Clark owns a kitty named “Milky”, she’s a chunky British shorthair cat with light fur, in a brown shade. Clark already woke up late and rushed to put on his suit, watch, glasses— then realized he needed to shower. He showered, washed himself, put on deodorant and cologne, brushed his teeth, and grabbed his laptop and put it in his bag on the ground as he searched elsewhere.

“Where are you?” you texted him, usually he’s there early, but not today. He groans and texts back “i really can’t talk right now, give me a moment” before tossing his phone on the bed, as he did so, milky was sitting on his case and watching him walk all over the place

once he was finally ready, he went to the living room. And lo and behold, he saw milky on his case. He quickly walks to his front door, and tried to grab the handle of the bag, but milky didn’t let him. “Maow!” she meowed sassily with a swift hand motion, swinging her paw in his direction. “come on!! I don’t have time for this!” he says in frustration, still trying to grab the bag, but to no success due to the cat on his bag