[ Oh. Gods. Iorveth flicks his eye towards the direction of the stairs from where he's crouched, rifling through the cabinet under the sink; he considers the pros and cons of maneuvering elsewhere until the metaphorical storm subsides, but finds himself having to contend with the padding of soft paws up wooden stairs.
Tara.
"Gale? What are you doing up at this hour?", Iorveth hears the tressym say. "And what have I told you about your midnight snacks?"
Ah. Iorveth straightens up and reaches for the door, but it's too late: glowing cat eyes peer out from the dark, fixing themselves firmly on Iorveth as he grabs the nearest towel and surreptitiously (?) tries to make himself slightly more modest.
A hiss, and a yowl loud enough to be heard from anywhere in the tower. "My Gods! Just what is going on here!?" ]
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Tara.
"Gale? What are you doing up at this hour?", Iorveth hears the tressym say. "And what have I told you about your midnight snacks?"
Ah. Iorveth straightens up and reaches for the door, but it's too late: glowing cat eyes peer out from the dark, fixing themselves firmly on Iorveth as he grabs the nearest towel and surreptitiously (?) tries to make himself slightly more modest.
A hiss, and a yowl loud enough to be heard from anywhere in the tower. "My Gods! Just what is going on here!?" ]