“I—” Ren’s mouth opened then snapped shut as a bronze flush bloomed across the bridge of their nose. They looked away, long lashes dusting the curve of their cheekbones, and grumbled, “Do whatever you want.”
“That’s the plan,” Pansy chirped, lowering the basket so that the kitten could hop out without plummeting the equivalent of several cat-sized stories.
Unfortunately, this didn’t seem to make much of a difference. The kitten clambered over the basket’s rim without any grace, somehow managing to trip over his own paws in the process.He tumbled out, landing in a fuzzy, flailing heap for all of half a second before he bounded upright, shook the dirt from his fur, and scampered off to explore parts heretofore unknown.
So much for “Don’t worry if he spends the first couple of days hiding”, Pansy thought with a laugh as the kitten tore across the living room, yowling all the way.
As much as she disliked the cottage’s present lack of furniture – something she planned to rectify as soon as she was able – Pansy couldn’t deny that, in this instance, it was probably for the best. In any appropriately furnished home, the kitten would’ve almost certainly crashed into something right out of the gate. For all that Blossom had insisted they were hardy little creatures, Pansy wasn’t ready to put that to the test just yet.
Either way, she needn’t have worried. The kitten abandoned his wild laps about the room soon enough, electing, instead, to bat at the ivy that framed a nearby window.
“Hey! You! Stop that!” Ren snapped, marching over to the kitten, now laid on his back, a single cord of ivy pinned between his front paws.
The kitten paused, yellow eyes nearly swallowed whole by the black of his pupils, focusing on Ren with an uncanny sort of awareness, as if he understood them. He didn’t, of course. But it nonetheless made the kitten’s decision to resume bunny-kicking his ivy prisoner less than a second later all the more hilarious – at least, from Pansy’s perspective.
“Aw. Look at him go.” She giggled. “How cute.”
“He’s not cute!” Ren snapped, whirling on her with a glare that could cut through glass. “He’s a menace!”
“And what exactly do you want me to do about it?” Pansy asked, cocking a brow. “I can hardly stand there holding theivy out of his reach all day. And even if I did, what’s to stop him from setting his sights on any of the other plants growing around here?”
“Pansy.”
“Oh, fine.” She huffed. “Don’t say I don’t do anything nice for you.”
And with that she scooped up the kitten, quick enough that surprise swept the ivy from his grasp, and deposited him in the one place guaranteed to annoy Ren just as much: the top of their head.
She grinned. “Better?”
“Ugh.” Shooting her one last festering look, Ren reached up to pluck the kitten from their scalp. However, unlike Pansy, they no longer had the luxury of surprise on their side, and so the kitten, unwilling to be manhandled a second time, sank his claws into Ren’s dark hair and tender skin alike.
It took all of half a second for Ren to admit defeat, releasing their hold on the kitten with a hiss and a grimace.
“Get. Him. Off. Of. Me,” Ren ground out between clenched teeth, every inch of them rigid as a board.
“But he seems so comfortable there! Plus, I thought you loved animals, Ren.”
“Not when they’re digging several tiny needles into my scalp!”
“You know,” Pansy said, unmoved by the accusation searing through Ren’s stare, “it’s probably for the best that he’s up there instead of on the ground. Cats apparently like to do their business in either dirt or sand. And who’s to say he’ll actually use a proper litter box when you’ve more or less advertised the entire house as a toilet.”
“What?” Ren’s eyes bulged. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am. Very much so. So, maybe you want to clean up a bit? I wouldn’t want todestroyanything of yours, given our agreement.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Ren’s stare narrowed. “You planned this,” they said, their voice thick with the sour drag of someone realizing they had been outplayed.
Pansy shrugged. In truth, she couldn’t take all the credit: Blossom had been the one to suggest she bring home the kitten. “Believe whatever you want,” she said. “Either way, my point still stands, meaning I’d get to sweeping if I were you. Itwasa pretty long walk back from Haverow.”
“This isn’t over,” Ren said with a scowl, jabbing a finger in Pansy’s direction before stalking out of the room. No doubt they’d wanted to appear intimidating, their words as much a threat as the gesture that had accompanied them. But the kitten, still sprawled across the top of their head like a fuzzy black hat, had rendered such a thing an impossibility. Instead, they only managed to look ridiculous.
Make that another point for me, Pansy thought with a grin, riding high on her latest victory as she retreated into the kitchen.
For once, she was utterly untouchable. Ren had lost, and she had won, and all that damnable dirt was finally going to be swept away! Truly, nothing could ruin this for her, not even a finicky oven primed to burn her cookies to a crisp.
Only, Pansy didn’t even get that far because she’d done it again: she’d forgotten the sugar.
The realization hit her partway through mixing her batter, well beyond the point of no return. Back when she’d lived in Haverow, this wouldn’t have been much of an issue. She could just pop out to the grocer and be back within half an hour – or bother Blossom for a cup if the grocer was already closed. Butout here in the forest, an hours-long walk from the village, the fact registered with stomach-plummeting devastation. Because no sugar meant no cookies, transforming the mixture sitting at the bottom of her metal bowl from a point of pride into a badge of shame. A waste.
