Sam
Sam stared at his phone, his thumbs hovering over the screen.
I’m so sorry about Basil. I’ve never seen him act like this. Please let me know if you need anything for the scratches
He hit send to Urien, then copied the message to Rux, and finally to Mabon. Three near-identical apologies because he couldn’t think of anything better to say. What was the proper etiquette for when a cat systematically attacked three men who’d been nothing but kind?
Basil sat on the kitchen counter, grooming his paws with the satisfied air of a warrior who’d defended his territory.
Sam glared at him. “You bit Mabon’s head. Hishead, Basil.”
The cat paused mid-lick, one paw suspended in the air, and blinked slowly. He totally didn’t care.
“They brought me vegetables and pastries, and then they bought you an expensive cat toy. They’ve been nothing but sweet.”
Basil resumed grooming.
Sam’s phone buzzed. Urien’s response came first:Don’t worry. I understand. Animals can be protective
The message was really kind – too kind for what Basil had done.
Rux’s text arrived next:Ha! Your cat’s got spirit. I respect that. The pastries were probably too ambitious anyway. Who brings seventeen pastries to someone’s house? (Me. I do that. I have poor judgment)
Sam’s chest tightened. The forced cheer bled through every word. Rux had likely spent hours baking those pastries - Sam had seen the golden crusts on the croissants, the delicate glaze on the Danishes. And Basil had sent them scattering across the doorstep while shredding Rux’s chest.
Mabon’s response took longer:Please don’t apologize. These thingshappen. I hope Basil isn’t unwell. Perhaps the stress of strangers visiting has been difficult for him
Sam dropped his phone on the counter and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.
Mabon had cried. Sam had seen the tears before Mabon tried to hide them, one hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder while Basil yowled from the bathroom. The sight had made something crack in Sam’s chest - the sophisticated man in his expensive suit, reduced to tears by a cat with an attitude problem.
“What is wrong with you?” Sam demanded.
Basil stretched, his claws extending to grip the edge of the counter, and yawned.
Sam picked up his phone again, typing quickly before he could second-guess himself.
I think something might be wrong with Basil. He’s never acted aggressively like this. I’m going to call the vet tomorrow
He sent it to all three of them, then sat down at the kitchen table. Basil hopped down from the counter and wound between Sam’s ankles, purring like he hadn’t just committed three separate assaults. Unable to help himself, Sam reached down and scratched behind the cat’s ears. Basil leaned into the touch, eyes half-closed with contentment.
“You’re going to the vet,” Sam told him. “They’re going to tell me you’re completely healthy, and then I’m going to feel like an idiot for making three grown men think my cat might be sick when really you’re just being a territorial nightmare.”
The purring intensified.
Sam’s phone buzzed again. All three men responded within seconds of each other.
From Urien:Let us know what the vet says. We’re happy to help with any costs
From Rux:Poor little guy. Maybe he smells something weird on us? Welive near the woods. It could be fox scent or something
From Mabon:Please keep us updated. If there’s anything we can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask
Sam read the messages twice, guilt sitting like a lump of lead in his stomach. They were being so understanding and patient. Any reasonable person would have written off Sam entirely after being mauled by his pet.
He typed another message, fingers hesitating over the send button.
Would you three want to meet up sometime? Maybe at Pat’s Pub? Neutral territory where Basil can’t attack anyone
