Spirits of the Earth

Two men— tall, unshaven, and wholly unkempt —stopped to catch their breath.

This forest, nestled closed to the province of Featherfall, served as their temporary sanctuary, for the time being. His face was beaded with sweat, breaths labored, body slumped, as if he had just completed a cross country marathon. Both of the men were dressed in black, tattered rags, each with a tattoo of an X marked across their right cheeks.

One of the men, who sported wild, unruly red hair, leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think we lost 'em, for now."

The other man reached into his coat pocket, and took out a package wrapped in fine, white cloth. His hands, coated with grime and sweat, dirtied the linen as he undid the rope that held the cloth together, taking out a silver brooch from the wrappings. He held it up to the light, which caused the brooch to gleam in the sun, leaking a strange magical energy as it absorbed the sunlight. It seemed to illuminate the whole forest as it did so, giving off a divine light.

"Oi, put it away!" the redheaded man hissed. "Why not just alert the whole bloody forest that we're here, huh?"

"I'm just checkin' to make sure it works!" the man holding the brooch shot back. Begrudgingly, he tucked the brooch back in its wrappings, placing it back in his coat pocket. "It's been through hell the last few days, and we've only got enough energy to teleport one more time. If he finds us..."

"He won't! As long as you don't go showin' off the damned thing, we'll be fine." The redhead man groaned, rubbing his temples. "Just remember the plan. We'll teleport to Jadenshine if he finds us again. Got it? Northen Jadenshine. Don't go forgetting again."

The man in charge of the brooch sighed in exasperation. "I got it, I got it! No need to tell me twice..."

Both men sighed, still keeping along the forest path. They grew a little less wary as they made their way through the trees, still catching their breath.

It would seem, for a time, that they were off the hook, when suddenly, a dagger flew from behind them, nicking one of the men's ears, nearly cutting it off. The man jumped in surprise, holding a hand to his ear and spun around, spying the mercenary who had been hunting them all this time. In almost no time at all, the mercenary had been quietly closing in on them, and now he was drawing his blade, meaning to stop them with lethal force, if necessary.

The merc's blade was parried by the redhead's sword, while the other man seemed bit his lip, backing up, a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Aden, now!" the redhead shouted, and in a flash, the two had disappeared. The merc's blade cut through air— they had escaped his grasp, once again.

Reks stood up, narrowing his dim grey eyes. He swore under his breath, adjusting his hood back up and over his cat ears, staring off into the distance. The merc crossed his arms over his chest, almost at a loss for what to do. They had escaped him again— after weeks of tracking them down — and sooner or later, they'd meet with their master, to give them the brooch. If he didn't get it back before then, gods, he'd never hear the end of it...

"Damnit," he cursed, casting his eyes up toward the sky. It was back to the drawing board, and he had absolutely no idea where they could've gone. And, to make matters worse, he could hear a shuffling in the trees, as if someone was hiding, spying on his failure.

"Who's there?" he called, one hand on the hilt of his blade, grey eyes searching the treetops. At a measly height of five feet, five inches, Reks didn't look like much— but he was pissed off and not likely to be in a very good mood at the moment.

Forests weren't usually Monnayage's first choice for hangouts. He felt comfortable enough in them, something he figured was due to his inherited cat-like nature, but there wasn't enough going on in them to keep his attention for very long. The only reason he'd agreed to go into the forest today was because Maneki had wanted to do some hunting.

She was somewhere in the forest, stalking silently through the undergrowth. From time to time he picked up an image in his mind of a bush or a set of tracks, even occasionally caught the smell of the prey Maneki was hunting. While the thought of her eating a squirrel—and raw, too—revolted him, he did not mentally voice this to her. He didn't want to be rude and interrupt her concentration.

A nap might be nice, he thought, staring at the branches overhead. He'd only had ten hours of sleep last night and could definitely do for some more.

But just as he was preparing to get comfortable, his attention was directed toward the sound of people some distance away. They were approaching at a slow pace and stopped only a few trees away from the one he was currently leaning on. By the sound of their heavy footfalls, they were men.

"I think we lost 'em, for now," he heard one of them say. This piqued his curiosity almost at once. Whom, or what, were these men running from?

He pressed himself further against the tree, ears straining to listen. There was no point in standing up unless he wanted them to know he was there.

For a moment there was nothing but the sound of someone fiddling around with something, a sound so soft that Monnayage doubted he'd have been able to hear it had he normal human senses. Then, without warning, the forest appeared to vanish in a blindingly white light. His eyes didn't even have time to adjust to this sudden brightness before it vanished as quickly as it had come.

What in the name of Kia wasthat? he wondered, blinking several times.

Several more minutes passed as he listened to the two men bicker between one another. Nothing they said made any sense to him, at least when it came to explaining what that bright light had been. There was mention of Jadenshine, where they apparently planned on meeting up at were they to be caught by ... whoever it was that was after them.

When they began to move again, Monnayage followed them. He had nothing better to do, after all, and he was generally interested in what was going on. If anything, he found their manner of speaking to one another humorous. With his feline-esque skills, he remained unnoticed.

He became aware of someone following the men some time during his own stalking of them. He couldn't see the person, but he could smell him or her, and the person was closing in fast.

Before he knew it, a fight was breaking out. The men, who he watched from behind some foliage, were being attacked by another man. A mercenary by the looks of him.

Oh. Wait 'til Maneki hears about this, he thought, smiling.

The brawl lasted for only so long, the two men he'd initially been following vanishing in thin air before things got interesting.

Darn.

He watched the agitated mercenary for a bit longer, then grew bored again. He sighed and propped himself against the nearest tree.

Somehow the guy heard that, though.

Guess it was time for some more fun.

Without bothering to stand up and come into view, Monnayage said to the trees at large, "No one. You're hearing things."

Oh, great. He had a wise guy on his hands.
 
If the stranger hiding amongst the trees meant to attack him, he probably would've done so already. With that in mind, Reks slowly took his hand off the hilt of his blade, but kept his stance defensive, out of sheer habit rather than anything else. He had no idea what this guy (assuming said person was a guy) hiding in the bushes wanted, but him playing the smart aleck was not going to fly with Reks today.
 
"No one? Really? Last time I checked, trees don't talk." His words were needlessly testy, but he did not know how to mask his anger. And of course, as soon as he spoke them, he let out a hiss of ire— it sounded almost like the mewling, territorial sound a cat makes when they're angered. Reks clamped his mouth shut, hoping to the gods whoever the stranger was hadn't heard it, or at least thought to pass it off as an angered cat strolling by. Goddamnit, he really needed to control his anger, but it seemed that not even the curse could help him reign in his needless rage.

