"Ari?"
The large feline gave a low grunt, partly acknowledgement, mostly snore.
"Ari? Wake up!"
"Ugh?" Aristotle's eyes cracked open, shining with reflected firelight. "What?"
"I really need to go pee..."
"So go?"
"It's cold..."
"Dress then, you furless lump!" he told her in an exasperated growl.
"...and there's crickets out there." Kiva finished, looking genuinely upset.
The feline favoured the girl with a weary glare for a few moments before finally nodding.
--
Aristotle putting up with the same sort of thing he's had for years. Kiva's not really as helpless as she sometimes seems; she can catch, skin, and cook a rabbit, make a fire or a fishing pole, build a shelter from sticks... She's just kinda bipolar, swinging between fierce independance and just wanting to be looked after.
But he loves her, whichever mood she's in, and always chases away the crickets.
