"Prosh! Where are you?" Rasson called, running from room to room as his voice echoed through the huge stone dwelling.
The boy heard an annoyed "meow" in answer and skidded to a stop in front of a stretching gray cat. "Cat Prosh, I can't wake the Master!"
Then let him sleep. Prosh licked his left paw to express disinterest.
"You don't understand. My master cannot wake. He lies white as morning snow and still, so still. Come see!"
Rasson raced through the main chamber into Master's bedroom with the cat darting past him. Prosh hopped upon the bed, using nose, whiskers and very keen cat eyes to examine the pale master.
You're right. Master cannot wake-his soul is gone. Cat Prosh gazed unblinkingly at the boy.
"Gone?" Rasson leaned over the bed to poke at his master's cheek. "You mean he's dead?"
No, but he will die, Prosh warned, if you do not rescue his soul by the next new moon.
"How can I do that?"
Get help from the village witch. Prosh leapt off the bed. Now I must find Cook and get my meal.
"Cat Prosh," called Rasson. "Come back!"
The cat ignored Rasson and shot away toward the kitchen with the pleading boy trailing behind. They found no one in the kitchen and the black stove had not been lit. No aroma of baking bread greeted them, no hearty good morning from Cook, and no breakfast for cat or boy.
"Maybe Cook is in her room behind the pantry," Rasson suggested. The cat and the boy found her door unlocked and cautiously entered Cook's chambers. No snores sounded from the huge lump in bed. Still, the boy stayed back fearing Cook's temper, and allowed Cat Prosh to investigate.
Her soul has been stolen, too, Prosh announced.
The boy crept forward. "Why?"
Prosh sniffed and stared at the human boy. Soul robbers steal souls and imprison them in the Dark Fortress until the seventh new moon. Then they drain the kidnapped souls, using that essence to increase their evil power.
"I thought soul robbers things of legend only-stories told to frighten children. If you knew about them, why didn't you protect Master?" Rasson cried in anger and fear.
Who knows when soul robbers will attack? A long time has passed since they last ventured forth-longer than either of our memories. Soul robbers strike at random, after dark. Cat Prosh leaped down and pattered back into the kitchen. Last night I was outside exercising Hound. He needs it.
"I should've been here-I would've saved them."
Where were you? Prosh's ears perked.
"In the woods catching glowflies," Rasson answered, hanging his head down in remorse and feeling as if he wanted to cry.
Did you catch any? The boy nodded, and Prosh added, Good. Put the glowflies in a lantern and take them with you on your quest. Their light will guide you at night.
"Please, Prosh, I need you to help me free Master and Cook," Rasson said. A thought struck him. He stopped and blinked down at the big gray cat. "Oh, no! Do you think they got Mistress?"
"Meooow!" screeched Prosh.
Prosh darted up the stairs with the boy scrambling after, Rasson reaching Mistress Sunlee's chambers seconds behind the cat.
Rasson knocked lightly. No response. He cracked the door open and Cat Prosh swished past to pounce upon the bed. There, stretched out like exquisitely carved ivory, lay Mistress, her golden hair spread out over the pillow. She slept deeply as if she had abandoned the living world. Prosh wailed so loudly, Rasson jumped. Though aware Cat Prosh adored Mistress, it still startled the boy to hear such deep anguish from the normally aloof feline. "Don't grieve, Prosh. We shall free their souls and bring our people back to life." The boy picked up Prosh and carried the trembling cat away from Mistress and back toward the kitchen. "I'll find us something to eat, then we can plan the rescue."
Prosh emitted a weak meow as Rasson put him down by an empty bowl and disappeared into the pantry. Soon the boy came out with Cook's prize cream instead of plain milk. He poured most of the cream into the bowl, then gulped down the remainder from the bottle. He divided a chunk of smoked fish between himself and the cat, glad to see Prosh eating and acting normal again.
As their fish disappeared, the boy began to chatter. "Once I told Koge that you talk to me. He didn't believe me. Why can't Koge hear you like I can?" Rasson said, remembering how the older boy had laughed and ridiculed him.
I don't wish to talk to that ruffian. Cat Prosh finished off the cream, then sat back to lick his whiskers. Why you speak to Koge, I'll never understand.
