Humans weren't the only ones looking at less food during the colder months. Mice were seemingly manifesting out of thin air where there were grains to be found, and rats scurrying out of the Plague Tunnels.
The pests were fortunately only coming in small numbers now, but Tyrael has been assured that more would show up unless they chased them away quickly. (And even then. The little scraps were very good at getting into things.)
Tyrael, of course, had no idea what to do about such tiny invaders. They were terribly good at evading him, and even when he did catch one he would, more often than not, simply release it outside. Rathma had himself a good laugh, watching his uncle chase the mice about. The Horadrim present had looked at each other, at the former angel (clumsy as ever) and the nephalem leaning casually against a wall. Said nephalem deftly scooped up the rodent when it scurried past, and promptly began taunting Tyrael with threats of eating the little thing. (He was probably joking. Probably.)
Well something would have to be done - moreseo about the plague-rats than anything. The last thing anyone needed to deal with right now was plague. Plus Rathma had all but forbade everyone from so much as sniffing at one. He had opinions about plagues, which left everyone wondering how pestilence became a practice in necromancy.
And so, one morning when the red-orange leaves were blowing about, two of them had gone out and gotten a very special edition to their commune.
Tyrael was reading through his brother's journals again. Inarius had written precious few passages about the Autumn season, and each one made Tyrael's heart ache all over again with longing. Thus, he was not paying attention to the excited whispers and cooing coming from down the hall.
He did pay attention when something hissed behind him. Up above, he could hear the tell-tale shuffle of Rathma's cloak, and the nephalem make a noise of curiosity.
Turning about, Tyrael found...a small, fuzzy grey mammal with darker stripes. A fluffy tail flick-flick-flicked behind the creature, and triangular ears swivelled to and fro. It stared with green eyes up at the rafters where Rathma lurked. Rathma stared back. His own tail lashed once, before curling itself around the beam on which he perched.
"What…?" Tyrael looked between the two, and felt the need to brace himself. Yes, Rathma was a logical being, but Tyrael wasn't always certain what was logical to him and what wasn't. And this little creature was an unknown.
"Oh, you met Bentley. " Lorath walked into the room, glancing up at Rathma curiously. He turned to Tyrael, pointed at the nephalem, looked confused. Tyrael just shrugged, Lorath shrugged back, and promptly scooped up Bentley. Rathma continued to stare.
"What is...this Bentley?" Tyrael was enchanted with the little creature. Its fur looked luxuriously soft, and the stripes were quite a lovely pattern.
"He's a cat." Lorath beamed at him as he strode over. "He'll be our new pest control - I'm surprised you've never seen one before." He gently patted the cat's head, and it offered him a tiny purr in response. Tyrael did not take his eyes off the 'cat'.
"You can pet him too, you know. Just be slow and gentle." Tyrael blinked up at Lorath, and cautiously reached out a hand. He could feel the cat's breath as it sniffed his fingers, and he held perfectly still. Bentley promptly butted his head against the angel's hand, and let out another purr.
A smile worked its way onto his face. "Where did you find such a creature?" Tyrael asked. He continued to rub Bentley's head, as delicately as he could. Lorath looked like he was trying to laugh, and Rathma was openly snickering from his spot.
"A lady up the road was giving them away - she'd had kittens a few months back." Lorath answered, and looked incredibly pleased with the situation.
"And he will take care of the rats and mice?" Tyrael thought the cat didn't look like it held some magical solution to their little issue. Lorath nodded though, and the cat continued to purr.
"Cats are hunters." Rathma chimed in. "They're a common solution to an age-old problem." He lounged lazily on one of the cross-beams, and Tyrael thought he and the cat were awfully alike at that moment. Both lying about decadently, and both apparently quite skilled at taking care of pests.
Bentley was staring at the nephalem again, through slitted eyes. Tyrael hoped that the new cat wouldn't take issue with Rathma.
"Well, I certainly approve of this creature's presence." The angel offered, still petting Bentley's head.
Lorath looked very triumphant indeed. "Wonderful!" and then he was trotting off down the hall, cooing at the cat all the while. Rathma was snickering again.
As it turned out, Tyrael's worries over how Bentley and Rathma would get along were unwarranted.
The cat was indeed a good ratter, and kept the plague-rats away from their commune. It seemed to know not to eat them - or perhaps the Horadrim simply kept it well-fed enough that it didn't bother. Tyrael carefully didn't think about what happened after Bentley had caught a mouse, though. They were mercifully plague-free, and he continued to try and catch and release them when he could.
Bentley seemed to be a perpetual hair-making machine. Somehow, this reminded Tyrael of his brother.
The hair clung to everything and everyone, and sweeping it up became an added task to everyone's daily chores. Personally Tyrael didn't mind the fluff, but other members of the commune would sneeze profusely when exposed to too much.
Bentley laid in just about everyone's laps, or beds, or beside them while they worked. "Not all cats are so friendly," Lorath had said. "But ours sure is."
Everyone came to include Rathma.
The nephalem continued his habit of cocooning up for much of the day, and this was simply too irresistible for Bentley to pass up. Tyrael had to stop himself from laughing out loud whenever he found the two curled up together. (It wouldn't do to wake them after all.)