Talk about a touchy person. Whether an assassin or not, this guy really needed to calm down. It made it all the more fun to play around with him, though.

"Oh?" he said, leaning his head back against his tree and closing his eyes with a smile. "How do you know that you haven't just met one?" It wasn't impossible, after all. Serendipity's populace was known to have some interesting creatures. Talking trees didn't seem too outlandish to him.

And then came the strange sound, almost like a cat's, and Monnayage tilted his head to the side. He wasn't new to cat noises, and he recognized almost immediately the indignation behind it. Maneki was known to give the same noise often, especially when he was courting a woman.

This was turning out to be more interesting than he'd first thought it would be. Was it possible that this person was part cat? He'd met some people that were—they weren't common, but they weren't uncommon, either.

"That wouldn't happen to have been you, would it?" he asked. The guy didn't smell like a cat; he smelled more like a human than anything else, maybe with a tinge of something that could have been magic.

"How do you know you haven't just met one?"

This was why Reks loathed Serendipity. Everything about this wretched place was oozing with magic, and there was a vile unnaturalness to everything around him. The witch would've liked this place, he was sure — it was filled to the brim with freaks like her — but to Reks, it was only an unsettling reminder of the magic that was settled inside him, embedded in the tattoos on his forearm, keeping him in pain, keeping him cursed. He placed his right hand on his forearm at the thought, grimacing.

"I highly doubt that," the mercenary managed to mutter, rolling his eyes.

Temper, temper, he had to keep it under control. And, just his luck, he had heard his feline hiss of disapproval too. His cat ears perked under his hood at the sound of his voice, pinpointing the general area to which this guy was hiding. Reks looked toward where the voice was coming from, still unable to see any figure amongst the trees.

"...Of course not," he denied casually, maybe too casually, and brushed the subject off. He strode near the trees where the voice rang from, his steps careful, calculated. Reks was a jumpy person by nature, and he hated surprises. He honestly had no idea what this guy's deal was, and normally he wouldn't have bothered, but this person just might've seen those two neanderthals that had managed to slip away.

"I would love to play games with you, but you may just be an important witness to a job I'm working on." He spoke this to the trees, still unable to see anyone. If he spoke again, maybe he could get a better idea of where he was hiding. "Did you see two guys passing through here? I mean, if you're a tree, you must've had a good view of 'em." There was no way he could've missed them. Those two oafs probably even took out the brooch and everything, considering the flash of bright light that seemed to engulf the forest before.

Monnayage grinned wider as he listened to the approaching footsteps. This guy was a horrible liar.

And so tense, he thought, hearing the tautness in the resonance of the footfalls. He acts like something's going to jump out at him at any moment. It was an idea, yes. Scaring people was fun, after all, but he didn't exactly feel like it. Who knew how weapon-happy this supposed mercenary was.

Staying where he was, closed his eyes again, quite comfortable. And having a great deal of fun being an irritation.

"I'm afraid you're wrong on that note," he said. "If I'm a tree, I don't have eyes. How could I possibly have seen anything?"

That's right. Come find me. I'm not going to move. Boy, this guy smelled funny.

Of course he hadn't seen anything — trees didn't have eyes! Duh, Reks.

The mercenary rolled his eyes — he probably shouldn't have tried to humor the possibility that the stranger was a tree, even if it had been sarcastically. It only seemed like it would come back to irritate him later. "So you're telling me you're a tree that can talk and listen to me, but can't even see?" Gods, why was he even entertaining this? Under his hood, his cat ears flattened. "Can we just drop the tree thing? It's getting ridiculous at this point..."

Granted, he was glad that the stranger had responded at all, and had the common courtesy to stay in one place. As the stranger spoke, his cat ears twitched under his hood once more, picking up on the sound of his voice, closing in on his location. He stepped lightly through the underbrush, until he finally came across the stranger, leaning leisurely against a tree.

Reks crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at him. "So, you're not a tree. Now that this has been established, you mind telling me what you saw?" There was no way he hadn't seen anything — he definitely had to have at least heard something, anything, that could help Reks out. But why did he have the sinking suspicion that getting this guy to help him out wasn't going to be easy?

Monnayage opened his mouth to retort the "you can talk but can't see?" remark, but closed his mouth when he realized that he had nothing to retort with. He chuckled. "You have a point, friend. But if I were a magical tree, magic limited to certain abilities . . ."

He heard him getting closer, his sensitive ears picking up on even the mildest of sound given by the stranger's feet. When Mr. Skepticism stepped into view, Monnayage looked at him and grinned wide. "Ah, I'm afraid you've caught me." He spread his arms in a gesture of non-hostility, as if shrugging, then slowly got to his feet and wiped the forest debris off his pants.

Once he was done and he looked back up.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting; this guy had seemed a lot more of a menacing force when he'd been fighting the people Monnayage had been following. Up close, he was rather scraggy and . . . short. It made his smile widen despite himself and he had to hold back a laugh. Such tough words for one that he could sit on and hold there for as long as he pleased.

"And what if I did see or hear something?"

The amused expression that crossed the stranger's face after getting a look at him — Reks had seen it all too many times before. That look! If he had a silver pip for every time someone gave him that look, he wouldn't need to sell himself ragged to these damned merc jobs anymore. He clenched his teeth, but beyond that, remembered that he should at least try to be civil, for his own sake. Granted, this guy wasn't making it very easy.

"And what if I did see or hear something?"

"Then it'd be brilliant if you could tell me," he relayed to the stranger, furrowing his brows. "If you tell me what you saw, or heard, I can finish my mission and you can go back to... whatever it was you doing. Lounging around, or whatnot." He uncrossed his arms, trying, and perhaps failing, to come across as patient. "So? What'll it be?"

Oh, this was fun. This fellow was making it so easy.

Putting his hands on his hips, he put on an air of playful smugness. "A mission, huh? Sounds exciting." It really did. One didn't come across that many people claiming to be on "missions." What kind of mission could a scrawny guy like this be on?

Clearly those men he'd been following had some importance to this, which made the fact that he had any information at all to share riveting. He felt like a man holding a meaty treat over an impatient dog's head, teasing it but never letting go of the morsel. "But what one earth could I have heard or seen that would be so important to you?"

Would the little dog do a trick for him?

"Call it a job, then," Reks corrected. "Makes it sound less exciting." Because it wasn't. Primarily, he was a mage hunter, but during slow times like these, he'd have to settle for regular merc jobs, which somehow always turned out to be troublesome — like right now. This was a perfect example as to why Reks preferred hunting mages to merc jobs.