"Koge says I'm crazy if I think cats talk. I told him you don't say words out loud, you say them into my head, but he just called me stupid."
If you were stupid, boy, I would not bother talking to you. Prosh turned attention back to the fish, nibbling delicately at a small chunk of it. Is there more of this?
"Yes, but you'll get sick if I feed you too much."
No, boy. Store it in your pack with water and foodstuffs that humans eat. Don't forget the glowfly lantern and a blanket. Prosh began licking his fur with his rough pink tongue. Also you need to gather dahi blossoms, wild fluta, and bloka leaves from the woods before we go.
"Does this mean you're coming with me?"
Of course. Mistress Sunlee needs me and we might as well save the other souls, too.
"I'm ready," Rasson announced breathlessly, a short time later. He stood by the door, clutching a knapsack bulging with supplies, determined to rescue the people who, in great kindness, had taken in the small orphan boy. He could not fail them.
About time. Prosh swished his tail. Did you pick the herbs?
"Yes, here they are." The boy touched a leather pouch hanging from his belt. "But why do we need them?" Just a little cat magic. You'll learn when it's time. Come, let us go before more of the day passes.
They journeyed west, using the ascending sun as a compass. Sometimes the cat trotted ahead, making Rasson break into a run to catch up to Prosh. After a few hours, the boy took the lead. He darted past ferns and wild berry bushes, calling, "I see something shiny and bright in that clump of olla flowers. Maybe it's a jewel that someone dropped."
No, boy, don't touch it! Prosh admonished, reaching Rasson as the boy stretched a hand toward the shimmering gold spot among pink flowers.
"I found it, so it's mine," Rasson replied, annoyed at the cat for trying to keep him from his treasure.
SSsSsst! The gold spot undulated with shiny scales as a hooded head raised up hissing, a forked tongue darting from the snake's mouth.
Horror flooded Rasson as he heard Prosh caution, Do not move. Stay completely still. Glimmer snakes are poison. The boy held his breath, too terrified to move. From the corner of his eye he saw Cat Prosh circle in closer while the snake held Rasson prisoner with a cold black gaze. The snake reared back its head, preparing to strike. "I'm doomed," Rasson whispered.
At that moment a cat paw knocked the snake's head. Before the serpent could recoil, the cat snapped jaws over its midsection and pulled it from the flowers. Prosh swung the squirming snake, whipping its head against a boulder until he beat all life out of the golden serpent. The cat dropped the dead snake to the ground.
You are greedy and impulsive like all of your kind, Cat Prosh told Rasson, before moving away to wash the snake scent from his fur. I should have let the snake bite you.
"But you need me," pleaded Rasson, ashamed of himself. He offered the cat some water in a small cup and placed a piece of smoked fish next to the cup. "Forgive me for being so foolish. Next time I shall help you, Cat Prosh."
The cat regally accepted the boy's offering, but as he nibbled the fish he replied, I do not need you. A cat does not need a human.
"Wait and see," Rasson promised. "I will prove useful and you will be glad you saved me." He tried hard to think of something he could do for Prosh besides the offering of food. Nothing came to mind, but Rasson vowed he would find something during their journey.
The afternoon wore on as they traveled westward, the countryside changing from flat wooded ground to hills strewn with boulders and fallen rock. The sun blazed hot, sometimes glaring right into Rasson's eyes and he couldn't help wonder how Prosh felt under all that fur. The boy stopped to sip from his flask and watch the cat trot ahead. Rasson gazed around the strange countryside, thinking how different it was so far from home. The next hill looked more like a mountain and he wanted to explore it. Up the trail, he noticed the cat slowing down.
Cat Prosh surveyed the rugged terrain, glancing back at Rasson. The feline stretched and yawned under the shade of a waala bush where fern leaves fanned the air. Boy, you scout a ways up the mountain and I'll keep watch here.
With a hop and a skip Rasson started off to hike up the rocky trail until he stood by a big boulder at the cliff top. "Look, Prosh! I can move this big rock."
The dozing cat meowed a protest before opening green eyes to stare as the boy teetered the precarious boulder to and fro. Be careful, it may roll off the edge, Prosh warned, then curled himself in the other direction and closed his eyes again.
"On my way up I passed a cave, not far from you," Rasson yelled down at the cat. "Can we sleep there tonight?"
