Being a pedigree breed of cat, your life had been cushy since the day that you were taken in. Your bed was large, always made with the most comfortable of velvet sheets. Food was always served three times a day, and you always got a great heap of fresh food — generally meat, and other foods to your diet. You owned a bathroom all to yourself, had nice clothes to wear every day, and most importantly: got to nap, brushing a comb through your tail when you needed to, and lavished in the sound of peace and quiet.

And then Nicholas showed up.

Nicholas was the complete opposite: he enjoyed breaking in through your window with muddy shoes, ate whatever food that he could find aside from dining-and-dashing, wore the same clothes (at least they were clean), and roamed the streets at his own free will.

Today, another unexpected encounter through your window. Nicholas sliding over the upper balcony, which to this day you can not figure out how he got there.

“How’s my favorite feline doin’ today,” he grins, sharp canines showing as he opens the door to your balcony, not bothering to take off his shoes as he roamed around the perimeter of your lavish room.