'Stray' had come with constables on his tail. That was never a good thing around the Windgrace manor but surely it was typically easy to deal with. The stray cat had blinked his way into the nearest room - which unfortunately happened to be Drystan's, appearing from his teleport with a PUFF of white fur. He landed at a crouch, ears and tail up and alert as he cast his gaze around and ultimately found his eyes meeting the eldest Windgrace's stare. He had a grilled fish in his mouth and an obviously not-his article of clothing adorning his body.... and there were two constables jogging up the path, using lanterns to try and find a wayward young man in the bushes.
Drystan Windgrace had been sitting and going over some notes, gut full from what was a smaller dinner than usual, but Windgrace's didn't go without unless they absolutely had to, and the glutton had his fill and then some. So with that fuzzy sense of being tired from having eaten so much, he was hazy around the edges of his thoughts. His focus was on the words of the book though, something that would help decipher some of the information of the Book of Shadows he'd given to Dinah to pour over. He moved to turn a page and PUFF! White hair and a cat...boy... was meeting his stare.
He opened his mouth to say something to him and heard the constables out back in the bushes. He closed his mouth, narrowed his eyebrows, and snapped the book closed. He stood and made his way to the open window and called out to them.
"Excuse me! Is there a REASON for you to be squabbling about in my bushes in the dead of night, making all that racket and spilling your lights all over? This is the Windgrace Manor, not some back alley. You ask my permission before you nearly go tromping into my sister's beautiful gardens!" There was some murmuring from down below where the constables had paused. Then one voice spoke up louder.
"So, ...can we have permission? we're looking for a kid...half naked, stole a fish off someones grill!"
Drystan listened then, after a moment, leaned his hands on the window sill and leaned halfway out the window. "Sorry chaps, answer is no. Now get off the property now and come back with paperwork that you need a half naked boy with a fish from here, and we can talk about it more. Good luck on that." He saluted the officers, and then stood back up, crossing his arms, waiting for them to murmur between each other, the one voice calling back, not quite as sure of himself sounding as he was prior, "Yes..uhh..Mr. Windgrace. Sorry to have bothered you. Just be wary of anyone suspicious." Drystan let his mouth curl into a grin and said to himself and the fish thief. "Oh, to be sure. Nothing suspicious 'round here,"
He watched them walk off and he turned back and sat back down in his seat on the old trunk looking over at the catboy. "So, are you one of Valene's ....relatives? Friend?" He lifted his eyebrows at him.
'Stray' had started slinking away from the windows, finding whatever spot was farthest from them so as not to be seen. When he got the idea that Drystan was not going to turn him over and that the constables were indeed turning to take their leave, he shimmied the lengthy sleeves down his forearms and took the fish into his hands. Hungry bites tore into the meat, navigating the bones like a pro until he realized Drystan was speaking to him. Bright blue eyes blinked at the much taller man. He spoke, without much warning or polite knocking, at Drystan's mind. <Valene. The Cait Sidhe. The fae cat. Not related. But friends,> he explained while continuing to chew and strip the fish meat from that stolen morsel. <This is home, for now. Windgraces are not Mumsie. But they are kind.> He paused, looking down at his grubby hands and his grubby feet from running about in the city and woods. < Do you want fish? I can take another. Very quickly. Not this one though. Going to eat all of this one. >
He heard the voice of the catboy in his head and huffed a laugh. So this was the kitty Dinah had spoken of. <Oh? You must be the kitty my siblings have spoken of. I didn’t realize you were also …not always a cat. Forgive me. And no, thank you for offering to share, you’re kind as well. If you’re still hungry after the fish, I can fetch you some leftovers from the kitchen.> It seemed very cat-like to take someone's fish dinner, and something about the catboy seemed like he belonged. So it hadn’t been hard to tell off the constables, and give kitty cover. He smiled at him and his grubby hands and feet, hoping he wouldn't decide to jump on the bed.
