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/No, no,/ she purred, /I want to thank him and ask him to hurt him /more,/ of course./
Morog's purring stilled and his huge body tensed. Hurt him more? I...do you not like your two-legs, then? His mental voice held a wary confusion.
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Maldahendiel pressed her paws to Morog's side and began kneading. /My Magician will not go to him again. Last time he spoke to the elf, the elf cut him up with his iron tooth.../
Morog purred with contentment, his big paws flexing and razor-claws sliding in and out. And you want revenge? he guessed. If someone were to hurt his two-legs with an iron tooth, Morog would devour them. Literally.
/They are,/ she admitted, /but there is an elf with yellow hair who has earned my praise. I have a task to assign him- one he is well-suited for./
Morog rolled to snuggle his large body against the smaller grey queen, draping one paw over her protectively. He yawned and sniffed at her head, pleased that she carried his scent now. Can't you just have your two-legs talk to the elf?
/Well, /make/ her wishes be in accordance to mine,/ she purred, grooming the top of his head. /I want to speak to two-leggeds./
She's almost as stubborn about getting her way as a cat, he answered proudly. Once she sets her mind not even we can change it. Why do you want to speak to two-legs anyway? Most of them are booooring.
//You/ would do what I ask, would you not, handsome?/ she asked, turning on her back and stretching the long grey fluff of her belly.
Morog buried his heavy head in her stomach fur, sniffing and licking and nuzzling the small queen affectionately. Of course my queen...if it didn't contradict my Lady's wishes, he added quickly, darting a glance at the woman, who rolled her eyes.
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/Big kitten,/ she cooed, slipping under his chin and arching her back against it, ending the number by flicking his face with her tail.
"Oh, sweet Eru," Berúthiel muttered aloud in disgust.
Pretty pretty queen, Morog purred, then licked the side of Malda's face affectionately.
Fluffy tail flowing just above her head like a flag, Malda approached Morog and batted at his nose with the cat equivalent of a smirk.
Morog flopped onto his size and stretched languorously, rumbling a purr. He lifted his massive head and rubbed his chin along the smaller cat's head. The woman looked on, disgusted.
/Oh but he has done me a service.../ she purred, not even bothering to look away from Morog. /Hello,/ she then replied to the tom, /I am./
He does not see it as a service to you, she snapped in response. And Morog! I would have thought you'd have better taste!
Morog flicked a glance at her, managing to convey in just that pointed look that he was not exactly spoiled for choice when it came to sentient queen cats. It was Maldahendiel...or his own sister.
