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selenelavellan · 7 years

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Or how about Selene's thoughts to the whole finding out Marassal essentially baby-napped Dirthamen and that whole scene? I've been pretty curious about that.

I-I swear I thought I had written and posted Selenes response to this already, and was surprised to find that I definitely did not. Whoops. That’s on me.

Reincarnation AU

Marassal belongs to @scurvgirl

Dirthamen belongs to @feynites

It’s all a bit of a blur, really, whenMarassal enters her apartment.

There are donuts and Des latching ontoDesire for nourishment while the man she had met so long ago tellsher that he raised Dirthamen.

He’s not dead.

He was neverdead.

Oh, she could stranglehim.

He knew, she’s been alone and he’s beenhiding him away, he stole him, he stole their Dirthamen away forhimself-

“Selene?” Dirthamen calls,squeezing her shoulder just enough to drag her out of her thoughts.

“Sorry,” she murmurs while shenuzzles against him, arms encircling his waist to pull him closer.Selfish, on her part. But just for a few minutes, just for now, shewants to be selfish. It has been so long since she allowed it. Solong since she allowed herself near someone else.

“It is alright. Would you likeanother donut?”

“No thank you,” she mumbles againsthim.

He settles back again after that, andshe notes that Marassal is spending an unusual amount of time in herbathroom. Probably scoping her medicine cabinet and tutting at allthe extra prescriptions she’s not supposed to have. Not that most ofthem do much, but some of the stronger ones in large doseshelp her sleep. Or not sleep, depending on the situation.

It’s no business of his, anyways.

Still, Marassal eventually returns tothe living room, a smug smile on his face as he watches her cuddlefurther into Dirthamen.

Does he know?

Not entirely,Marassal explains.

Selenefrowns, tensing at the potential deception, but Dirthamens arm shiftsinto a more comfortable position, fingers brushing lightly againsther arm and she settles almost immediately, still starved forcontact.

Aproblem, really.

One you brought on yourself,Des gripes.

Technically, it’s Marassals faultfor faking Dirthamens death.

And it is your fault forhandling the changing of other peoples lives so poorly.

You’re being unusually upset aboutthis.

You nearly killed us, Selene. I didnot follow you for so long because I thought you gave up so easily.Besides that, Dirthamen is happy. Have you noticed? This isthe most well adjusted he has been since he was raised by Iphram andhis wife. And he knows how to care for us, already. No need to fretabout his discovery of our partnership, he already knows. This couldbe the start of a very promising idea.

You’re not really suggesting we askMarassal to raise him in each cycle, are you?

And why not? The largest problems wekeep encountering are raised from his terrible family. Here is achance to remove them from the equation entirely. No more Falon'din,or Andruil, or Mythal to deal with. No more opportunities forElgar'nan to abuse him, for June to berate him, or for Sylaise tosneer down at him. We could save him from his biggest threats beforethey ever have a chance to harm him.

Selene hesitates.It’s certainly an idea with some merits to it…but no.

We are not manipulating his lifethat way, Des. It is not our call.

You think Marassal will not want todo this again, anyways? He is happy, as well. If he has thechance to raise Dirthamen again in the future, we both know he’lltake it. All I’m suggesting is that we look the other way when hedoes.

Selene grimaces atthe thought. She used to spend her free time fighting against theworst of the magisters, and now she’s discussing with a demon thepossibility of repeatedly tearing someone away from their family,purposely. Because it suits them.

No, Des. Sheorders.

He just sighs, andsettles reluctantly, refocusing on Dirthamens presence while Selenedrags herself back to the surface.

“We need to havea discussion, later,” She warns Marassal as he leans against theopening to her kitchen.

“That’s a muchless threatening response than I was expecting,” he teases “I’llbe ready whenever you are.”

Dirthamen moves asthough to get up and Selenes hand reaches out to grab his shirtinstinctively.

He blinks downat her “I assumed you two needed privacy. It seemed obvious you didnot want me here for whatever it is you are planning to discuss.”

“I want youhere,” Selene strains. “Marass-Your father and I can talk later.I doubt he’s planning on going anywhere for some time.”

Marassal justsmiles and lets out a satisfied sigh when Dirthamen resettles on thefuton, and Selene readjusts so that her head is against his shoulder,and he’s in her arms again, where he should be.

She sighs incontentment, and idly wonders if it would be too much to ask him tomove in with her already.

