Sylvie

Sylvie had had a very long day of sleeping, playing with her friends, and lounging in the sunlight. Now the evening was winding down, her friends had gone home, and many of the customers in the tavern had closed their tabs and gone home or gone upstairs to the inn to close the night. 

Sylvie yawned, stretched, and then moved from the window sill to the bar. She jumped onto the countertop, where she let out a long yell. Almost immediately, her call was answered by the two innkeepers, her loving parents. 

When they reached her, Sylvie butted her head against their hands and purred, her tail swishing back and forth in the air. 

“Oh!” The two cooed, “Sylvie, sweet kitten, what do you need?”

It was a silly question. She trilled at them and then stretched out, her claws pointing in the direction of the drawer under the bar. 

“Oh, I think I know what she wants,” her papa said. He went around to unlock the drawer. Ever since Leon figured out which drawer the treats were, he’d started to prise open the drawer with his little paws. Though he could steal them pretty easily, Leon was a Cleric, not a rogue, by nature, so he never hid his tracks very well. To keep further theft from happening, the lock was a necessity. 

When Sylvie heard the drawer open, her eyes widened and her tail began to twitch from side to side. 

“That must be what it is. Look at her, getting so excited.” Sylvie’s mama stroked between Sylvie’s ears.

Her papa shook a few treats into his hands. Sylvie couldn’t contain her excitement: She meowed more loudly, rubbing into her mama’s hand to confirm that yes, this was what she wanted, what she had been waiting for all this time. 

“I dunno,” he said, handing a couple to his partner. “I could use a treat myself. Couldn’t you?”

Sylvie tilted her head as her parents’ smiles turned devious.

Her mama nodded. “Mmhm, I sure could.” 

And then, to Sylvie’s surprise–to her horror–her papa moved the treats toward his mouth. She hopped up to her feet. No! Those were meant for her! She put her tiny paws on her papa’s chest and tried to swipe it before it was too late. But then, he made a dramatic gulping sound. 

“Oh, no, Sylvie, I’m going to eat these next.” Her mama lifted a couple more toward her mouth. 

Sylvie was aghast. She went from her papa to her mama, hoping to catch even one treat before it was too late. But everytime, the gulping told her she was too late. She gave a plaintive “Mawr!” in distress. 

Her parents giggled and laid the treats out on the table. Despite what she’d seen, not one was missing. Relieved, she promptly pounced on them. 

“Silly kitten,” her papa smiled, stroking her back. 

As she ate, it occurred to Sylvie that her parents must be wizards. How else could they have pulled off such a trick?