25 Frost 120
When Mino had been given his task for the day, he’d been given very specific instructions. Mostly pertaining to just obtaining the statue. That it had to be — the statue. But he’d not be told much about pieces of parchment with numbers on it. He remained the uninterested cat, head on his paws now that his yowling was for not. The other studied the paper almost the same as he did from a distance. Whatever he thought was connected to it, he must not have seen value. Or maybe he was not someone versed in the alternative uses for things such as these. If the statue held the paper, it would explain why Lady Blue had even entertained the client with getting the statue in the first place.He huffed, turning his head the other way as the Avialae spoke. The scent of flames reached him quick. Not hard, since they were trapped in a stone dome. His pupils dilated, gears in his head churning as he turned toward the winged man’s hand to see the paper hanging over the flames. If this was what Lady Blue truly had wanted — then he would need to get that back.
But to the wizard bird, he was a cat. Perhaps not a dumb one, and maybe bigger than the average, but a cat all the same. A cat drawn to a shiny statue. His tail flicked in time with his ears, swiveling to see if he could catch sound outside of the stone dome they were in. It was an odd feeling, isolation. Even in the cages he’d been put in before, they weren’t like this. Even if he was in the presence of another, he felt — alone. He blinked, pupils constricting. His tail flicked again and his attention returned to the bird.
Obviously, the other could contain a fire. Obviously, the other had seen some point in chasing after him. He wasn’t just some good citizen. There were none like that in Kalsazi. His face didn’t give much away, just an unwavering stare that lingered on the statue. It shone in the light of the fire. And then he looked to the bars.
They weren’t — they weren’t as small as his initial panic had him thinking. In fact, this was poorly planned on the part of the Avialae. While he might be big — bigger than the average cat — was still a cat. And he’d squeezed his way through his share of small openings over the years. He sniffed at the bars once more, butted his head against it. All he needed was a singular moment and maybe the other would let his guard down. Then, a sleight of hand. Err, paw.