Des reminds herthat their current home is awful and would probably make Dirthamensick if he stays here, and Selene reluctantly agrees.

She’ll find a newplace for them, then. Someplace close to his shop maybe.

Someplace new tocall home.

#Frat Reincarnation AU #Selene lavellan #Des #Marassal #Dirthalene #Dark Reincarnation AU #Thanks for the ask <3

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feynites · 6 years

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@selenelavellan said:

poor fear i laughed really hard at this though fear is one of those cats who's tried to claw a hole through the bathroom door 100% selene has talked to eight different vets about her cats anxiety issues nothing has helped she'd have to bring them in and fear is never going to get into a carrier lbh they'd shift first 'NO NOPE IM NOT GOING IN THERE'

Much as I also like the idea of Fear giving them away, this went in a slightly different direction.

But hopefully still good! So have some more Cat Shenanigans:

Fear can tell that Selene is trying to get them to go into the Trap Box again.

They have reports from the others on what happens when one gets inside, and is successfully closed-in. The first time the Trap Box appeared, Affection had rushed into with their usual eagerness, happy to find a new blanket and a toy in the back. Selene had closed them into the box, though, and taken them away - much to everyone’s distress.

But Affection had returned a little more than an hour later, speaking of a trip and a strange place that smelled of many terrible things, but that hadn’t, Affection insisted, ‘been bad’. There had been another woman who had seemed to examine the health of Affection’s feline body, and had proclaimed them hale.

The next to be taken in the box was Des, who elected himself to go. Des’ accounts were mostly the same, but Fear was not satisfied that these excursions were wise. It seemed like too many things could go wrong. What if the Trap Box was stolen from Selene? What if the Vetarinian proved treacherous? What if Falon’Din came back while one of them was trapped and unable to defend themselves from him?

The Trap Box was too small and tight, turning into a larger form while inside it would not work. And the mesh bars at the front, and the air slits at the sides, were too small for even the tiny mouse shape that Fear could take, in a pinch.

It was not safe.

The others decided to go, against Fear’s cautioning. Even Deceit ultimately went, giving in for the sake of their favourite treat - dried salmon pieces - and visiting this Vetarinian.

Fear had hoped that would be the end of it.

But Selene keeps making attempts. So far she has tried toys, treats, and several tricks, including hiding the Trap Box in Fear’s closet and attempting to disguise it. When she pulls it from the front hall closet and sets it down onto the living room floor, Fear opts to retreat to the space at the top of the bookcase with some haste. Last time, Selene had gotten so far as to wrap them in a towel, and had nearly gotten them into the Trap Box before Fear had gone limp and shifted their shape just enough to slide out of her grip and out of the towel as well.

Selene had stopped trying for a while after that, when she got Fear trembling in their behind-the-television hiding place afterwards. Instead she had spent several days imploring them to look less betrayed.

“I know, I know, you hate the crate,” she says at them, gently. “But it’s not so bad! The others did fine, didn’t they?”

Fear hisses.

Selene sighs.

“Alright, I guess there’s nothing left but to do this the hard way…” she mutters to herself.

Fear does not like the sounds of that.

“Please don’t hate me,” Selene asks.

Fear also does not like the sounds of that.

Selene leaves, and fetches the towel. The towel. The thick one that makes scratching difficult. Fear determines that the top of the bookshelf is not an ideal defense post, and makes a run for it. The bedroom window was open the last they checked, but it is closed now. They make their way under the bed; it is always hardest to catch them there, because Selene cannot reach from one side to the other, so Fear can simply move any time she gets too close, without leaving their cover. They call for Deceit, who makes a mental sigh but then offers to get into the Trap Box instead. But Selene shoo’s Deceit back out - not satisfied with that, apparently. She brings the Trap Box into the bedroom, and then she does the unthinkable.

She calls Marassal up from the store, and into the private living space.

Fear does not realize it until they see the familiar bare feet and ankle bracelets appear alongside Selene’s at the doorway to the bedroom.

No! Now there are two elves to contest with! Their plan did not account for that. Fear weighs the odds, the bed no longer being an ideal defensible position, and decides to make a bolt for it. The door to the shop might be open, and the shop has many more ideal spaces to hide in. They rush the bedroom door, but they aren’t anticipating Marassal’s reflexes. Or that he has a towel as well.

