[Mogget, of no fixed abode, has not woken up to find anything scrawled anywhere that might pertain to him. Or perhaps he did, and he simply didn't care to pay any attention to it.
He appears in the way that he always does, as if out of nowhere and lightly winding his way between Sabriel's ankles. The cat sits, regards the writing with slightly narrowed green eyes, then turns his attention to cleaning one small, pink-padded paw. The bell at his throat rings gently, and he pauses to yawn, speaking around it in a soft yowl.]
rage;
[Mogget, of no fixed abode, has not woken up to find anything scrawled anywhere that might pertain to him. Or perhaps he did, and he simply didn't care to pay any attention to it.
He appears in the way that he always does, as if out of nowhere and lightly winding his way between Sabriel's ankles. The cat sits, regards the writing with slightly narrowed green eyes, then turns his attention to cleaning one small, pink-padded paw. The bell at his throat rings gently, and he pauses to yawn, speaking around it in a soft yowl.]
Or you could fix something over it.
[Why didn't you think of that, Sabriel?]