Short Prologue! chapters will be longer, i promise.
The life of a cat isn't as simple as you humans may believe. You probably think I say that because I belong to a possessed Grey Warden apostate. But it was only recently I got to be back with him. No, I say that because after said apostate abandoned me and broke my heart, I had to stay with his friend's sister. Who had kids. Kids that liked to spit in my fur, pull my tail, and scream in my ears. There was no escaping them, it was rare to even get a full night's sleep. And of course anytime I hissed or even thought of scratching one of the brats I was the one sent out in the cold with no dinner. I hate kids, and women.
I spent seven of my eight years miserable in that house, resigned to my fate. Then one day that Grey Warden archer got lost in the Deep Roads, and the woman I lived with hired a group to go after him. I say it was fate that my one true owner was among them. Anyways when Anders came rushing through the door calling my name, it was like a dream come true.
He looked so much older, he had more hair, he was a lot skinnier, and smelled horrible. Even his trademark earring was gone, but his voice, and his smile when he saw me I would recognize anywhere. I meowed enthusiastically and ran to him. He picked me up with tears in his eyes and apologized over and over for leaving me. I just buried myself in his feathers, that was new too but I rather liked them.
That had been a little over a month ago and my life had gotten infinitely better. I had all the mice I could ever ask for, I got pet all day by patients or Daddy, and I had a warm bed to share with him every night. The best part though? No kids. Aside from the ones that came through the clinic but they were timid and gentle, unaccustomed to cats unlike those spoiled brats I used to live with. Never ever going back there again.
In that month, Anders told me everything he could about our time apart, even his union with Justice. I listened to his stories and made understanding noises when I could. Being a cat an all, I couldn't speak with him but I could comfort him at least with meows and scowl whenever he mentioned the Templars. When he talked about him friends, he was much more enthusiastic and I liked hearing him like this. He talked the most about Hawke but he also talked a lot about a Tevinter elf named Fenris. He was usually frustrated when he did, but I often wondered if he realized just how much he talked about him.
Tonight he came home in a fit of rage. Apparently the elf and him had gotten into another big argument and he couldn't let it go. Of course I was right there, pushing my head into his hand. He smiled at me and scratched under my chin. I loved that. After he worked on his manifesto for a couple hours, we crawled into his make shift bed. I curled up on his mother's pillow and in a matter of minutes we were asleep.
The life of a cat may not be simple but with the right person, it was totally worth it.