Helios lifted himself up to keep the prey in sight as it began to climb. The prey’s earlier canniness must have been an accident, because surely it could see that all he had to do was stand up to reach it. He didn’t even have to stretch! He peered at the prey, eyes narrowing — and the prey threw things at him!
Helios abandoned his post in great haste, even as momma came in to see what the noise was.
“What are you doing, silly kitty? Making a mess?”
He twined her legs, looking at the prey triumphantly. Momma would catch the prey now. Momma was smart, for a humin.
Summer stepped over to the bookshelf, frowning. “What /have/ you caught?” She reached out and grabbed the miniature nogitsune, holding him firmly by the back of his coat. “A faery?”
The Nogitsune yelped in surprise as he was lifted from his position. “Let me go, you filthy human,” he yelled out, trying to punch this human’s hand.
“A faery? Are you an imbecile?” he asked, offended by the human’s very insinuation that he was similar to the fae.
“I’m a thousand years old! I’m Void! Let me down!”
Summer lifted the struggling creature up to eyelevel, frowning at it. “Void, huh? Well, Void, this is my house, and those are my books you’re throwing around. I don’t care how old you are, don’t abuse my books.” Sitting down, she put the wee fox on the coffee table and studied him. “So you aren’t a faery. But you’re tiny. What /are/ you?”