Foolish. Foolish of them.

The heavy, thick fabric engulfs Fear before they can reach the door, and they panic.

It is almost a blessing. If Fear had been thinking rightly, they might have changed shape, which would have blown their cover and ruined everything. But in the moment, they are too overcome to manage even that much logic. And so they hiss and yowl and try to scratch and bite instead, finding only thick, treacherous towel fabric around them, before they are shoved into the Trap Box.

The swing of the door closing is like ice in their veins.

“It’s okay!” Selene says. “It’s okay, you’re okay, it’s alright-”

Fear shakes, and tries to think of a solution to this horrifying turn of events. This disaster. They are going to get cornered in here. Falon’Din is coming for them. The Vetarinian will vivisect them, like Ghilan’nain. The box will be stolen and someone will throw it into a river and Fear will not be able to get out, no, this is not good!

Selene thanks Marassal, and then returns to cooing gently at them as she picks up the Trap Box.

“It’s alright, easy, you’re okay,” she tells them again.

Fear meows back plaintively. Perhaps if they can appeal to her better nature, she will let them out?

Please let them out!

Selene’s expression through the bars looks as though it is wavering.

She presses one of Fear’s favourite treats through a side slot instead, though. The offering may as well be dust to Fear, who hunches themselves towards the back of the box, and breathes heavily. Deceit begins to meow plaintively too, and then Dirthamen. After a minute even Des joins in, following Selene as she starts to make her way towards the door.

“I know, guys, I know, but it’ll be fine. We’ll be back in no time, okay? Then you’ll all be checked out and chipped and that’s safer for everyone.”

Safer?

What about this is safe?!

“Trust me,” Selene asks.

Fear stares up at her uncertainly through the box’s slats.

They… they do trust her, they suppose. To an extent. She saved Dirthamen, after all, and she is a good elf. She gives them things and looks after them. It is not that Fear distrusts her, or thinks she has bad intentions. It is just that… so much can go wrong. And she does not have all of the facts. They do not know why she thinks this would make them ‘safer’…

Maybe Fear does not have all the facts, either.

They try.

It is very hard to no be afraid. Fear does not succeed, but they focus on breathing steadily and watching everything they can see through the front door of the cage. Selene carries them back down to the shop, walking with Marassal, and then says goodbye to him. He wishes her luck as she takes Fear out onto the street. The day is sunny but not too warm. The outdoor scents are typical, but it is a very strange experience, to be publicly carried down the main roads. Selene takes Fear to a bench, and offers them a few more treats. She makes gentle noises and insists that everything is going well, but Fear does not like the loud transport machine that roars up towards them after several minutes. It smells of death, and is full of strangers. Selene puts a towel down over the door of the Trap Box, so that Fear does not see the bevy of elves around them. But they can still sense things.

They can still hear the jangle of a collar, too, the distinctive sound of a noise sniffing nearby. One of Selene’s hands settles over the vent slit one the far side of the box.

“Excuse me, sorry, but my cat’s a little anxious. Could you keep your dog from getting too close?”

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s friendly!”

“Yes, I’m sure he is. It’s just that my cat’s anxious…”

“Off to the vet?”

“Mmhmm. Could you-”

“We’re going to the groomers ourselves, and then to the new dog park they opened on fifty-second-”

“Great.”

The Trap Box moves, and Selene settles both arms around it, as Fear feels her put it onto her lap instead. They try to see what they can through the slits in the sides, and spy a small dog with a sparkly collar, and an older woman who keeps talking blithely about play dates and asking Selene if she’s a ‘cat person’ or just in animal lover in general. Selene hedges an answer, while someone else coughs and the monstrous transport rumbles, and Fear counts at least a half dozen threats and only gets more stressed at not being able to assess them all.

It seems to take them a small eternity to make whatever trip they are on. Fear can feel every frantic thump of their heart, but eventually, they move again. Selene removes the towel from the front of the Trap Box, and carries them out of the wretched machine and onto an unfamiliar sidewalk, with lots of green grass beside it.

“Fucking…” she mutters to herself. “Keep your damn dog away from my cat, is that so hard? ‘Oh he’s friendly!’ Well that’s not the point you self-centered dumbass…”

There is a bit more muttering before Selene switches tones and then starts assuring Fear that everything will be fine, and that they have arrived at their destination. The building she carries them too does, indeed, smell awful. It smells of the things Selene uses to keep her bathroom clean, and like too many other animals. There is barking coming from inside, which Selene assures Fear is ‘fine’. They can only watch with wide eyes as they are carried into this, the realm of the Vetarinian. Vetarinia, they would presume.