So he was still teasing him, and at this point, the stranger had graduated from "annoyance" to "huge pain in the ass." How hard was it to just tell him what he saw? Did he like being a pain or something, because there was no way he didn't know what Reks wanted to hear.

"There were two men," Reks started, gritting his teeth, narrowing his eyes. "Two assholes were prancing around the forest earlier, they're who I want to know about. If they said anything, or did anything..." Reks clarified, but then stopped himself. Why bother trying to clarify? He knew what he wanted to hear, he was just being a tease about it.

"Look, are you going to tell me what you know, or are you going to keep playing 'keep away' like a goddamn tool?" He forgot himself, and he let out a territorial hiss again, the mewling sound of an angered cat. His bit his lip as soon as he did it— today was definitely not his day...

His grin widened. The guy was practically oozing with irritation and it made Monnayage want to laugh. It wasn't often that he came across someone so high-strung. It made for something to do while Maneki finished with her hunt.

"Oh, those guys," he said, feigning surprise. "Yes, they were quite noisy, weren't they? Said a bunch of stuff." He put his hand on his chin and looked to the sky, squinting as though in serious thought. "I seem to recall mention of a plan to teleport somewhere. But it was such a long time ago that I—"

That noise again. And it had most definitely come from this man. Monnayage stopped and stared at him, a brow now quirked in amusement. "Easy, kitty," he said. "Don't get your whiskers in a bunch."

He didn't smell like a cat, nor did he seem to have any cat-like features. Why, then, was he such a professional at cat noises?

"Do you always go around hissing at strangers?"

Oh gods, that grin. How was he supposed to tolerate being grinned at in such a condescending, insufferable fashion? He obviously knew what Reks was talking about and was just doing this to be a pain. Why, what did Reks ever do to justify teasing? This sort of thing was always infuriating to him — he had no weapons in his arsenal that could make a man talk. All he could do was stand here and hope to the gods that he'd loosen his lips and spit out what he needed to know. All of this bugging and fussing and meddling — it was ridiculous, really.

"They wouldn't be in a bunch if you'd just cooperate," Reks groaned. Not that he even had whiskers in the first place, that is. He didn't, but if he kept being angry, the curse would kick in and add more feline features to his person. Whiskers were probably next on the list. For a second, he looked horrified at what that'd mean for him — features that he couldn't just hide — but then shook his head, returning to reality.

At his question, the merc shook his head. "Only when they piss me off," Reks hissed, crossing his arms over his chest, his cat ears flattening against his head. The fabric of his hood shifted slightly as he did so and Reks absentmindedly reached up, feeling the side of his head, making sure the hood was still secure. The last thing he needed was for the damned thing to fall off. It had been known to fall off during even the smallest gusts of winds, so he was always a little paranoid about it revealing his cat ears underneath.

"But— you mentioned the teleporters earlier, so you know who I'm talking about. Are you gonna tell me where they said they'd go? And don't tell me you don't remember — it was only five minutes ago." He was sure he'd come up with some nonsense though, and Reks was really at a loss as to how to get this guy to talk. Gods, most people would just spit info out to just be rid of it — but it seemed like it was a game to this stranger, like tormenting him was just something to keep him occupied. He was merely catnip for a bored feline.

The brief look of horror on the other man's face puzzled him. He'd only been joking about the whiskers thing, it being a figure of speech. A person could be tense, but surely not this tense.

Then Monnayage's eyes traveled up to the hood of the cloak his human plaything unconsciously touched. It was a strange thing to do, especially in the middle of a conversation, and now that he thought about it, the disguise was pretty pointless.

Being one of intense curiosity, he pushed all that the two of them had been saying thus far into a corner and asked, "What's with the guise?"

Reks eyes widened, and for a moment in time, all he could do was stare blankly at the stranger. How could this guy, who had already wasted so much of his time being coy, suddenly become so blunt? His widened eyes soon narrowed, his shock turning defensive.

"I don't know what you're talking about," was his automatic answer, said a little too carefully. His aim was to be smooth, to deflect his question with ease, but instead, he came across as a little too calculated — someone with something to hide. He didn't even notice it, but it took a miniscule step back, to distance himself from this prying stranger. The move was unconscious, his own defensive mechanism kicking in.

"You mean—the hood? It's just a hood. There's nothing strange about wearing a hood." He was rambling. "Stop trying to change the subject."

It felt like he was staring at a deer caught in a beam of light for a second, the way the guy seemed to become lost in his own thoughts. But the impression was lost when he watched him suddenly coil back like an offended snake.

Really? Really? For a mercenary, this guy failed at being inconspicuous and casual.

Grin now turned mischievous, he stepped forward. "There is when it's not cold out. Raised hoods are either for keeping one's ears warm, or hiding one's identity from a distance. I'm not at a distance, so there's no need for you to still have it up."

He stopped and thought, hand on his chin again as he looked the stranger up and down. "Unless you're one of those emotional people that feels they look 'cool' with a raised hood?"

Oh gods, no no no, he was stepping closer to him and the last thing Reks needed was for this guy to be in his personal bubble. Granted, he had already used up all of his steps backwards — no choice left in this matter, except to stand his ground. Honestly, he would've absconded from this scene earlier if not for the fact that he may have heard something — no, if not for the fact that this smarmy guy was his one and only lead.

Why did he deserve to be tormented today? What the hell had he ever done to deserve— actually, he could think of a lot of things. This was just karma for all of the crap he had done in the past, as if every single mage he had ever bagged and put their last bits of effort into making Reks have this one really uncomfortable day.

"You're making a big deal about a hood. It's ridiculous, really," Reks scoffed, feigning indifference. He averted his gaze, hopefully inconspicuously. "It's like you're trying to find reasons to get on my nerves. I just like wearing a hood, okay? Maybe I am one of those people who just feels cooler with a hood on. Is that a crime?"

It was taking all of his willpower to hold back that urge to hiss at this guy. "Are you just doing this to change the subject? 'Cause it's not gonna work. You're gonna have to put up with me until you just tell me what you heard."

Cat-like instincts took over when his toy continued to try and verbally back out of the conversation at hand. The mad urge to "chase" was blazing in Monnayage's mind, along with the already present curiosity that needed to be fed. What was it leaving this guy so nervous and twitchy? It was only a hood, after all.

Or was it?

