Bastet
Jemima jumped onto the counter and lazily trotted her way over to me, knowing it would get her the fuss she wanted. She was so predictable like that. It was a shame that her age meant she'd likely never be adopted, she'd do so well in a family home.
I reached out and ruffled the fur behind her ears, getting a glorious rumbling purr in response.
"See, I don't need anyone but you," I said to her. "Especially not a god who is busy with his own life most of the time."
She let out a small meow, as if answering me, though really she just wanted attention.
"Yes, I know." I pulled open one of the drawers and grabbed a catnip-filled mouse.
The moment she saw it, Jemima's attention strayed from me, and she wouldn't be swayed away from the small toy.
I swung it in front of her and she reached out to bat at it. I let go, and the toy fell to the floor, sending her skittering after it. I shook my head in amusement. I'd never quite understood the fascination cats had with catnip, it wasn't one I had myself.
The click of the front door pulled my attention away from the playing cat, and hope filled me that it would be Menhit coming to spend some time with me. Though I knew it would be too soon for that.
But it wasn't her stepping through the door and into the sanctuary, but Ptah. The sun following him inside lit up his bronze skin and gave him a warm glow that perfectly matched the person he was.
"How did you find me?" The question fell out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about it.
"You didn't make yourself very difficult to find," he pointed out. "You literally named your cat sanctuary after yourself."
"Loads of people name cat things after me these days," I countered. "It doesn't mean that it's me behind it."
He chuckled. "That's fair. But I planned on turning up to each of them, one after the other, until I discovered which one you ran."
"How did you even know I'd be running a cat sanctuary?" I asked.
"I either know you so well that I thought it was the right calling for you, or you're terribly predictable. I think it's your choice which of those you'd like to go for."
A small smile crept across my face. "I think I'll go with terribly predictable," I joked.
His laughter filled the room with a warm sound, like a hug from a long-lost friend. How I'd missed that sound in the years since we'd parted.
"You always surprise me, Bastet."
"And yet you think I'm terribly predictable. You're going to have to make up your mind which it is."
"You're the one who said you were predictable, not me," Ptah responded, holding up his hands defensively.
"Hmm."
"But I didn't come to argue about that. I came to bring you these." He held out a small paper bag.
I frowned and took it from him, my curiosity stronger than my need to send him out of the room.
Which wasn't surprising. Curiosity killed the cat, and there was no denying that's what I was.
I opened the paper bag and was met with a sweet and sticky smell that reminded me of times gone by.
"Honey cakes?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
"They're your favourites, right?"
"Yes. Especially the ones..."
"...with dates in the middle." His smile had changed from confident to a little uncertain. As if this was a risk he didn't know whether to take.
