Something warm and furry tickled Derek's ear.
Still half-asleep, he raised an arm to bat it off.
"Mrrow?" "Mrrrow?" "Yow-yow-yow!" "Yip!" said several distinctly non-human voices around him, sounding about as sleepily annoyed as he had.
Now fully awake, Derek opened his eyes and sat up.
Or rather, tried to. The coverlet had grown distinctly heavier since he'd fallen asleep.
And it was purring.
He managed to get his head around to see what was going on.
The bed--- a double featherbed in one of the bedrooms in Maigrey's father's house--- was covered with battlecats.
Literally. The furry creatures--- each one about the size of a breadbox--- formed a living blanket on the bed, curled or sprawled or sitting in that uniquely feline sphinx-position that Maigrey always called "making a bundle."
The trail of blond hair over the pillow and a few of the cats said that his own little wildcat was curled up next to him as was her wont.
He'd had a moment's pause when she came into his bedroom last night--- though it was her custom to fall asleep in his bed when they were at the Academy, he was rather more concerned about her father's opinion of that behavior than he ever would be about the Provost's. Maigrey, however, had insisted.
And, after all, her father had given him her brother's old room--- right next to hers. Which said something about his place in this family that his mind instinctively shied away from. Too much.
Well, at any rate, the cats seemed to think he was part of the family. As he stirred, trying to get a better look, several of the large creatures shifted, cuddling even closer to him.
Just like his little wildcat, who, from the movements next to him, was starting to stir.
He waited, and in a minute, six-year-old Maigrey poked her head out from under the blanket. "G'morning, Derek."
"Good morning, little wildcat." His arm, as usual, was under her shoulders, and he gave her a little hug, let go quickly, before she could even think of protesting. "Maigrey, tell me something."
"Sure." She yawned, showing teeth; several of the cats followed her example.
"Is that---" he pointed to the furry quilt--- "normal?"
"Is what---" she poked her head around to see where he was pointing. "Oh!" She started to giggle uproariously. "It's a cat-quilt!"
"That it is." He waited for a moment until she quieted. "I take it they don't do this regularly, then?"
"Not when I was here." She thought a moment. "This was Platus' room, though, an' he hasn't been here since before I was born, so maybe they got used to havin' his bed to themselves." She giggled again, then hugged Derek around the waist, much to his startlement. "Or maybe they just like you."
"Let's go with the first answer," he said, but he said it mostly to himself, even as he indulged himself in hugging her back.