"I make big deals about ridiculous things all the time," he said, waving the comment aside. And then he saw him look away—a big mistake. Looking away was a sign of inferiority in the animal kingdom, and Monnayage latched onto it with a sly and predatory grin. He took another step forward, this one more deliberate. "I believe it is you having to put up with me," he said with a chuckle. "Not the other way around. I'm having quite a bit of fun. Now . . ." He stared at the mysterious head-covering with ardent fervor. "If it's really just there for kicks, then you wouldn't mind taking it off. Or I can."

No no no no no, why was he constantly stepping closer? Reks' personal bubble was constantly being poked and prodded and he did not like it, not one little bit! Somehow, he had lost control over this conversation... he wasn't sure how it happened, things just kind of spiraled out of control.

This guy wouldn't stop his ceaseless questions about his hood. Why was this so entertaining to him? Most people would just take it for what it was at face value: a hood. But not today, of course not today. He had even admitted that this was all so very fun for him,

"Or I can."

Reks' stormy grey eyes widened nervously at his claim. Take off his hood... He'd take off his hood! He fought an overwhelming urge to clamp his hands over his head, but instead, forced his gaze back up at the stranger, narrowing his eyes. Under his hood, his cat ears flattened against his head, and he choked back a hiss that threatened to escape his throat.

"...You wouldn't dare."

Okay. He'd warned him. Now the guy was simply asking for it. Monnayage could not wait any longer. Would not wait any longer.

Shrugging his shoulders, he made as if the harsh words spoken had turned him away from the idea. "Suit yourself," he said. And with that he reached forward as quick as a flash and yanked back the guy's hood.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting. The idea of a second head had come to mind, even though that made absolutely no sense at all. It definitely would have been interesting. What he saw, however, made him blink.

"Huh," he said, folding him arms, baffled. "They do explain a lot of things. Yet . . ." Yet they brought on so many more questions. How could this guy have furry ears--cat ears!--when he didn't smell like a cat? Monnayage had met a few cat people in his day, but they usually had a cat-like scent to them. This guy didn't have that. He smelled . . . like a human. A nervous human, but a human just the same.

He was shrugging; okay, maybe he'd give this hood thing a rest— oh gods, what was he doing?

Before Reks could even react, his hood was flicked off, exposing his cat ears for the stranger to see. His eyes widened, face turned red from embarrassment. He really, really did it — he really had the nerve to just be the most intolerable person ever and just flick off his hood, like it was nothing.

"Fuck," Reks cursed, left eye twitching. "What is wrong with you, seriously? Do you just lack any sense of common decency or what? That's a serious question." He crossed his arms over his chest, the tip of one of his ears twitching, an attempt to hold back all his anger. It was a miracle that the curse hadn't activated today; never before had he been so ridiculously pissed at someone who was just so casually annoying. It was insane.

"They do explain a lot of things. Yet . . ."

"Yes, that explains the hissing," Reks clarified, rolling his eyes. "Yet, what? What else could you possibly want to know? Or maybe you wanna feel 'em, to check for authenticity? You might as well!" He threw his hands up, defeated. "I mean, you've already breached my privacy once, right?" Gods, what was he even doing here— he could barely remember anymore.

No extra head. No mutant growth or wart the size of a dinner plate. He couldn't see what was embarrassing about cat ears. Why would the guy feel the need to hide them? It wasn't like cat ears were a mark of a devil or a sign of some morbid disease. Monnayage actually kind of liked them.

The guy's ire amused him terribly. Through all of the cursing and yelling and insults,  his smile just got bigger and bigger until he felt his face might split in half, or he'd break into loud bouts of laughter.

But then one of the ears twitched and he found the situation so hilarious that he did laugh. It exploded out of him, after trying so hard--or maybe not so hard--to hold it in. He laughed through most of the guy's words, then stood and stared, still grinning, as he finished.

"Don't mind if I do!" he said suddenly, altogether pleased, arms now in front of him as he reached out for the two furry appendages.

They were soft, like Maneki's, only furrier. Much furrier. "Cute," he said, chuckling some more.

Why was he laughing, of all things? This wasn't a game, he was not being amusing — he was a very angry mercenary and— wait, why was he reaching for his cat ears?!

"Don't mind if I do!"

"Wait, what." Reks stared up at the man; oh god, he was serious, he was actually going to touch them. "Shit, no, I was kidding," he clarified quickly. "You're not supposed to literally..." It was too late, though, and the stranger's hands were already stroking his cat ears, yet another breach of privacy.  "...touch... them..."

He was going to go on about he was the most annoying, frustrating, and intolerable man he had ever met, but he realized, with great dismay, that having his ears touched like this actually felt, well, good. He had taken care to make sure no one ever saw his cat ears, not even his friends from the islands, so naturally, no one had ever touched them before. But it was rather relaxing really, but most of all, it was calming. To Reks, a torrent of anger, it was rare for him to ever feel this calm.

His face was still red, mainly because this was probably the most embarrassing thing to happen to him, ever. Reks was a mercenary, not someone's kitty cat to pet! Again, he cast his eyes downwards, unable to look at this guy anymore, arms still crossed over his chest. "Hey, can you not... can you stop petting them. Please. This is all kinds of ridiculous."

Was that a goddamn purr forming in the back of his throat? He had never purred before and he was not sure he wanted to start doing that now. Gods, no no no, the less cat noises he made, the better. "Seriously, cut it out. You can't just go around stroking a random stranger's cat ears..." It was a very half-hearted attempt to get him to stop.

And he was calling them cute, of all things! No, no, no, Reks' cat ears were not cute, not in the least! This was why he hid them, so people didn't laugh or start petting them or start calling his ears cute!

"They're not cute, seriously, they're abominations." Reks related, but it was without his usual venom — it was hard for him to be angry when his ears were being stroked.  "A merc shouldn't have cat ears on his head."

Relaxed muscles were the first hint to Monnayage. The guy appeared to melt under his touch. It made him beam. Too much like a cat, even if he didn't smell like one. Cats loved to have their ears scratched.

He laughed under his breath, continuing to feel around. They were real, all right. Warm to the touch, too, after being held hostage under the cloak for so long. It had to be dreadfully uncomfortable, keeping them covered all the time like that.

While he had a cat of his own that he was often petting, he'd never had the chance to touch a cat-person's ears. It seemed a breach of protocol in the situations he'd been in when he'd met them. These ears were so similar to a cat's that he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.

"They're soft," he said, as if this were a normal thing to say to someone about their ears. At the last words said by his new friend, however, he stopped and frowned a little, looking into the guy's downturned eyes.