Many spirits whisper that this is a place where animals come to die.

Fear is not a real animal, but that is still greatly concerning, for obvious reasons.

Fear watches as they enter a strange room. The barking seems to be coming from another one. There is a counter, almost like the one at the shop. But perhaps more like a desk? Selene approaches it, and gives her name to a young elf behind it, saying that she has the ‘two thirty’. The young elf says it will just be another ten minutes, because the ‘doctor’ is with another difficult patient. Selene thanks them and then carries Fear over to a row of seats, and sits down with the Trap Box in her lap again.

From where they are positioned, Fear can see the door, but not much else. They watch, vigilant. Waiting to see what will happen next. After a few minutes, the door swings open, and a vashoth woman enters. She has a young child with her, and a smaller Trap Box in her arms. There is a turtle printed onto the exterior of the box. The child looks around the room, and then spots Fear.

“Kitty!” he exclaims.

He moves as if to rush them. Fear retreats to the back of the box, the only possible defensive position. A child is not a danger but they have no recourse, here, even to unintended harm. Before the boy can charge over to them, though, his mother grasps his arm and pulls him back to her side.

“No, remember?” she admonishes gently. “Some animals here are sick, sweetheart, we have to use our quiet voices.”

The little boy looks chastened, but also like he would still enjoy running over very much. Selene puts the towel back over the door, then. Which almost makes it worse, as Fear cannot see what is happening, cannot tell if anything worse might be coming. There is a shuffling sound, and then Selene seems to drape herself over the top of the box, too. Or, no - that is her sweater, Fear realizes. She must have taken it off and draped it over, shrouding them in darkness.

Leaving more of her own skin exposed.

That is not good.

But it does make the box smell slightly more of Selene, and less of the room around them. They hear a childish voice pipe up, asking if he can see the kitty, but Selene gently informs him that Fear is very anxious to be at the vet and is too scared to play with right now. The little boy talks avidly about his turtle, who is getting a ‘check-up’. Then something thumps at the box, and his small voice rings out in assurance that everything is going to be fine.

His mother apologizes.

“It’s okay,” Selene says, before letting out a long breath. “Of course,” she says, more quietly, afterwards. “The one time I bring you, it’s all kids and dogs, it couldn’t just be chinchillas like it was last time…”

There is the sound of a door opening, then.

A scrambling of paws on smooth floor and loud barking, heavy breathing, like a beast the size of a small dragon has just erupted into the room.

“Oh no, Lady!”

The Trap Box is rocked as something massive attacks! Fear hears the breaths so close that for a moment, they think the box is being swallowed whole. They yowl in alarm, digging in their claws and summoning up some magic, before they are jostled again.

“SERIOUSLY?!” Selene exclaims.

“I’m so sorry, miss, she’s friendly I promise, she’s just excitable! Purebred mabaris, you know, they’re too smart for their own good and they have all this energy when they’re young. She’s still just a year old-”

“GET HER OFF!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay, I’ve got her. She won’t bite. Come on, Lady, let’s go…”

Fear has no direction for their magic, yet. No target. But just as they’re about to blast the towel off of the door, so they can find one, the attack seems to come to an end. The scrambling claws are drawn further away. Barking becomes whining. The stranger jokes that ‘Lady’ must be very interested in whatever Selene has with her, while Selene suddenly goes back to saying calming things. She lefts the sweater and smiles down at Fear through the visible slat.

“It’s okay!” she tells them. “We’re okay! Just a lot of visitors. Like at the shop!”

Fear trembles. Ready for anything, now, but only in the worst way.

“Selene?” Another stranger calls. “You can come in now!”

“Thank fuck,” Selene murmurs. They move again, but Fear cannot see anything, now. They are just trapped in the dark box, jostling slightly with Selene’s steps. Until they are settled onto some kind of surface. Then the towel is taken from the door again, and a stranger peers at them. Elven. Smiling. The Vetarinian, they suspect. She makes a soft coo sound.

“Oh, poor thing. You’re terrified, hm? Let’s get this over with quick then.”

Fear tries to make themselves as small a target as possible.

