The cat looked at the girl, tempted to remind her of his dignity. But as always, his hard sunlit eyes softened when they looked at his young charge. She was a sweet thing, a small playful human girl of four or five years, with pale gold hair and eyes as blue as the sky. The cat was currently being held in a most undignified fashion, his legs dangling off in the air and his body held stiff in the space between her arms and body. The girl swung him around, and his livid gold eyes bulged slightly. But he put up with it, albeit ungracefully. He put up with a lot, as was usual with human children of this age, but she was sweet and meant no harm.
“Wee!” she cried gleefully, spinning in circles with the cat held out in her arms, beginning to stumble as the dizziness crept over her. But as the cat clutched to her, eyes wide, she slowed, and finally, set him down. He sat in front of her, gazing at the child rather grumpily.
“You don’t like that, Leti?” she asked him worriedly. She stopped, thought for a moment, her brows creasing as her mind worked. “Let’s go play with the Iso-tammi!” She scooped him up and began to march in the direction of the garden. At the door out of the house, a woman with fair skin and dark hair scooped her up, cat and all, and smiled as the child squirmed in her arms.
“Aïti!” the girl shrieked in happiness. The cat winced and wished he could cover his ears. “Mama, let me down, let me down right now! Please?” Her mother smiled, once again, and chuckled.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe. Where were you going, Lemmikit, with your poor kitty in hand like that? Don’t you think he can walk himself?” she questioned.
“Yeah, but I’m carrying him! Isn’t that fun?” Lemmikit grinned impishly at her mother, and the cat sighed in annoyance. The Valkoï-nainen, the Emäntä-sekä-yö, really ought to tell her child to set me down!! But there’s not much chance of that.
“Down here! Please! Look at me! Set me down! Come on, I’m begging you. LET ME DOWN! Meow! Down here! MEOW!” he practically shouted at them. The Valkoï-nainen glanced down at him with her silver eyes, but other than that neither of them noticed his yowling.
“I’m not sure Lehti-silmät likes to be carried, kultaseni. He’s a proud young tom, and likes to walk on his own.”
“Oh, all right, mama, since you say so,” decided the young lass. She set the cat down, and he nuzzled her gratefully.
“Now, where are you two going?”
“Oh yeah, that,” she remembered. “We were going to go play at the Iso-tammi!”
“All right. But remember: don’t go beyond the wooden gate,” warned the mother once again.
“I know, I know, you’ve told me a gazillion times!” insisted the five-year-old as she sped through the door on small stubby legs into the outdoors.
The garden was Kuu’s. She tended to it; spend much time in the place. But at least half of the work done was by the child, for quite literally anything would grow beneath Lemmikit’s small hands. The garden was beautiful; with idyllic flowers...