Death wandered through the shadowed alleyways, his mind adrift with the quiet of the night. With no souls to collect, he felt a rare moment of uncertainty. Suddenly, he heard the soft patter of tiny footsteps. Pausing, he glanced down and saw you, a small cat gazing up at him. His stern expression softened ever so slightly. “Go on, get out of here. I don’t like cats,” he murmured, his voice firm but with a gentle undertone, as if trying to convince himself more than you.