"And why can't a mercenary have cat ears?" he asked, a little scolding. He backed up a little and folded his arms. Was this guy a victim of name-calling? Was that why he hid them? "I see nothing wrong with them. Dead useful, if you ask me. Cats can hear far better than any human." Except him. But he didn't count, since his abilities came from his familiar, Maneki.

Ever since the witch had cursed him, Reks had been a vehement maelstrom of anger and never ending frustration. The cat ears she had cursed him with, the tattoos that had manifested on his forearms as a mark of her magic misdeeds, the torrent of ceaseless pain that came with the witchery that settled in his body — all of had been nothing but a badge of shame for him to wear. He hadn't been calm — he was the kind of person who went to bed with his teeth clench — but now, just for a few moments, he was... calm.

It was stupid, he knew, letting a total stranger pet his ears like that, and even stranger for him to have found out about them so easily. No one had ever cared enough to ask why he constantly wore a black hood, and he had kept his distance from people, remaining cold and aloof, because it was better off this way, wasn't it? Until he found the witch and forced her to reverse her curse, he could never be normal. He could never be calm.

But just for a few moments, he'd allow this stranger to pet his ears. A wave of peace washed over him — and he had to choke back that purr that niggled at the back of his throat — and for the first time since he had left the islands, he wasn't angry. However, the sensation couldn't last forever, he knew, and the stranger eventually stopped. Reks' eyes opened a little wider as he did so, already missing how nice it felt. Gods, what was he doing, going soft? He should be glad that he had stopped invading his privacy, really...

Reks shoved his hands in his pockets, frowning a little. "Have you ever seen a merc with cat ears? It doesn't happen. Can't happen. No one would take you seriously, as I've learned the hard way. I mean — look at me." He gestured to himself, referring to his height. "I'm short enough as it is. Having cat ears to boot, well... It just makes it harder to prove yourself."

This guy thought they were useful, though. Reks absentmindedly scratched behind one of them, as it twitched in response. "Do you really think they're useful? I never thought of it that way, I guess..." He removed his hand, dropping it back at its side, and he couldn't help but laugh a little, grinning, at the thought of going without his hood on missions. "They don't exactly inspire terror into the hearts of your targets, though." The kitty mercenary? No no no, that was not happening...

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a feeling of satisfaction and pride that was entirely not his own made itself known, like a match had been lit unexpectedly. Maneki had apparently caught her prey and would soon be, or probably already was, eating the disgusting raw meat of the poor creature.

"Can't say that I have ever met a mercenary with cat ears, no," he answered honestly. "But then again, I haven't met that many mercenaries. One or two, maybe. And I don't see why a person wouldn't take you seriously." He pointed at the guy's ears, his mouth twitching with a restrained smile as the action seem to make one of them twitch again. "Cats are untamed creatures; hunters, animals that, while they can be pets, have no trouble surviving on their own if turned out of their human homes and left to fend for themselves."

The laugh made Monnayage beam. So, this guy wasn't such a big badass all the time, after all. That was good. He shrugged when asked the question, brushing off what was said. "Of course they're useful. You can hear better than other people, can't you? I'd say that's useful to one with a profession such as yours. As for being short? Who cares? Makes it easy to sneak around. Height doesn't make a difference in anything, except when needing to reach a high shelf in a pantry." Though, he had to admit, he found the guy's height amusing. That was him, though. He found almost everything amusing.

"They might not inspire fear, but I don't see them inspiring giggles, either. The only reason I laughed is because they were unexpected. If you didn't hide them all the time, then they wouldn't be." He tilted his head as he looked at the ears again. "And they don't seem to be domestic cat ears, anyway. Too big. Maybe a big wild cat's? Those aren't something to mess with." No need to mention that the guy's behavior toward them being petted was more of a housecat's reaction. He'd keep that to himself.

When he realized what he was saying, he blinked. What was he, some kind of counselor? He was talking to Mr. Serious as though he was a close friend. And he didn't even know his name!

"Name's Monnayage, by the way," he said, holding out his hand.

And I don't see why a person wouldn't take you seriously.

His quip made Reks suddenly remember the reason he had been talking to him in the first place. "You didn't!" Reks huffed, crossing his arms. "I asked you a simple question before, and you talked in circles and now I still don't know anything about those guys." He dropped his arms, regarding the stranger curiously. "Maybe this is another one of your brilliant distractions." The merc didn't really believe that, but hell, it could be true!

Despite everything, this man — this same guy who he had thought was a total pain in the ass before — was actually understanding about Reks' strife. The merc was sure he hadn't met anyone who had been able to talk with him about all of the issues that swirled so constantly in his head — except for one, back at the islands, but that was long ago. He waved the memory away, and smiled a little. "You're right, I guess... but it would be cooler to be taller, wouldn't it? It's kind of frustrating sometimes, is all..."

Reks blinked back in surprise when the stranger noted that his ears weren't those of a domestic cat. "Ah, you noticed?" the merc asked, twitching them voluntarily, flashing a proud smirk. "Yeah, they're supposed to be a panther's, actually. You've got a good eye for that sort of thing. Are you like, a cat..." He fumbled around for the words. "...a cat... researcher, or something? That would explain why you're just kind of hanging around the woods like this."

He was still curious about the nameless stranger, who would, apparently, not stay nameless for long. Reks committed his name to memory, staring at his hand warily, wondering if he should shake it. The only people he really shook hands with nowadays were his contractors. He couldn't tell how long it had been since he had shaken someone's hand in an act of friendship. Nevertheless, he took the man's hand, shaking it firmly, looking up at him.

"I'm Reks," he introduced, and found that he was smiling, despite everything. "Despite you being kind of a pain before," Okay, he had been a big pain. "You're a pretty alright guy, Monnayage." It didn't sound like it at all, but it was Reks' backwards way of apologizing for being so snappy before.

Question? Questi--oh!

That's right. He smiled. He'd forgotten about the whole reason he was talking to this guy. How silly of him. But he'd let the guy go on thinking this was a masterful distraction.

And panther ears, huh? Interesting. He'd never come across a panther before, but by the looks of the ears, they were probably quite beautiful.

"Ah . . . sure. A 'cat expert,'" he said, smirking. "You could say that." Even now he could feel Maneki approaching, her hunt finished. "Reks, huh? Easy to remember." Then he laughed. "It's my hobby to be a pain."

Reks crossed his arms at his nonchalant response. "You're pretty good at your hobby, I'll give you that," he noted, but was still grinning all the same. Try as he might, he couldn't really be mad at him anymore, despite how easily he had been distracted by him.

