Some months ago, Vivvienne crafted a stuffed animal object for me, a white cat with black nose and golden eyes. She had constructed something similar for one of Whiteclaw’s children. I was impressed and also desired one. He assisted by making the request on my behalf.
Yesterday, she inquired as to the wear on it, in case it needed repair. I informed her that the cat was no longer inanimate. It is a living kitten. It has, in fact, waged war on my toes on several occasions and steals my leather gloves to hide away beneath the furniture. D.A. intervenes whenever I become agitated with it. The blasted thing knows how to absolve itself of all wrongdoing with one appealing expression.
Despite its bad manners, I am still very pleased to have it, and it seemed that Vivvienne was not upset with the strange news. I cannot describe adequately how it occurred because I do not understand the magic.
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