DER FEEN KÖNIG.

“FRUMPKIN !!!!!!!!!!!” her voice is LOUD when she SCREAMS - and she’s STUCK on the spot in a panic, frantically LOOKING from her alchemy book and alchemy kit towards the IDIOT cat - before she DROPS the book onto the ground ( and the VIAL, unfortunately - it’s contents now SPILLED on the ground, acid EATING the wooden floor and creating an UGLY, gaping hole in the floor - oh, that’d be FUN to explain later ) to POUNCE onto the cat, a glorious attempt in trying to WRANGLE that button out from its GRUBBY paws - and also its MOUTH, because you DON’T EAT BUTTONS !! Trust her - she’s TRIED.

          trots up to whatever person he finds first and presents the dagger he’s carrying around in his mouth. the cat is armed.

          either way, he hops a line up and down beauregard’s shoulder, away and back to her face, and then rotates his entire head for the full 360 degrees. 

          ‘ MROW— ‘ a disgruntled sound, followed by frumpkin pulling at one of her earrings with his teeth. technically, this isn’t biting. 

         frumpkin keeps very direct eye contact with molly. does he understand what’s being said to him? you don’t know. what’s very certain is that he grabs the tail between his paws tighter, and monches it again for good measure. his paw-paw has no power here.

          there is a charm on mollymauk’s horn. and he must get it. what has, until now, been a harmless cuddle session on the tiefling’s shoulders, now becomes a stealth mission as frumpkin nudges the moon charm with a paw, testing its sound.

          he is hidden. in her hair. there is absolutely no way anybody can spot his bright orange pelt throughout all that blonde. he drops himself on his back and scratches at a strand.

          yasha is very comfortable. she is big. she doesn’t falter under his weight like nott does, and she also doesn’t try to peel him off of her. her big hands are very careful. frumpkin has figured out that she likes it when he purrs, so that’s what he does, after curling himself into a ball on her lap. it’s warm, and nice, and he hopes she’ll start petting him. 

          gently. very gently. presses his nose against her cheek and gives a soft meow. it’s a little cold, but it’s a nose bump filled with love.

          against his better judgement, frumpkin has been draped around nott’s shoulders via finger snap from his master. this, however, will not stop him from immediately gnawing on her ear as soon as he’s in reach. it is. nothing compared to the things she has gnawed on.

          this little bastard cat has spent the better part of the afternoon hunting molly’s tail. finally: he’s caught it between his squishy paws. now. it is bite time.