“Wait, he’s…how old?” I ask, scritching his chin.
Oscar chitters.
“Approximately seven-hundred and forty.”
“Oh…kay.” I sigh.
I thought the big bombs were over. Apparently not.
“His people are shape shifters, but something about this realm dampened their magic. It was strongest in the Highlands, so that was where they settled.”
“Sorry, interrupting again. He has a person form?” I ask, suddenly aghast that I’d been naked in front of himmanytimes.
Oscar makes a few meows and Bastian nods.
“He doesn’t know. His forms have always been limited to a few, and mainly feline.”
Well, scratch that then. Or should I not? Is it still weird if he understands what nudity is? Oscar looks at me with his big, round eyes, then lifts his leg and licks his butt.
“Ew, not on the table!” I tell him.
He stops mid-lick and meows.
Bastian laughs. “He was trying to make you feel more comfortable.”
I groan. “Are you both likefeelingdetectors or something?”
Oscar mews and Bastian seesaws his head.
Great.
“May I continue?”
I blow out a huge breath and sit back in my chair. “Go for it.”
“His people were hunted by the native men, hounds, and wolves, depleting their numbers over the years. Finally, his leader decided it was too dangerous for them to stay together. To survive, they would have to take on more acceptable forms and live among humans.
“Oscar lived in London for a while as a plague-rat hunter and discovered that being orange made him much more lovable. He was well cared for, and very capable. When ships started sailing for the Americas, he decided to take work aboard one as a ratter and make a new life here.
“He spent years in many different homes but lived too long at a few homes that he loved quite dearly and was determined to be some kind of devil spawn. He learned to ‘die’ around sixteen years after that, sooner if he wasn’t enjoying his host family.”
Bastian finishes and I find myself petting Oscar idly.
“Is this okay?” I ask.
“Merer mmmgg.”
“He says to please not treat him any differently than you used to.”
“Okay but what about thissoulcollection?” I ask.
“It’s how his kind advance. They are long-lived and the more magical essence of others they collect, the stronger they can become,” he says. “Consider it a form of cultivation.”
“I see…but you don’t take still living people’s souls, do you?” I ask Oscar.
He blinks slowly andmurfs.
“He can’t—not yet, at least. He’s not powerful enough,” Bastian says.
