[ Astarion wrinkles his nose. He's a high elf through and through, supercilious and pompous, and he'll never be the friend to all animals that, say, Halsin is. (Hopefully he's just a friend.) The little cat is one of the better animals, though, he has to admit. Hesitantly, he strokes its long white fur, and the thing purrs faintly at the gentle touch. It's more like him than he thought. ]
It's only lucky that I've decided not to make it a snack.
[ It's small enough that it would be a poor snack anyway, but Astarion says it regardless, as if threatening the little creature lest it think he, ugh, likes it.
He lifts the cat by the middle, and its eyes open, flicking at him in annoyance for interrupting its nap yet again. He places it on the ground gently, and it immediately flops back down to finish its sleep, done with these ridiculous elves that keep moving it around. Astarion stands up, then glances down and pats at his borrowed trousers, stomping his foot in indignation. ]
no subject
It's only lucky that I've decided not to make it a snack.
[ It's small enough that it would be a poor snack anyway, but Astarion says it regardless, as if threatening the little creature lest it think he, ugh, likes it.
He lifts the cat by the middle, and its eyes open, flicking at him in annoyance for interrupting its nap yet again. He places it on the ground gently, and it immediately flops back down to finish its sleep, done with these ridiculous elves that keep moving it around. Astarion stands up, then glances down and pats at his borrowed trousers, stomping his foot in indignation. ]
You got fur on my pants!