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Deme's mind often felt like a fragile tapestry, threads fraying at the edges, threatening to unravel completely. His grip on reality was tenuous at best, a delicate balance he struggled to maintain. The pressures of his position, the constant vigilance required, and the ever-present threat of enemies both seen and unseen weighed heavily on him. In these moments of vulnerability, he found solace in small, seemingly insignificant things. His 33 cats, each with its own unique personality, provided a grounding presence. They were his confidants, his silent companions in a world that often felt overwhelming. The simple act of caring for them, ensuring their comfort and safety, gave him a sense of purpose and normalcy amidst the chaos.

Deme appreciated Mal all the more for putting up with Deme’s cat obsession, especially since the man was unfortunately allergic to them, though Deme would often joke that one day perhaps he would discover an arcane magical cure for the malady that put an end to the affliction once and for all. This thought brought a small smile to his face as they reached the North desk.

Here we are, Deme said, crouching down to look for any sign of Mr. Jenkins. Let's hope our search is short-lived so we can enjoy that brandy and some entertainment. Then Deme paused and looked over at Mal. Hmmm, well it wasn’t what I had in mind at first, but I suppose there is something to be said for having some enjoyable pursuits come to our home instead of us having to go to the enjoyable pursuits. He reflected, then had an aha look on his face as he retrieved Mr. Jenkins from under the desk.

Found it! he exclaimed, holding up the stuffed mouse triumphantly. Now, let's get Saxton settled and move on to more enjoyable pursuits. He handed the toy to the cat, giving Mal a satisfied nod.

@Malachai Valentius