Twining the ribbon through her ponytail, she tied it off in a pretty bow and smiled, satisfied, at her reflection. A cute red sundress, a matching wide-brimmed hat, and a pair of gold sandals. All her work, too, even the die. Especially the die. It was what the townspeople knew her for- her vivid dyes, vibrant cloth, and her designs. Every 9th day- the days of Tikki and Ziggy, both gods of creation. Today was the day of Tikki, so Marinette had woken up early to get dressed and load down a satchel with some new cloth- mostly bright red, in ohonor of Tikki-, some jars of various die ingredients, and a neatly bound book of her favorite designs. Sometimes it helped to have a book of sketches, to get people to buy commissions. She couldn't risk having an actual shop, not with Tikki.
Not only was Tikki a familiar, and therefore reason enough for many of the villagers to hate her, but she was one of the nineteen gods, who only appeared as a once in a generation. Of course, the townspeople didn't know that Tikki had chosen her; from what she could tell, they thought familiars were demons bound to dark-magic-using humans. Seeing Tikki as her familiar would lead them to believe she had bound the poor, poor goddess to her side. Or something equally dramatic anyways. In reality, being Tikki's chosen is a great honor- most witches would get weaker familiar. Fae, faeries, sprites- that's what most witches would get.
When she got Tikki, she had to swear- in a magically binding way- to use her powers for good, and that if a force of evil ever arose, she would fight it for the good and safety of others. So far, no problems had come up other than some caterpillars munching on her cabbages- thankfully. Thinking of her cabbages, she glanced back up at her garden, spotting a now-familiar black blob curled up in between two of the aforementioned cabbage heads. With a small huff- out of annoyance, she thought. Definitely not, even in the slightest, fond.
As she carefully placed in the last jar, she closed the satchel as tight as it would go and grabbed some meat with melted cheese on top of it- kept good from yesterday with a preservation spell- and cut it into small chunks. Ducking outside, she called for him softly. He had been appearing in her garden every day for about half a day-cycle- the eighteen-day unit of time, each day for one of the eighteen worshipped gods. Once it became obvious he would appear every day,, she gave in and picked a name. Chat Noir, she had decided to call him. After a make-believe knight from a game she had played as a child. Setting the meat down, she called gently to the cat, gently brushing broken bits of fern and a light coating of dirt off of his soft black coat as he munched on the treat. Standing up, she ducked inside to put on the satchel, adjusting it carefully before she stepped back outside and locked up her house. Tuning back to Chat, she found him intently picking out the cheese first, and only then eating the meat. Strange, but kinda cute. Scratching him behind the ear as he polished off the last morsels, she waited until he finished, then took the bowl away and tucked in next to her doorstep. Turning to leave, she paused and spun around on her heels back to face him.
"And as for you, mister," she brandished her finger at him, "Stay put! He mowed at her, defiant, but thankfully stayed sitting. Relieved, she urged Tikki into a carefully hidden pocket in her sundress and made off for the market. She'll never tell anyone she looked back at him before she turned the corner of the trail she would follow to town.
oOoO0OoOo
Adrien frowned, watching her leave. He could do what she wanted, of course, but who knows how long he'd be sitting there? He had seen the town briefly, but some particularly superstitious person swatted him off with her broom- luckily in the direction of Marinette's house. Better than staying here by himself the entire time, he figured. And he had a curious urge telling him to just do whatever he wanted and cause some trouble, something he has never felt before getting turned into a cat. He suspected it was Plagg's influence. Either way, he had wanted to follow her anyway, so with a quick shake of his coat, he stood up and padded quietly over to the path she had followed.
She wasn't going very fast- he could see her as soon as he turned the corner, inspecting a flower hanging from one of the trees to the right. Soon, though, she let it be and continued walking. Somehow, she managed not to notice him despite the fact that he was walking right behind her the entire trip. But as the path widened slowly into hardened dirt roads, he quickly lessened the distance between them, bumping into her leg to let her know he was there. Surprised, she jerked her leg away and squeaked a surprisingly cute squeak- like the mice he had kept as a child. Mildly affronted by her disgusted reaction, he sat down directly in front of her and meowed. He didn't say anything, really, since he knew she wouldn't be able to understand her anyways. He just kinda shouted wordlessly at her, making sure to put an over-exaggeration of his disgruntled emotions into the yell.
Over the past eight days, he had learned that while she couldn't understand sentences, she was good at understanding general emotions so long as he saturated his sentences with them. So while he'd started out trying to speak with her, it had slowly devolved from articulate sentences to simple shouts and expressive body movements. Even now, she simply gave a half exasperated sigh and reached down to smooth down the fur between his ears in apology.
"Shoo. You must know by now people don't like little black cats like you- away you go!" Seeing him refuse to move, she simply raised her eyebrows and stared at him.
"...Fine. And here I was, thinking you were a smart cat. If you insist, you can come with me- but no shenanigans! They won't let you stay if you so much as knock something off, mister. So don't even try it." Adrien nodded. Easy. Still, the Plagg part of him was rather dismayed at how easily he had agreed to that.
Winding around her legs, an instinct he had drawn from Plagg, he purred and trotted after her once she started moving again. Arriving at the market, Marinette began to unload her items on the same table as another person. Confused, Adrien paused for a moment before realizing they must share a stand. Jumping up onto the table, he picked his way through the goods the other person had set up. Finding an empty spot to the back of the table, he circled a few times- the Plagg part of his brain insisted he do so- before settling down. Just as he got comfortable, a shadow fell over him. Looking up, he found a sweet-looking old woman with a soft smile and fingernails crusted with some sort of brown gunk. Clay, Adrien inferred, based on the pots and general pottery he had woven through in order to reach this spot.