'Stray' twitched his nose, which was a little pinkish red like he had a cold - except he never sniffled so it must have just been how it was colored. <Should not be. Eating a little at a time. Recovering from the bad mushrooms,> he replied. He went back to eating his fish until it was just head and tail and bone, things he was too finicky to figure out eating with a mostly-human mouth. Then he was POOFing over to Drystan, the bones left at his feet as the cat crouched MUCH closer to him, licking his lips and fingers and sucking on them to get them clean. <Must hide though. Dinah will force a bath if she sees. But at least I am in clothes. I found clothes, like she said to. Can't find Dorian's pants. And they are bigger than me.>
POOF! Catboy was closer now and preening post meal. Drystan just laughed softly, and bit his lips. <Aww, I’m sorry you got sick from the mushrooms. Gotta stay away from those things. You’re pretty lucky that you’re getting better…> He paused and smiled and leaned over a bit, holding out his hand, the back of his palm facing the catboy, extending his long claws and just holding it there. <You can hide here, don’t worry. I won’t force a bath on you, just please don’t jump into my bed. I’ll make sure you have somewhere comfortable to curl up. And..yes, you found clothes! I..don’t think Dorian cares so much about losing a pair of pants. Especially if it was for a good cause. I don’t have any clothes small enough to fit you. So keep hold of what you found, hm?> He shook his head and sighed. <I used to have a cat. Back in England. Actually his name was Lucky. He was an all black cat, and there were superstitions about black cats being unlucky, which is rubbish. So…You’re Lucky too. Lucky to have found the Windgrace’s that's for one.> He grinned again and said it outloud, “Lucky sound like a good name then? I’ve got to call you something.”
'Stray' finished with his preening and looked at the offered hand. Crawling forward on his hands and feet, his back arched and his tail curled inquisitively he sniffed at Drystan's clawed hand before rubbing the side of his face against it, one cheek than the other. "Lucky. Darius. Kitty. Muffin. Dirty-little-scamp," he said aloud, the inflections much copied from Dorian and Dinah's own speech. "Many names. Lucky is good." He headbutted Drystan's hand and leaned against his leg, clearly relishing the scritches and attention. "Black cats... not all bad. Valene is a black cat. Can be scary... but is sweet. Not bad luck."
A wide happy smile spread across his face as Lucky did exactly what he figured he might, and used his claws to gently scratch down his back and on the top of his head and behind his big white ears. Sometimes it’s just the simple things, however odd the packaging may be. He petted down his back but not much further than his lower back as he leaned into his leg. “I think it just depends on the cat, has nothing to do with what color they happen to be.” He looked around the room, and then motioned towards the paintings and the easel and table and open paint jars. “That area is off limits ok? I’d hate for you to get paint stuck to you. That would mean even longer baths.” He made a face like, ‘gee that's probably bad’. He stood up then and walked over to the closet, and opened the doors, searching for something inside. “Let me toss something together for you.”
'Stray' leaned into those scritches HARD. He might've fallen over if he weren't mostly leaning against the trunk Drystan sat on and the side of his leg. From his throat, despite being human on the outside, came the rumbling sound of a loud and almost palpable purr. It did not sound much different from a regular cat purr except for the increased volume but it did feel different. It felt like warmth, comfort, relaxation - settling into clean sheets after a bath. The longer Drystan listened to it the more the feeling grew and the more obvious it became that that particular effect was magical in some fashion. It stopped abruptly when Drystan stood and a loud huff through the nostrils sounded from behind him. "Off limits," he echoed and crawled over after him, butting up against his legs and curling around his ankles as he stood in front of the closet doors. "What is it there? Paper? Colorful things? There's wood. It looks good for scratching," he admitted and stretched up his arms to knead at the fabric covering Drystan's shins.
“Well, I was looking for ….this.” He pulled out a nicely woven plush blanket, a throw that one might use whilst reading on the chaise. “I’ll put it on the bed and you can get yourself all situated there if you do want to hop up there. Otherwise… whatever looks comfortable.” He shrugged a little and stepped back carefully to not step on anyone's tail or toes, and closet the closet doors and turned to pick up a tin cup full of different lengthed colored pencils and half a stack of plain white paper, as well as a glass jar filled with cleaned brushes of every size and shape imaginable. “This will also have to do for now.” He walked slowly over to the bed and tossed the blanket sort of on half the bed, and then sat back down on the trunk and proceeded to upend the tin with all the pencils in it sending them in every direction, some rolling away, some staying in the clump some bouncing and hitting the wall before rolling. Drystan just sat back and watched while he set the jar down next to him and the stack of papers as well, taking one and starting to crumple it up into a ball in his hands.