Prosh snoozed under the bush, ignoring Rasson. The boy began tossing pebbles off the cliff to land in front of the cave, several yards from the cat.
Stop that racket and come down, Prosh commanded.
The boy shinnied down the mountain side, but just as he reached the bottom, a ferocious growl thundered from the cave. Rasson glanced over to see a huge gray beast standing at the entrance. He blinked disbelieving eyes at the giant wolf-dog, blood dripping from its fangs and a half-eaten zincod clenched in its teeth.
"Yeowl-hiss!" Prosh stood with back arched and fur on end and for a second Rasson froze in horror. Would the beast attack Cat Prosh? He couldn't bear to lose anyone else.
He scrambled back up to the cliff top. "Stand clear!" he hollered at Prosh. Then with a great shove, he pushed the boulder over the edge. Plop! Crash! Crunch.
Heart pounding, Rasson peeked over the edge. "Did it squash him?"
Cat Prosh relaxed. Probably not, but it blocked the entrance. Let's get out of here in case there's another way out of the cave.
"Wait for me," Rasson said, scurrying down with a final glance at the stone blocked cave, happy he finally did something to help the cat.
After they put distance between themselves and the cave, Rasson began to laugh. "This time I saved you," he said.
I was in no danger. Prosh padded forward through a sloping meadow toward the forest.
"What? That wolf-dog could have gobbled you in three bites," Rasson protested, hurt that Prosh did not appreciate his efforts.
I only needed to climb a tree to be safe. You saved yourself, not me.
Rasson charged into an angry run to dash past the cat into the forest. The trees blotted out the lowering sun as if it turned to night. A chilly breeze swept by, making the boy shiver. He paused to wait for Prosh.
"I can't see," Rasson complained, as the cat brushed by his ankles.
Then take the glowfly lantern from your knapsack. Cat Prosh sat and fluffed his fur as the boy obeyed, soon a twinkling glow radiated from the old lantern.
The boy held it up to illuminate the path, spilling light across sprawling roots and green fleshy vines strung from the trees. The canopy of leaves, branches, and vines completely obliterated the sky, making Rasson shiver again. "I don't like this place. Can we go another way?"
We're only cutting across a narrow strip of the forest here. Be patient and we will be through it soon.
True to the cat's prediction, they soon emerged into the slanted rays of a sinking sun. Once beyond the forest, Rasson carefully replaced his glowfly lantern into his knapsack and strapped the pack over his shoulders. He felt he had been walking forever and his back was stiff from the weight of his pack. So when they reached low marshy ground, he slipped his pack off again and carried it in his hand, slinging it to the ground the first opportunity he found.
"What's that horrid smell?" Rasson asked, as they stopped by a fallen log to rest.
The swamp is not far from here. You sit for a spell while I hunt for a tasty morsel. Prosh disappeared into the willows, leaving a rustling trail in his wake.
"I'm so tired," Rasson said to himself, then he stretched out on the flattened log. It felt good to be off his feet; he hadn't slept much last night and they had been traveling all day. His eyes drifted shut. He listened to the soft hum of a flitterwing, letting the sound lull him to sleep.
Sensing something staring at him, Rasson awoke to see the red slit eyes and twitching nose of a giant rodent, a creature as big as Cat Prosh. The boy couldn't move. Sweat beaded across his forehead and all he could think about was the swamp rat drooling inches from his face. Swamp rats carried a disease fatal to humans and Rasson knew one bite from this creature would kill him-a painful, slow death. He had heard stories and they'd given him nightmares. Should he scream? Or would a scream spur the rodent to attack? What could he do?
"Meoow!"
The rat turned from boy to cat. Rasson rolled behind the log and peeked over the top to watch as Prosh threateningly approached a rat as large as the cat himself. What could a cat do against a rodent his own size? The cat sprang forward. The boy saw a tangle of fur, claws, and teeth accompanied by hisses and growls.
Rasson felt terrible-now Cat Prosh would die because of him. Tears pricked his eyes, blurring his sight as the fur and teeth rolled to a stop and gray separated from brown. He swiped the tears away with his sleeve to clear his vision.
For you. Prosh released the rat's throat from his teeth and the rodent lay limp and bloody.
