Gwendal and the Pussy
Gwendal sat stretched luxuriously at his desk, a basket of yarn before him, knitting needles clicking furiously. He was going to finish this bear today. Damn Günter if he couldn't tell the difference between a teddy and a pig. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to make this bear pink.
There was little chance of his clandestine hobby being discovered as the castle was almost empty. Conrad, Wolfram, and the ignorant young King Yuuri were out gallivanting around, looking for the fated Morgif. Gwendal had little faith they would actually retrieve it but, deep down, he hoped they would return soon. Günter was beginning to drive him mad.
He examined the animal's incomplete face with scrutiny. Certainly the nose no longer looked like a snout, right? He growled and threw the basket aside. Extracting the needles from the mutated toy he stowed them carefully inside his cloak.
As he did so, the door lock gave an audible click and creaked open a fraction of an inch. Gwendal was on his feet immediately, sword drawn and prepared to leap when a furry orange paw appeared and began swatting around the edge of the door. Gwendal approached slowly, lowering his sword. With his foot he nudged the door open fully.
There, crouched low, was a small orange kitten staring playfully up at Gwendal. Its tail flicked back and forth as its eyes roved over his face and settled on his hair. With an astounding and unpredicted leap the cat launched itself at Gwendal's loose bangs.
The sword clanged to the floor as Gwendal's hands flew to his face. The cat mewed pitifully and clawed his scalp, trying to keep its footing. A long stream of curses issued from Gwendal's mouth as he spotted a swatch of fair colored hair out of the corner of his eye.
"What are you doing to Pussy?" a hysterical voice screamed.
The cat was then torn from his head, taking with it what felt like a very large piece of scalp. Gwendal touched his head gingerly, shooting daggers at Günter who now held the fatally playful cat.
"He's all that I've got now that King Yuuri off searching for Morgif." He said, cradling the cat. Günter then gave a pining look out the window and the light gleamed off the silver band cursed to his head.
"I hope nothing happens to him," he sighed. Then in one desperate movement he dropped the cat and fell at Gwendal's feet, a fistful of cloak in each hand, "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if King Yuuri was hurt! I think I'd die!"
Gwendal, who felt the beginnings of a monumental headache, was not in the mood for Günter's Yuuri-pining. In fact, he was never in the mood for Günter's Yuuri-pining.
"Get up, take you pussy, and leave my study. I have things to do." He rubbed his damaged scalp and stared off over Günter's head as he regained his footing.
"I'm sorry, I'm just so- emotional these days. I do hope he returns soon." Günter scooped the displaced kitten back into his arms, secretly imagining it was Yuuri, and exited the room.
The second the door had shut, Gwendal let out a loud sneeze, and then another one, and another one, and another. They grew to be so bad he had to sit down.
God damn, he was allergic to cats.
Sitting alone in his study he waited fro the sneezing to subside but it wasn't. Cat fur was everywhere. Great tufts of it had come out all over the floor and littered his cloak and hair. Gwendal fled the room.
Now exiled to roam the halls until the sneezing subsided, Gwendal determined that this was the end to Günter's annoying escapades involving the absent King and cursed headbands and murderous cats.
He would get that cat from Günter and show it just who it dealing with. He gave out a loud and uncharacteristic cackle which proved to be a mistake.
achoo
Achoo
ACHOO