Castello
The Original Chef Kitten
Leon offered the silver-haired woman a spry smile. His eyes cocked to meet hers, a chuckle interposing a lingering silence. His fingers glided across the scalp of the cat, a pleased mew retorting off its tongue. The mess hall was lively, Leon could see dancing figures capering along the twilight. They were laughing, indulging and allowing their struggles to flee. For Leon, however, he found his own way to bewitch himself; sitting upon a gaze so prepossessing, the stars glimmering, trees swaying to the song of the wind and the moon standing so alluring over top of him. The view was his alcohol and the sobering of the mind was his dance.
Vivian's entrance damped his solemnity. His posture closed, eyes squeezed tightly together as she spoke. Part of him wanted to sigh but another part was not opposed to her company. Leon had no bitter feelings towards Vivian.
"And yet, it never ceases to amaze me how much better animals are than humans in terms of company, Vivian. There's no contest." Leon offered the lethargic Mare a small pet along her back. "They're the best kind of friends. You don't have to do anything special to please them, they don't complain and as long as you feed them, they're happy. It's been a while since I have had a friend like that." This made Leon sigh, a regretful shake of his head transposing. His tone grew grim, though it quickly became capricious after a few moments of silence.
Leon ushered a glare towards Vivian, a passive fire burning beneath them. "Well, Vivian, what about you? Shouldn't you be with the other party animals? I am flattered you're concerned, but is it worth coming to see a buzzkill like me?" Leon gave it a moment, his smile turning to a smirk. His fingers began drumming along his chin. There was only one thing he could come up with. "You here to confess or something?"
His icy expression melted into a genuine smile. "I tell you what, make half of those meat scraps mine and I might even listen to it. I'll break the hard truth to to you though, it's a hard no." Leon said with a following laugh. "Or, you can sit over there and be quiet." There was no laugh attached to this phrase.
As per usual, eloquence was not Leon's strong suit, but his tone was not aggressive, but instead it boasted a welcoming affinity. His shoulder gestured to the stable next to his. A Mare and its mother slept peacefully. It's olfactory essence was of course not so pleasing. It did not bother the resilient Leon, but to the untrained nose it could even be described as putrid.