"How did you kill it? It's as big as you are," Rasson gasped in astonishment.
Size isn't important. To a cat, a rat is a rat.
"Did he bite you? Will you die?" the boy asked, afraid to hear the cat's reply.
Prosh sniffed. Of course not, human. I am a cat. With that he pranced away down the trail, obviously expecting the boy to follow.
Rasson hurried along behind, too wound up to feel tired any longer. Soon they left the willows, reeds, and swamp stench behind to enter what appeared another section of the thick, pungent forest, but trees here grew thinner and allowed in more light.
"How much longer before we reach the Dark Fortress? What do soul robbers look like?" Rasson asked. "Can we stop and eat yet?" He hopped on one foot trying to get the cat's attention. "Do you really know where we're going?"
Humans talk too much. Prosh curled up in a downy patch of wild grass. You eat and I'll doze awhile. Maybe food will keep your mouth quiet, boy.
Rasson found a comfortable rock and sat down. First he sipped from his flask, the water cooling his parched throat. Then the boy wiped off his knife before cutting a chunk of cheese and a slice of bread. He gazed around him as he munched on the strong goat cheese and wondered again if they were lost. He no longer had any sense of direction and the forest closed around them like a maze.
"Wake up," Rasson coaxed, stroking Prosh's silky fur and tickling the cat's ears.
One green eye opened. Rest, boy, you'll need all your strength in a short while.
Rasson tried, but couldn't rest. He thought about the swamp rat, the snake, and the wolf-dog, and how he wanted to reach the fortress and save Master, Mistress, and Cook. Then he could rest. Only then. He played with the pouch of herbs hanging from his belt. Opening it, he looked inside to see the dahi blossoms, wild fluta, and bloka leaves that he had picked in the woods that morning. It seemed so long ago. He drew the pouch closed just as Cat Prosh yawned and stretched.
When we reach the edge of the forest, leave your knapsack behind a tree. When we arrive at the fortress, you can move faster if you only carry your knife-and the herbs, of course. Prosh trotted away.
Rasson trudged along behind, wondering what would happen at the fortress. How did Prosh plan to battle the soul robbers? Could they save the imprisoned souls? Or would they lose their own? The boy's pulse quickened with his stride. Whatever would happen, he wanted it over.
They paused between trees before leaving the forest. Ahead, silhouetted against a violet-smudged evening sky loomed a stone fortress, dark and forbidding, rimmed by a high wall that looked impossible to scale. Cat Prosh streaked through the meadow grass. The boy began running after Prosh, not daring to call out "Wait for me!" Instead, he followed in silence, his gaze drawn by the fortress appearing larger as he drew closer.
The cat stopped so abruptly that Rasson nearly tripped over him. "Why stop now? We've finally reached the fortress," the boy said, regaining his balance.
A moat. I won't get in that water-not even to save Mistress Sunlee. The cat drooped from his ears to his head to his tail.
Rasson had never before seen Prosh appear defeated. "I won't let some water stop us," he declared, watching the cat.
Cat Prosh gazed down at the murky swirling waters and shook. I cannot enter the moat. It's impossible.
"Nothing impossible!" Rasson protested in alarm. "After the dangers we've survived on our quest, we can't give up now."
It's no use. I cannot cross this water. It is cursed. Things live within it which will devour us. Prosh circled around to begin the journey home, looking so dejected and forlorn that it tore Rasson's heart.
"I will swim across alone," Rasson said. "You can wait for me here while I rescue the souls." The boy felt his body tremble as he spoke, but he bit his lip against the icy fear seeping through him.
Even if you survive the moat, you cannot fight the soul robbers without my magic. They will steal your soul and imprison it with the others. Come, let us return home. Prosh would not look up at the human boy, as if he could not bear the shame of his decision.
"Wait! I can make us a bridge. See that towering balta tree? It's very skinny and if I cut it here…" the boy dashed over to the tree and pointed to the far base of the trunk, "… it will fall across the moat and land near the top of the wall."
What will you use to chop it down?
"My hunting knife is very strong," Rasson answered. "What do you think, Cat Prosh?"
Humans are good for some things. Prosh stared through desperate green eyes at the boy, who grinned smugly.
Whack, whack, whack. Rasson chopped at the slim tree with his heavy knife until his arms ached. "Why won't it fall?" he grumbled.