He was a little surprised, however, when he admitted to being a 'cat expert,' even if that wasn't the exact term for it. "Wait, so you are a cat expert?" the merc asked, his ears standing at alert — but then thought about it for a bit, shaking his head. "Or—or are you just teasing?" Reks frowned a little; it was hard to tell with him, sometimes. Plus, he wanted to learn a little more about this guy — he had somehow ended up bearing his soul to him after all. He was curious about him, but he didn't really know how to go about asking.

Monnayage beamed under the compliment, standing a bit taller. It always felt good to have one's talent--in his case, his annoying personality--commended.

Reks' confusion made the situation all the more entertaining. Arms still folded, he quirked a brow. "Not teasing this time," he said.

And it was this moment that he sensed Maneki's presence just above them in the trees. He looked up, seeing her blue eyes glowing in the shadows as she peered at them.

<Have a nice hunt?> he asked her.

<Yes. Who's this? I've never seen him before.>

<I hadn't either until a few moments ago. New friend. Goes by Reks.> Now his eyes were back on his new friend. "Tell me, Reks," he said out loud. "Do you like cats?" It was hard to tell, what with the guy hiding his ears from everyone and complaining about them.

But Maneki, as always, did not wait to find out. Slinking down from the trees to stand by Monnayage's feet, she announced her company with a loud meow and peered up at Reks with mild curiosity, licking her paws in an imperious manner at the same time.

"Ha. Reks," he gestured at Maneki with his hand, "this is Maneki."

Wait, so— so he really was a cat expert, no jokes? Reks raised an eyebrow, not really sure how to take this newfound nugget of knowledge. But it was Monnayage's question that really involved some thinking — did he hate the buggers that he was forced to share so many attributes with? He wasn't sure, but even so...

Reks shook his head after a beat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Can't say I don't. I mean, sure, I don't like looking like one... but it's not their fault I've been cursed."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a cat slunk down from the treetops. His eyes widened, a little surprised, but the cat seemed friendly enough. From the way the cat sat at Mon's feet, it looked like he might just be her owner. Was this what he meant, when he said he was a cat expert? He looked up at him, and Mon confirmed it for himself with his gesture, introducing the cat as Maneki.

Reks crouched down, studying Maneki curiously. Despite his catlike features, he had never really spent much time, if any time at all, around cats. He could honestly say this was the first time he had seen one up close. "Hello, Maneki," he greeted, reaching out a hand towards her. "Do you mind if I pet her? I don't think I've ever, y'know, pet an actual cat before..." He was only asking because he hated having his ears touched randomly — maybe real cats didn't like it either? Reks wasn't sure if that was a logical conclusion to come to, but hell, better safe than sorry.

[ EDIT: omg there was a huge typo in this post. Originally Reks said "can't say I do" but I meant him to say "can't say I don't" as in, "I guess I kind of like cats." CRISIS AVERTED.]

Curiosity came alive when his new friend mentioned being cursed. Did he mean literally cursed, like in old childrens' tales, or just cursed because he didn't like having cat ears and considered it as such?

Caught up as he was in this new train of thought, Monnayage didn't have time to think about what the guy asked. A big mistake on his part, and he would mentally berate himself for it later.

At seeing the proffered hand, Maneki automatically went to it with obvious eagerness, pressing her back into the open palm to get as much as herself under his touch as she could. The cat loved being petted, loved being pampered and paid attention to.

And the touch, as always, was felt by Monnayage as well. He froze in place, half in horror, half caught up in the feeling of a hand on his back, which was always a pleasurable experience.

He felt like the trees that surrounded them, stiff, arms at his sides, hands almost clenching into fists.

Oh, hell. Not this again. It was one thing to watch in amusement as Reks enjoyed the petting of his ears, but another thing when he got caught in a similar situation.

<Damnit, Maneki. Warn me before you do this!> he hissed at the cat. Aloud he said, trying to cover up his stiffness as if it weren't occurring, "Ah . . . that's . . . good. That you don't . . . not like cats."

Before Mon could give permission, the cat had already pressed her back against Reks hand. The merc smiled, taking this as a sign of acceptance, and stroked the cat pleasantly, enjoying the feeling of the cat's warm fur against his skin. He moved his hand up towards Maneki's ears, curious to see what they felt like — and wondered if it felt as good for a cat to have their ears pet as it did for him. He figured it must, and thought that he may as well do the cat a favor, from feline to... part-feline.

Reks, who had been looking down at Maneki, didn't catch Mon's odd behavior, at first. He shrugged a little, smiling down at Maneki. "Yeah, I mean, how can you hate cats? They're pretty cool, I guess," was his casual response. He looked up at his friend, and blinked back in confusion, peering at him. "Uh... are you okay? You look like you just swallowed a bug, or something." He looked down at Maneki, and back up to Mon. "Are you not cool with me petting her?" he asked, but was still absentmindedly stroking her fur. "I can stop, if you want...?"

Gods. How many times had this happened to him now? One would have thought that after the two years with Maneki, and this incident occurring with dire frequency, that he'd have learned to have better control over it, but no. Here he was, feeling the caress of Reks' hand on the cat's back as sharply as if it were his own the young man stroked.

Monnayage had the ridiculous urge to curl up against Reks right then and there and purr like an idiot. Reks was in the perfect position for it, after all, crouching there on the ground where making oneself into a cuddly ball against the curves of his body was more than possible.

And then, oh then, Reks just happened to move his hand up to Maneki's head, and the cat started to purr louder than a growling beast. Her ecstasy blared through him like a siren.

The rational, horrified part of him wanted to scream, Yes! Yes! Stop! but that wasn't the part of him in control right now. He couldn't have told Reks to stop any more than he could sprout wings and swoop through the trees. And, to add to the blissful misery, he couldn't remember what they'd even been talking about.

He shuddered, tingles running up and down his spine like little fingers. "Ah . . . you . . . " Words! He needed to say words! To draw Reks away from the fact that he—he what?

<I like you,> Maneki was saying as she was petted, and to Monnayage's utter horror, he realized the words had actually come out of his mouth.

What in the everloving hell was wrong with this guy?

Reks stared blankly at Monnayage, one eyebrow deftly raised, still stroking Maneki's fur without much thought. All of a sudden, he was just acting really weird, like... like a literal cat had stolen his tongue right from his mouth. He hadn't said petting Maneki was a problem, so why was he acting so... so...? He couldn't even put a word on it. His odd behavior was making Reks a tad uncomfortable — maybe he had overstayed his welcome? The merc honestly couldn't tell, but his mind was racing a mile a minute, wondering if Monnayage would ever explain himself.

The only words that left his mouth only made the situation more complicated.

