"Who's a good kitty, Mister Wiggums? You are! Yes you are!" Anders cooed at the cat in that silly voice of his that he kept reserved for fluffy animals. Karl sighed. They must look ridiculous, he with half of Anders in his lap, and Anders with all of Mister Wiggums on his chest. Scratching him, shedding hairs everywhere. He had hoped for some alone time with Anders, and then the cat came along. Anders could never resist a cat.

No, bad kitty, Karl thought to himself. Bad.

It was nice to see Anders in a cheerful mood, though.

"I wonder if there is a spell to make you bigger… if I find one, will you attack the templars for me, then?" The cat meowed, the sound open for any interpretation of Anders' choosing. "Oh! Yes you will! Of course you will, you will maul them all. Good kitty!"

Cheerful, yet morbid. It was good enough.

Anders let his attention wander from Mister Wiggums for a moment, to look at Karl with sudden seriousness.

"I want a spell like that. To make him big enough to ride, right out of here."

Karl bent down to kiss his forehead. "I know," he said. "Reality does not work like that, though."

"Pah. I reject your reality! I will substitute it with my own. I will –"

Mister Wiggums choose that moment to move, and sit on Anders' head instead of his chest. Karl reached out to scratch him behind an orange ear.

"Good kitty."