Cooing, the lady reached out to him and held out her hand. Confused, Adrien stared at for a moment before realizing she was asking permission to pet him. Swallowing a purr, he bumped his head into her hand, letting her pet him. She meant well, but she kept pressing a little too hard- possibly a side effect of working with clay. Marinette gives better pets, he thought- then immediately wished he hadn't. That sounded pretty weird, and he had no idea where that thought had come from. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, unintentionally scaring off the poor lady. She chuckled, withdrawing her hand. Marinette had been arranging the jars and artfully spreading the fabric, but now she was apologizing to the lady.
"Sorry, Mrs. Lisking! He keeps following me around, but if you want I can try to get him to go back to my house?" The last bit came out more as a worried question than anything, but the lady- Mrs. Lisking- simply laughed.
"Oh, don't worry about it, dear. He hasn't done anything- he can stay. So long as he doesn't break anything, I see no reason to bother him." Adrien purposefully purred, making Mrs. Lisking chuckle. "And he's a smart one, too, so there shouldn't be an issue."
With that, Adrien let himself half-doze off: comfortable and sleepy, but listening to the idle chatter about. Rumors about evil demons running about the woods, chatter about a young bard who recently arrived in town, and something about a girl named Maria getting engaged.
Mostly chatter, but some talk right over his head woke him up maybe an hour into the morning. By then, Marinette had sold the contents of several jars, and a few bolts of rich red and buttery yellow were gone, along with some small ribbons and handkerchiefs embroidered with flowers or the like. Mrs. Lisking had done equally well, with naught but a few of her larger pieces and some small vases sold. Marinette was engaged in talk with a young woman about her wedding dress- and yep, Marinette called her Maria. Apparently she had been born on the day of Duusu, so she was to have a blue dress with green embroidery- expensive, but she was the daughter of a particularly rich merchant, so money wasn't an issue.
Yawning, he got up and made his way over to them, neatly stepping between the pottery pieces to get over to them. As he was walking, however, he noticed Marinette's gestures getting increasingly more careless; she was lost in her little designing world, and it looked that she had forgotten she was near a pottery stand. Getting a little worried as she circled Maria, landing close to a tall vase, he altered his path to end where she was at now- and that's when she gestured too large. His leisurely walk doubled in speed, and he got there just in time to catch the falling vase. Without hands to grab it, all he could do was let it fall onto the soft of his stomach, so it couldn't shatter against the table. Marinette, who had been staring in horror, suddenly collapsed in relief, hurrying to take the vase off of him and set it in a safe spot.
Sure, it was just a vase, but he already knew Marinette well enough to know she would have apologized a thousand times after- then pay for it and apologize another thousand times. Even now, she was apologizing to Mrs. Lisking several times over as she gave him pets. Melting into the attention, he purred loudly- which startled him. This was the first time he had purred without intending to since when he had first met Marinette, when Plagg's instincts had been strongest. But while it was still a largely unfamiliar sensation, it was still a good one, so he let it take over. It only lasted a few minutes, though, as Marinette had to finish talking to Maria and begin packing back up- she had things to buy herself.
Once the satchel had been loaded back up- and it was nowhere near as heavy-looking as it had been before- Marinette called to him.
"You want to get in the satchel so you can see better, Chat? I've padded the top with fabric, if you're worried about it being uncomfortable. Just try and stay away from the front end- I'm going to put whatever I buy in there." Caught off guard, he nodded, unthinking, and hopped into the bag when she held it open. The jars provided enough height for him to easily see out, and the fabric was soft underneath him. She wandered around the market, likely more for his benefit than hers. Various fruits soon joined him, pears jostling for space with apples and peaches.
"Have all the veggies I need," she told him once they had paid. Leaning down, she whispered to him, "And I'm trying to grow fruit trees behind my house, but even magic can't make saplings produce fruit. Also, pear blossoms stink."
Flour, rice, salt, and wrapped parcels of meat joined the growing pile behind him, along with some cheese, butter, cold milk, fresh-baked bread, sugar, oil, a few bars of soap, and, most curiously, two small bowls. After a a quick stop to the weaver's shop- a little away from the market- Marinette topped off the stack with quite a bit of plain white cloth, string, and yarn that she apparently ordered once every two day-cycles. After that, she turned to head home.
They were on the path home, Marinette excitedly telling him her ideas for Maria's dress as he listened, back on the ground walking in front of her. Then a rustle to their right caught his ear, and he turned to look. Whatever it was decided to fly out of the underbrush right then, a purple blur that landed in front of them and growled. It looked almost humanoid, but strangely so, with long, skinny limbs and dark purple skin that stood out against the spring green of the forest behind them. It's face was almost humanoid but for a long snout, and the silver skin was pulled too tight, causing unnatural angles accented by a paisley marking around its right eye. All in all, it was terrifying and unnatural, and Adrien felt himself slink back, fur bristling. Even so, there was something familiar about the face, snarling and snapping in front of them.
Marinette however, had a much more helpful reaction. Lunging forwards, she pulled Adrien close and whipped out the salt she had just bought. Pouring a small portion into her hand, she whispered a quick blessing over it, then threw it at the creature. The salt flew in a glorious arc, landing all over the creature's face and in its eyes with a faint crackle and pop that must have been made by the magic. With an awful howl, the creature belted back off into the forest. After a moment, he gently leaned and pressed against her side; both to calm himself and to calm her. Now that the danger had passed, she had started to freak out, her heart rate spiking. They sat there for a minute, curled around each other. He calmed faster than her, distracted by the thought that her first response to danger had been to save him, putting herself closer to danger in the process. For the second time that day, he let the purr rumble through him as he curled tighter into her side.