I like you, he said suddenly, and finally did Reks' hand freeze, along with his whole body. His cat ears stood up — twitching alert, atop his head, and his dull grey eyes widened slowly. He liked him? What did that mean? What was with him all of a sudden, just saying that out of the blue?

The merc stood up, out of his crouched position, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I... like you too, I guess?" was his uneasy reply, darting his eyes away from Mon. His mind was skyrocketing, overthinking three syllables. Reks rubbed the back of his neck, obvious uncomfortable— not with Mon, but with himself. "I mean, you know, as a friend..." Backpedaling—backpedaling into his self-imposed closet. Don't overthink—don't overshoot—three stupid syllables.

He turned to Mon suddenly, eyes narrowed, face flushed red, the tips of his ears twitching in annoyance. "What's the hell's with you, anyway? Twitchin' around like some goddamn jitterbug..." He crossed his arms over his chest, huffed out an irritated breath. "If you didn't want me to pet your damn cat, you could've just said so..."

The moment Reks' hand stopped its petting, the storm clouds in Monnayage's mind parted, glorious rational thought once again at his disposal. But with the rational thought came the full realization of what had happened—what he'd said. Were he a man for blushing, he would have, but instead he gave an uncomfortable laugh.

There was no use hiding it. Not now that it had happened. As awkward as it already was, not explaining himself would only make it worse. The look on Reks' face made him terribly uncomfortable, and that wasn't a usual feeling for him. Normally he wouldn't care, but here was a guy he actually liked, that he considered a friend even though they'd just met.

Monnayage gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. Feelings of euphoria still rushed through him, adrenaline making his heart pound. As he calmed, the laugh became more confident, more Monnayage. "It's not that I didn't want you to pet her," he said. Gods, no. Had he a choice at the time, he would have let him keep going, bringing more embarrassment onto himself, more discomfort onto the other. "It's just that—ah. Well. She moved in too quickly."

He got to his feet, brushing dirt and leaves from his pants, grinning now. Usually he had to explain this kind of thing to girls, not to guys. "Maneki's my familiar. She . . . " How to explain it? He'd done so several times before, to countless other people, but each time it was difficult. "Here. Remember this?"

Without giving any warning, he stepped toward Reks once more and grabbed at his ears, running his fingers through the coarse fur as he had before. "When you petted her, this is what I felt."

Okay, so it wasn't about him petting the cat. What the hell was it about then?

Apparently, the cat was a familiar? His familiar. He had no idea what a familiar was, but it sounded magick-y to Reks and the word was already setting off alarm bells in his head. The merc was watching Mon carefully, hands still crossed over his chest, regarding him warily. When he strode closer to him, however, the last thing Reks expected him to do was start petting his ears again.

"Wait, no—!" he protested in vain, but it was too late – his deft fingers were already stroking his ears, and that serene, calm feeling washed over him again. Gods, and he was probably just going to keep petting his ears again, another total invasion of privacy, but how the hell was he supposed to say no? With Monnayage stroking his ears, he didn't have to worry about tomorrow, or explode in a torrent of rage over a mission or failed merc job. There was peace here, but he felt guilty about taking advantage of it, especially after...

Somehow, Reks managed to pull away from Mon, glaring at him, speechless – he groped around for words, found none. This is what I felt, he had explained, and somehow, that made the situation even worse. So that cat – when he was petting his innocuous cat – he felt like this? It was already embarrassing enough for Reks that a strange could make him feel this calm, at peace, all around relaxed, but to know he could do it for another...

"Listen," You goddamn tease, Reks started, placing a hand on his cheek, as if such a gesture could hide how red his face was. "You can't— you can't just pet my ears any damn time you feel like it, okay?" He turned away, no longer looking at him, as if he were talking to the trees. It wasn't that he didn't like Mon petting them, because he was the only person who had, but it was just— he didn't know! It was too nice of a feeling—he didn't trust himself to feel it.

"And you shouldn't let people like me go around petting Maneki, if that's how you felt! I mean, isn't that weird?" It was totally bizarre to him. "Or—or do you just not mind when someone indirectly pets you?" Why was he feeling so explosive about this? He honestly didn't know. But he was probably the strangest person he'd ever met, Reks confessed, and he didn't understand him at all.

By moving the focus of the situation onto something else, something else that he found extremely amusing—yeah, he was a hypocrite! He admitted it—he found himself over his discomfort. He was back to happy-go-lucky Monnayage, and he much preferred it that way.

He made no move to follow as Reks pulled back, instead just smiling and watching, arms going back to his sides. The guy's face was as red as the flushed breast of a robin, which made everything better for some reason. Shrugging, he said, "Sorry. Didn't know how else to explain it, Reks. It is a good feeling, though, isn't it?" He sighed in pleasure and folded his arms. "But then comes the pesky awkwardness of what's causing the pleasure." Something the two of them had in common.

Maneki circled around Reks' feet, pressing up against his legs and purring. Won over so quickly, Monnayage mused, just because the guy had petted her.

Cats. All the same.

Grinning at this thought, he turned his attention back to his friend, whose question discomfited him though he didn't show it. "If given enough warning, I can cut off the feelings," he said. "But, like I said, she moved in too quickly. And it is weird." Here he chuckled. "You would not believe how many young women I've scared off. Apparently the sound of my purring like a mad cat is a turn-off."

The young mage pointed at his cat. "She likes to embarrass me by doing things like that. And succeeds, most of the time."

<Every time,> the cat corrected him.

"I guess it'd make more sense if you knew what a familiar was. It's not too common anymore. Mages don't practice it as much as they used to."

Man, how could this guy be so impossibly happy-go-lucky? It made no sense to Reks, and while it was almost infuriating to him, he couldn't say he altogether hated his attitude. Mon's smile was pretty much the total opposite of Reks' grumpy exterior – it was, what was the word? Refreshing, maybe? He didn't know.

He couldn't help but smile a little as Maneki pressed up against his legs. She was a cute cat, he admitted – and while he was tempted to pet her again, he decided he should probably refrain from doing so again... Instead, he listened to Mon's explanation – of the feelings that came whenever someone pet Maneki.

Reks laughed a little as he brought up his purring. "Yeah, I can imagine..." he began, but then did a double-take. Did he really sometimes purr without wanting to? He had never met someone else who was plagued by that same problem. "Wait! You do that too?" He asked, surprised, but then realized what he had just admitted. Damn, Reks, shut up! "I mean, uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Not that I do that...sometimes... on accident..."

