Meow Meow
There was a gust of wind that tore through the atmosphere, disrupting the soft peace, filled with idle chat that seemed to grace the air with gentleness, in much contrast to the two men out on the porch. The air was piercing cold, but the view ahead was soft yet mundane, a distant– very distant mountain range converting the mood to one of warmth and gentleness. It was nice, delicate, but real. It was reality, and even if this peace was short lived, the pair on the porch, the warmth of the house behind them, seemed to cherish it for what it was.
However, the delicate silence was interrupted with a crash and a meow.
“Cat?” Fyodor murmured, not in the least bit distraught.
The only reason Nikolai and Fyodor even owned a cat was to get rid of the mice problem. As cute as mice were to Fyodor, as cute as anything could be to the man, he didn’t exactly enjoy their presence in the house. Because of Fyodor’s growing annoyance with them, Nikolai offered to adopt a cat. Said cat, named Belle, was a bit of a troublemaker as much as she was helpful to the mice-riddance cause.
“Cat; most likely. Definitely.” was all Nikolai replied with, rising to his feet with a small sigh.
Fyodor watched as the other man disappeared into the house with the slide of the glass door, leaving behind his coffee on the table near his former spot that he happily took a swig of in his absence, holding the mug for only a fleeting moment to let it warm his fingertips. Despite Fyodor, in his rather bitter self, he enjoyed sweet things now and then; like Nikolai’s drowned with creamer and sweetener coffee that would probably be enough to cause diabetes if one were to have more than three cups of it in a day. Fyodor also enjoyed cherries, and it was something he often paired with chamomile tea as a refresher.
The russian’s gaze returned to the door once more as it scraped to the side in its place and Nikolai emerged with a cat in his arms.
“The daughter of man has returned,” he announced, a small smile on his lips that Fyodor, admittedly, would begrudgingly do anything to keep. “She decided it was a good idea to bring down a towel from the counter and whack a mouse with it.”
“Then we taught her well,” Fyodor commented with a small hum, watching as Nikolai set Belle down so he could sit and grab his coffee once again. He was well aware that Nikolai more than likely realized Fyodor had taken a sip for himself, but he didn’t comment on it.
Belle swiftly eased herself onto Fyodor’s lap, making her warm self comfortable and warming up Fyodor a bit in the process. The small ring of her collar was an addition to the newly remade calmness outside, the sound of the bell attached to it becoming the beginning of the mood reforming.
“Now, where were we?” Nikolai questioned, raising the coffee mug to his lips and taking a sip of it.
“I believe we were discussing field and border,” answered Fyodor, his gaze lowering to the gray cat in his lap and gently petting her and her fluffiness.