A strangled yelp answered him, followed by what sounded like something hitting the floor hard and an outraged feline noise. “****, IT’S OPEN! Ow,” Summer yelled.
Loki banged the door open and thrust his hands, full of a Cat limp as if he had no bones, at Summer.
“FIX him. He rolled in that foul green stuff and now he’s—he’s catatonic!”
She looked up from an uncomfortably sprawled position on the floor. “Ow. Why are you /punning/ at me.”
The silver tabby made a dart at the open door, and she lunged at the cat. “NO, Stormlight. Not in the city. Get inside before they all decide to leave!”
Loki pulled the door closed just in time, and scowled down at Summer.
“Why are you on the floor—get up and tell me what on earth is the matter with Macrowafter! I bought the catnip at your suggestion, if you recall!”
“I’m on the floor because the **** cat tripped me getting up to answer /your/ frantic knock, and there’s nothing /wrong/ with Cat if you gave him catnip!” Releasing Stormlight, Summer pushed herself up from the floor, struggling briefly against putting her hands on her own loose hair. “I’m going to cut it all off, I swear it.”
Yanking the strands into a quick lovers’ haste knot, she beckoned to Loki. “Give me Cat. He’s probably just stoned. Also, if you want my help, it really does work better to /ask/.”