The door to the Trap Box is opened.

Another trap, they think. They are meant to take the opening, and come out. But if they don’t, then they are an easy target, too. There is no way to evade anything in the box. They only have one chance, then. They bolt through the opening, only to be foiled again by the towel. The strange elf picks them up. Fear hisses in protest, struggling, but they have a very firm grip. Selene is nearby, saying something. They cannot hear it over the roar of blood in their ears, as they brace themselves and wonder if they will have to transform in order to attack…

The Vetarinian settles them onto a smooth surface.

Selene speaks with the Vetarinian. The towel is removed. Fear has troubles keeping track of what is said, as they focus keenly on how the stranger is moving, and try to find places to hide or escape to in the odd room with its silver floors and tan counters. Fear is poked and prodded and has lights shined on them, they do not like it; when Selene moves to hold them, they latch onto her. Consolidating them into a single defensive unit, so that if or when they need to use magic to summon a barrier or offensive spell, Fear can protect them both. They Vetarinian has brisk, firm hands, covered by gloves. Fear sinks their claws into Selene’s shirt, and dislikes it most when their mouth is opened and their teeth and gums examined.

“You should put them down, they might bite like this when I put in the needle,” the Vetarinian says.

Needle?

What needle?!

Fear summons up dim recollections of the others recounting a single, small puncture wound. Though they had not seemed to suffer ill-affects, Fear might be an exception. Something could go awry. Needles are dangerous, they have seen it on the Light Box!

“It’s fine,” Selene says. “They don’t bite.”

“Well…”

“I’ll deal with it.”

“Hold their head, at least.”

Selene pets their head, and Fear turns as they hear something crinkling open. They do not see the needle. They feel something prick at their back, like an errant claw or a bug. When they hiss, though, the pain withdraws. Their claws sink into Selene’s bra straps, and her petting increases.

“Good job,” she tells them. “Good job, what a good cat you are…”

Fear glares at the Vetarinian, and refuses to be dislodged from where they have secured themselves against Selene.

“Well, this one seems as healthy as all the others,” the stranger proclaims. “But based on what you’ve described, I think you’re right about it being Feline Anxiety. It’s not uncommon, even among cats who haven’t been strays. I’m going to give you a prescription…”

Fear’s ears are so flat against their head that when the Vetarinian turns, they have troubles hearing them any further. They move towards a Light Box, and type in something that is printed out, like a receipt, except larger. Selene tries to coax Fear back into the Trap Box, which they are not going to do. They tear several holes into her shirt before she decides to put the sweater on over both of them instead. The warm, Selene-smelling fabric settles over Fear’s back, but leaves their head to peer up from the collar. Selene wraps an arm securely around them, and tells the Vetarinian she will ‘sort them out’, when the other woman asks if she would like assistance.

Selene puts the large Prescription Receipt into her purse. She carries in and the Trap Box in her free hand, and then they go back out into the room they were in before. The little vashoth boy stares at Fear, while Selene makes some kind of transaction with the young elf behind the counter. At least until he and his mother and their turtle-box are summoned into the room. Then Selene carries Fear back outside.

It is less harrowing to travel when they are not trapped.

Fear closes their eyes as they settle onto the bench. Selene rubs their back through the sweater, and whispers apologies, and insists that they are a very good cat who is very brave and who will not have to do that again. She makes one more attempt to get them back into the Trap Box before another rumbling, monstrous transport comes, but Fear does not think that is a good idea. They keep their claws firmly embedded in her bra straps.

Selene takes them onto the transport in her sweater instead. The driver protests that Fear should be in the Trap Box, but Selene assures him that they will keep a firm hand on Fear and after some cajoling, they are not waylaid further. The transport seems emptier this time, too. Fear keeps a watchful lookout, as the streets go by through the window.

Somehow, they manage to make it home without any further attacks.

As soon as they are in the shop, Fear lets go of Selene and runs off to find a good hiding spot. They climb up one of the tall bookshelves and wedge themselves into a shadow at the top, near the back wall of the most quiet part of the store. Selene talks with Marassal briefly, then goes upstairs. The others come down, eager to see Fear. Deceit launches themselves up the shelves and nuzzles at them, while Affection meows protests because they cannot climb so high. Dirthamen and Des remain at the bottom, too, simply checking. Listening as Fear describes the harrowing journey.

Huh, Des says. That sounds much more interesting than when I went.

