She lay in bed, comforter pulled up and a book lay across her bent legs. There was a mug of tea on the side table and her free hand tapped an unconscious rhythm on the sheets as she read. She startled and nearly threw her book--and kicked her cat--when suddenly her feet were attacked by an unrivaled predator.
Kharris laughed lightly and then cooed to soothe Fathing's own irritation at the disappearance of his prey. The cat sauntered up to her, silent and haughty, accepting the soft touches she offered to the big tom. He flopped down next to her heavily. He moved with grace and lithe power, but Kharris frowned to see how much slower he was moving. And, lately, he hadn't leapt directly onto the bed, but first onto the bench, then up to...