsks softly at his own companion. For, as Fritti takes her own place upon the knight’s shoulder, there is a slight variation in that purring….a sort of chuckling mewing, before the purring resumes. If one didn’t know any better…it would seem that the catlord was laughing at poor Naois, only teasing him gently for her own benefit.

And, judging from the feline smiles upon both catlord and human lord, that is exactly the case.

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