Lucky me, Fear drawls.

Selene comes back, then, and has a new toy and a small dish full of Fear’s favourite tuna. The fresh kind. They are wary of another trap, though, and do not come down. When Selene sets the dish down, and moves away from it a little, Affection eats the tuna. Selene scolds them, then sighs and tosses the toy up to Fear. Or attempts to. It slips and falls back to the floor with a soft jangle, only to be scooped up by Des.

Selene scolds Des, too, but he carries the offering up and puts it with Fear and Deceit, and then Selene makes her sounds for when she thinks they are being endearing instead.

Fear stays up on top of the bookshelf until it is closing time. They come down, reluctantly, with some cajoling from Deceit, but then dash swiftly back up the stairs and into the apartment. Rushing to their best lookout post in their closet, with its view of the bedroom window. They skip dinner, having no desire to eat right now. After a few hours, Selene comes and sets their bowl of food down in front of the closet, and sits on the edge of her bed.

“Come on,” she says. “We’re back home, it’s alright. Come have dinner!”

Fear declines.

Selene is being unusually persistent, however. She scoops Affection up when they try and eat Fear’s dinner, and cuddles them in her lap instead. Then she does the same to Dirthamen, too - not that he seemed intent on eating Fear’s food anyway.

She sighs when Deceit comes in, and admonishes them not to eat Fear’s food. Deceit just clambers up to the top of the closet, though.

Just eat, they suggest to Fear.

Not interested.

She’s going to worry if you don’t. Living things eat food every day.

I ate this morning.

Deceit subsides, with a mental sigh. Fear presses firmly against their side, and waits for Selene to give up.

Eventually she does. She takes the bowl of food and announces that it is Fear’s food, and that they can have it whenever they come down. Then she goes into the living room, to watch the last half of her favourite show. Fear remains at their post, and listens to the distant murmur of the Light Box, as Deceit opts to stay with them for now. Des and Affection play; Dirthamen, presumably, is in his usual spot on Selene’s lap.

Fear listens, but after a while they find they are twitchy with not seeing. Still too highly-strung. They jump down, Deceit trailing after them, and make their way into the living room. Their tail swishes with lingering agitation. They have scarcely ensconced themselves in their Living Room Lookout post, though, before Selene nudges Dirthamen off of her lap and gets up. She comes back a moment later, though, with Fear’s food. They blink as she settles it on top of the bookcase with them.

Persistent, they tsk.

Told you, Deceit replies.

Fear sighs, and makes their own capitulation. They keep one eye on the living room as they eat. The food is good. More of their favourite tuna, in fact. There is part of it that they dislike, though, which is a small white seed. Chalky, oddly sweet on their tongue. Fear spits it out into a corner of their dish, and finishes the tuna. When they are done, Selene comes and retrieves the empty bowl.

She sighs at the chalky seed.

“I guess that was a long shot, huh?”

Fear does not know what she means. But after a moment, they suppose they can reciprocate the gesture. They know what it is like to be worried, after all. So they inch forward, and press their nose to her hand. Selene pauses, and then pets at their head. Fear nuzzles her palm. They know she did her best to keep them safe. Harrowing as that experience was… she succeeded, too.

At least, provided that the prick of pain in their back was not some kind of long-acting flesh-devouring curse that will destroy them slowly over the coming months.

They they withdraw closer to the wall again, and consider that possibility as they wait for bedtime to come.

#dirthalene #cat au #long post #deceit probably shifts the second time #they're reasonable enough and startled enough that they went with it for the first round #but maybe their medication doesn't work and selene's worried that they're not eating enough #and the vet's like 'alright bring them back for more tests it could be something serious'#so selene is like 'oh FUCK' but also she doesn't want Fear to die of like kitty cancer or something #just because she couldn't get them into the carrier #marassal bows out this time fear is a terrifying beast and if not for the towel he's pretty sure he would be dead #or at least scarred #and fear is NOT HAVING IT SELENE NO WE ARE NOT GOING BACK TO THE EVIL MAD SCIENTIST #NO NO NO NO NO #and when she gets them into the towel again they panic /less/ but still enough that they turn into a bird #for some reason i'm really taken with the idea of fear going from cat to bird before elf #because that's just... that's almost even more bizarre?!?!#IS THAT HER CAT WHY ARE THEY A BIRD NOW ???

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