'Stray' stared at the blanket with wide eyes. "Ah... like the blanket from that day. Dinah brought a woman to heal me. I was wrapped in a blanket. Comfortable, soft..." he lapsed into purring again and seemed reluctant to let Drystan's pant leg go. When he did, he remained flopped there on his side on the floor, his tail swishing back and forth and his limbs sprawled. "Does - " he began before the clattering sound of falling pencils made his ears perk. He was on his feet and hands again in a blink, pupils blown wide as he launched himself forward to bat at and chase rolling pencils, heedless of the furniture he bumped into along the way. It was much clumsier an affair in his human form and several times he slipped and fell on his face or on a shoulder before giving up and flopping atop the spilled art supplies with a groan of defeat, his shirt halfway up his abdomen and doing nothing at all to hide the very human nudity down below.
Drystan peeled into soft low laughter at the chaos that ensued. It was perfect in every way. He tossed the paper ball at Lucky’s belly, not really caring about the nudity. “Harder to do as a human I’d imagine. All fingers and weird limbs?” He wrinkled up a few sheets and tossed them on the floor and then started wadding up another ball. “So you just sort of live here and there and wherever?” He asked. He looked down and saw the snag in his pant leg and pulled a bit on the threads and shrugged. Mr. Song or someone knew how to sew.
'Stray' flailed to get at that paper ball, his initial grab for it sending it flying. He scrambled to chase it, eventually pouncing on the thing and batting it around a bit before actually thinking to respond. "Hm? Oh. Very much harder. Not used to this," he said, flopping his head back so he could look at Drystan, and since he was laying on the floor this likely meant peering at him upside-down. The long fringe of white hair flopped back to reveal smooth youthful features, a button nose and angled eyes. He had a coil of something around his neck, dark brown like entwined branches. "Before, I was just a cat. Mumsie's cat. She gave me this with magic. Now I can go back and forth. Only... I don't always remember how."
Drystan lifted his brows. “That’s quite the gift. She must care for you very much.” He smiled and tossed one of the paper balls over his head towards him. “Ahhh.. that’s a shame. At least you remember how sometimes? Is there a way that maybe Hunter could help you remember? He was able to help me remember something I had forgotten.” He turned and pulled out a rather large brush with long hairs that plumed out then became quite thin at the tip. He held it in his hands as if he were to use it but just folded one arm over the other and rested there. “I don’t know what it might do, because since then I’ve been having some odd thoughts, but they only last a moment and then they are gone. If you don’t mind a side effect, that is, he may be of help to you.”
'Stray' paused his play to lay there a bit more indolently. "She did..." He watched the ball sail past him, this time not chasing it and instead seeming to contemplate the question put to him. "Hunter could eat me. Was mad... the first time I came by, I chased the bunnies. And Hunter was angry." His tail flicked and he rolled over onto his side again, pawing listlessly at one of the pencils just out of reach. "Dinah says the dead are stuck here a while. Could just ask Mumsie. Probably... could find her somewhere. Ask her questions." He curled up into a little ball and after a moment his mass seemed to shrink in on itself until he was a large white tomcat nested in that oversized shirt.
“Oh..Ohhhhh..” realization that Mumzie was not living dawning on him. “Possibly, there are a lot of souls around, might take a long time. Hunter, he was just protecting the bunnies. He should know you are NOT food and that he would upset all of us VERY much if he were to hurt you.” Then suddenly he shrank down into a rather large actual cat. “Aww..c’mere…” He waggled the brush at him and then sat back some and patted his lap. “However you did that…” He shook his head in wonder. But he offered up a warm lap, a ling thing that had soft hairs on the end, and all the pets and scritchies a cat could want.
'Stray' let out a quiet "mrrr" and got up from his curl, stretching once before meandering over and headbutting Drystan's leg. He didn't climb up himself, just nuzzling and wiping his face on the man's knee before POOF! teleporting again in a puff of white hairs. He appeared right in Drystan's lap, already limp and folded over it like a stray bit of laundry. < Hunter has too many teeth. Too much biting. Even when playing. Too much biting, > he protested as his tail flicked and he pawed at that brush. <I will find Mumsie. Ask Mumsie.>
“It was just a thought, not everyone has to be friends, it’s okay. I wish I could help you look, but I cannot see them. I’m sorry. But you’re welcome here anytime.” He felt the heft of the cat once he was limp and in his arms, but he didn't mind it one bit. He waggled the brush towards his face and front paws, letting his other hand sink into a belly full of fuzz, and just began to give all the pets. He’d make his way up to his chest, then go for under the chin and over behind an ear to give the masterfully given best ear rubs of all time, where he softly grabbed his whole ear ball and just gently squished his ear around.