[ Yue Qingyuan has his own predictable scheduling; he rises early, he attends to making congee, he moves through the area like a smiling, friendly, but touch reserved presence, and he spies the brown tabby cat sprawled on the ground as he's making his way toward the Shen Qingqiu rooms. They're not even close together, but it's what he's been up to, and he tends to rise earlier than the older one, and only run into the younger one as Shen Qingqiu himself decides.
Ergo, he's balancing two bowls of congee, and here now there is a cat. ]
Little one, where did you come from?
[ He doesn't think he's seen a cat up here before, though certainly, it's not as if it's unusual for one to appear. Cats have that tendency, he recalls, of showing up anywhere people are over time. There's certainly enough people out here now.
He reaches out with his senses, not finding any particular answering thrum of magic or qi to tell him what's going on... or something is going on, and it feels like exhaustion and unrest.
It's not difficult, per say, to balance both bowls in one hand. They're not overlarge, and he's not a child, to suffer from hands too small to hold the burdens he takes on himself. Thus he makes the shift and crouches down next to the cat, extending a hand toward its nose, but not touching. He recalls in faint snippets the ways of hungry alley cats, and he's large, and unknown, and threatening. So he makes a peace offering for scenting rather than invite immediate scratches, speaking to the poor thing laying there, eyes wary. ]
There must be easier places to rest. Ones where you're not in danger of being stepped on. What's left you so exhausted? Were you outrunning some creature? Have you eaten recently?
[ He's talking a lot to a cat, of all creatures, but he's also watching for signs that what he's saying is being understood. After all, it's not like he hasn't seen people transformed into animals. It's a possibility he needs to entertain is happening now. ]
no subject
Ergo, he's balancing two bowls of congee, and here now there is a cat. ]
Little one, where did you come from?
[ He doesn't think he's seen a cat up here before, though certainly, it's not as if it's unusual for one to appear. Cats have that tendency, he recalls, of showing up anywhere people are over time. There's certainly enough people out here now.
He reaches out with his senses, not finding any particular answering thrum of magic or qi to tell him what's going on... or something is going on, and it feels like exhaustion and unrest.
It's not difficult, per say, to balance both bowls in one hand. They're not overlarge, and he's not a child, to suffer from hands too small to hold the burdens he takes on himself. Thus he makes the shift and crouches down next to the cat, extending a hand toward its nose, but not touching. He recalls in faint snippets the ways of hungry alley cats, and he's large, and unknown, and threatening. So he makes a peace offering for scenting rather than invite immediate scratches, speaking to the poor thing laying there, eyes wary. ]
There must be easier places to rest. Ones where you're not in danger of being stepped on. What's left you so exhausted? Were you outrunning some creature? Have you eaten recently?
[ He's talking a lot to a cat, of all creatures, but he's also watching for signs that what he's saying is being understood. After all, it's not like he hasn't seen people transformed into animals. It's a possibility he needs to entertain is happening now. ]