A few days since his repast with Mowgli, Puss de Carabas was out and wandering again. He'd strayed from the Sleeping Woods and found himself in Ozland, a particularly green place that suited him very nicely. He loved the tall and tasty grass.
Here he was just a little wild kitty tramping through the grass with his ears twitching. Looking for a spot of milk or something else to sate his thirst (he had grown tired of the magical water in his skein) he wandered ever closer to the city, stalking through Munchkin County as if he were king here. He slinked onto a back porch and scratched lightly at the door. Come now, someone must take pity on this poor kitty.
Dorothy was sitting at her kitchen table. She was reviewing lists and writing in large leather bound books. Diary, grocery list, or spellbook? A little of each.
Her monkeys were all passed out in another room, maybe in the backyard, perhaps even in another town. She hadn't seen them for days, until- Oh is that them? Dorothy starts to feel overwhelmed, relief! But then comes the anger that usually does follow her normal emotions.
Several locks all down the door are undone with the flick of her wrist. (The last one sticks so she fiddles with it manually). She yanks her back door open "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"
Meow was the only thing he could think to reply with. He stood up on his hind legs and made a little bow once he'd composed himself a little better. "My good lady," he said in an uncommonly sauve tone, "if it truly concerns you I have been wandering this fair place called Ozland for some days. May I inquire as to your whereabouts?"
Dorothy is certainly caught off guard. She clears her throat. "I thought you were someone else... sorry." She returns his bow with a curtsy, laying on some thick fake sweetness. "You've just reached Munchkin County. Who might you be, kitty?"
Dorothy is still a bit suspicious. "Have you seen any monkeys on your way here?" She doesn't invite him in, but walks away from the door to her icebox.
"I have not. You see I am a very short cat and the grass in this fine place is so tall. I would not have noticed a monkey, nor even a mouse, and I do so love mice." He stood by the door idly, to him entering without invitation would be an intrusion.
Dorothy grabs a saucer and milk. She comes out onto the porch, stepping over Puss. Her door shuts on it's own accord.
She pours out some milk and offers it to him. Then she sits down on the porch and lets her big boots hang off over the grass. "I really should cut the grass." She scratches her head, lost in thought.
"Thank you," he said genuinely, as he put his head to the saucer and lapped at the milk. If she'd given it to him in a cup he might have sat on his hind legs and sipped at it like a cup of tea, but this was just as nice. "Your lawn is lovely," he commented. "Perfect for stalking through. Unless of course you've no interest in stalking. If I could eat that much grass I would offer to cut it for you. As it is I most certainly owe you some favor for this fine saucer of milk."
"Exploring the new territory. It's nice to be around people who don't freak out when I talk to them," he said conversationally. "These new lands suit me very well."
"Well, I had a lion once. So I know how it is." Dorothy retorts casually. "I don't know how I feel about this place." Though, she is starting to see the bright side of things because of Puss.
"What's your magic?" he asked casually. He could see it in her, strange and splotchy as if it were a puzzle of connect the dots and she didn't have the right pen to connect them. "Not to pry, I just imagine you would have some magic, seeing as how you're here."
"I can see that," he replied cheerfully. Though you haven't yet mastered the magic you've been gifted with. "What kind of witch?" he asked, almost conspiratorially. "I am always keen on the different types of magic."
"I cannot truthfully claim that I always was, but can one ever truly know what they are?" he answered. When he didn't feel much like honesty riddles were a decent defense.
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