There was that word again, familiar, but accompanied with another word this time, mage, and by this time, the alarm bells were sounded off louder than ever in Reks' head. He stared a Mon for a second, unable to absorb the truth. He wasn't sure why he was so surprised – nearly everyone in Serendipity was a mage – but for some reason, he had... he had expected better from Mon, expected him to be different.

"You're a mage?" He asked, in the same tone someone would ask, 'you're a spy?' Accusation rang in his tone, although he didn't mean for that to happen. He had meant for it to be a simple question, honest. But he already knew the answer – he just didn't want to face the truth.

He was a mage... a mage who had a thing for cats. This all seemed so very familiar.

"Listen," Reks began. "Before you tell me about your familiar, I have to ask you something." Reks looked him dead in the face. "And its—it's a serious question, okay? So don't laugh or anything, but..." He hesitated, uncomfortable, shifting on his feet. "You've never... tried to turn anyone into a cat, have you?"

His question was dead serious, and so was the expression on his face, despite how nonsensical the question seemed.

What a terrible liar Reks was, and he wasn't very good at keeping his secrets very secret. So the guy purred, too. Nothing to be ashamed of, unless he did it around women or people that weren't aware of his condition. Now that Monnayage knew, he felt that he wouldn't be as embarrassed were he to suddenly start purring.

<We could start a little band,> he said to Maneki, who had settled herself down on one of Reks' feet, licking her paws. She looked to him when he spoke and blinked at him. Her nose jerked up into the air.

<That doesn't sound dignified at all,> she said, then went back to her licking, tail twitching behind her.

He'd thought it was a funny idea. The three of them standing out in the streets and purring to the beats of songs. With some practice he was sure it was possible. They could make some money by it!

There was a noticeable change in Reks' behavior when Monnayage mentioned being a mage; Reks went back to looking tense, alarmed. And his following words sounded accusing, as if Monnayage carried a plague. He listened to and watched this change with bemusement.

"Why, yes. I'm a mage. Not a powerful one, but--what?" He stared.

Turn someone into a cat? The blond would have laughed if his friend didn't look so darned serious. What had brought this on, anyway? Did he look like a guy that turned others into cats? There was the temptation to jest that Maneki had once been a lover of his, but no. He didn't have the heart. Not when Reks looked at him like . . . like he'd run over a beloved pet with a wagon.

Monnayage cleared his throat to stop any laughs that might want to bubble up, covering his mouth with a closed fist. "No. No I haven't. I don't have that kind of magic. And even if I did, I wouldn't really see the point in such a thing. One cat is enough." Maneki glared at him. "Why would you ask that, anyway? You know a person that's been turned into a cat?"

There was a hint of a smile bubbling on Mon's features, and Reks hoped to god that he wasn't laughing at him. It was a serious question, damnit! The tips of his ears twitched again, and he crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. It was good to know, at the very least, that Mon hadn't turned anyone into a cat... and for some reason, Reks trusted that he was telling the truth. He didn't seem like the type of mage that went around zapping people, but, one could never be sure nowadays. Better safe than sorry.

At Mon's question, Reks toyed with the tip of his ear, looking left and right, not really sure how to start. "Uh...yeah. Me. Kind of." His sentences were mere fragments, words chopped up, just like his memories of the islands — they were mere pieces that swam in his head now, a history that he did not want to look back on, or ever recall. "A while back, a witch put a curse on me that's supposed to eventually turn me into a cat— ah, panther — when I get angry. The ears are the result of me being pissed off one too many times."

He let his hands drop to his sides. Somehow, he had relayed the information so unceremoniously, as if he had been discussing the weather, or talking about the soup of the day. It was the first time anyone had bothered to ask about the curse, and it was the first time he had ever admitted to someone that he was broken. He took a deep breath, teetering on the edge of saying more, wondering if Mon even cared about this sort of thing, or whether he should just shut up, stop talking.

Something possessed him to roll up the sleeves of his cloak — sleeves which were a little longer than necessary, which hid the tattoos that decorated his arms. They were intricate, done up in black ink, swirling and twisting up towards his elbows. "As a joke, she branded me with these, too. They put me in a constant state of pain — makes it easier for me to get angry, which is—" He paused to laugh — at the situation, at himself, "all the time, pretty much."

Except now, for whatever reason.

"I guess— I just don't have the best history with mages."

Understatement of the century, Reks. He rolled his sleeves back down, hiding the tattoos, and was tempted to pull his hood back over his head — to hide the curse, hide the shame that came with it. He wasn't sure how it happened — how he put himself out there, made himself vulnerable to this guy, Monnayage, but it had, somehow. He could only hope that he wasn't coming across as whiny. Reks, the delinquent, the mercenary — the last thing he needed to be perceived was as a brat.

"You?" Monnayage stared. He looked Reks up and down once more, seeing him in a whole new light. Was he telling him that he was a cat?

But he wasn't. Monnayage could see that. Could smell that. He of all people knew what a cat smelled--

The mage blinked his blue eyes, head tilting at a curious angle, much like a cat's. A curse. So he'd been serious. That would explain the strange magical smell on him that made Monnayage's nose itch.

Interesting.

Now his new friend had all of his attention. Monnayage was a very inquisitive creature, and he could not overlook this piece of information. What an unusual curse. What an exceptionally intriguing bit of news!

"So . . ." He looked to the ground, head still cocked. "Say I were to . . . poke you with a stick over and over again. You might sprout a tail?" At this a wicked grin spread across his face, the thought far too amusing. He would have done it, too, if he hadn't developed such a liking for this guy, who clearly would not appreciate such an act.

To shake off what he'd said and show it'd been nothing more than a joke, he quickly added, "And I guess she didn't expect a flaw showing up first thing in her plan." The ears. Reks might have looked to them as a plague on his person, but Monnayage saw clear benefit in them. It almost made him laugh. The first things to show up from the curse and they just happened to be something that could halt it!

And then Reks lifted his sleeves and all Monnayage could do was stare some more. There was the terrible desire to go up and touch them--who wouldn't want to? They traveled to his elbow in an elaborate pattern that the finger could trace.

He held back, though, which surprised even himself.

"Sorry to hear that, friend," he said, putting his head back at a normal angle. "For both your pain and your bad luck with mages. But!" He cheered. "She was only one mage. We're not all like that. If you haven't noticed, I happen to be a very friendly, kind, respectful, handsome--"

<Do spare us the dishonest recitation,> Maneki said in some amusement, still sitting on Reks' foot.

"Charming mage," he finished with a flourish. "If," he added with a glance at his cat, "also not a bit annoying and full of himself. But that just makes me all the more lovable, no?"