You need to make the cut wider.
"What does a cat know about chopping down a tree?" Rasson snapped, wishing he could just wake up and discover this had all been a bad dream.
Cats know everything. Prosh looked his old arrogant self and so Rasson chose not to argue.
The boy hacked away at the tree to widen the deep cut as Prosh suggested.
Crack, rumble, crash! Finally the towering tree fell, snagging the top of the wall with a shower of leaves.
"Do you think the soul robbers heard it?" Rasson asked, startled by the noise.
Hide! Prosh commanded. We must wait and watch.
Together they dove back into the cover of the deep woods and peered out from behind a bush to view the fortress. Nothing happened. They watched in silence until Rasson felt the cat's claws kneading his arm.
Now it is time. We must go before darkness falls. Ready, boy?
Rasson nodded. Cat Prosh ran to the fallen tree, jumped onto the trunk, and began scaling the boy-made bridge. Once Rasson thought he saw Prosh pause and stare down into the moat, but the cat moved ahead quickly, leaving the boy to wonder if he had imagined the hesitation.
Rasson had more difficulty climbing the tree. Under his weight the trunk shifted slightly and limbs caught at his feet. Sometimes, he could only grab twigs which snapped and threw him off balance, but the sight of Cat Prosh watching and waiting for him from the top of the wall kept him going until he finally hauled himself up beside the cat.
"What now?" Rasson whispered, trying to catch his breath.
Enter the fortress. Prosh leaped off the wall to land neatly upon the rock sill of a deep window. Come.
Rasson glanced down at the cobblestone ground far below, then across at the window sill. He felt sick. How could a boy jump across here? He was no surefooted cat; if he could not exactly reach the window, he would plummet to his death. No human could survive such a fall.
Boy, I've seen you jump farther playing with Koge at the creek. Prosh gazed at him through bright green eyes. Now jump!
The boy took a deep breath, focused on the window and dove into the air. For a moment he stayed airborne, then as he began to drop he stretched frantically for the window. He felt the rough stone edge hit solid beneath his fingers and grabbed. His torso and legs slammed against the wall, knocking his breath out, but he held tight. Using his arms, he pulled himself up onto the sill.
When his heartbeat stabilized, Rasson let out a slow breath. "I made it."
Of course. Prosh had hopped to the floor of the upper chamber and stood twitching his whiskers and sniffing. We must find the soul prison. I think it is below. The cat dashed through a doorway and Rasson followed.
The boy moved as quietly as possible, but when he saw Cat Prosh slinking down a spiral stairway of stone, he hesitated. The cat paused to glance up at him. Hurry, before the soul robbers awake.
"They're sleeping?" Rasson whispered in relief.
Yes, only until darkness. We haven't much time. Prosh continued down the winding steps.
Try as he might, Rasson couldn't keep his feet from clattering as he descended the narrow uneven stairs. They went down to the bottom level, then the cat scurried through a long hall and disappeared into an adjoining chamber.
The boy entered the chamber, aware of a foul odor as a prison of crystallized ice drew his attention to the center of the room. There, trapped within the frozen walls, an iridescence glowed and flickered with the essence of life. Excitement and wonder throbbed through Rasson. Souls!
SQUAWK!
At the cry, Rasson whipped around to see the sharp-hooked beak and midnight black feathers of a bird swooping at him in attack.
Protect your throat! Prosh ordered.
The boy cowered, trying to obey. He felt a sharp sting as the bird grazed his forehead. Instinctively raising a hand to the wound, Rasson drew it back, sticky with blood. Prosh meowed in warning and the boy glanced up in time to see the bird dive again.
The cat pounced but missed the bird. Too late, Rasson turned to run as the bird delivered a stunning blow to his upper left arm. A stabbing pain shot through him, making him stagger. The boy fell, collapsing onto the cold stone floor, his throat exposed as he landed. He saw the bird dip back toward him.
Cat Prosh sprang, catching the bird in mid-air and bringing it down. Rasson struggled to his feet as he watched cat battle bird. Feathers flew, screeches filled the air, and then there was silence.
"Prosh!" Rasson cried, relieved as the cat shook free of the bird. "You're amazing!"
Tear off your sleeve and use it to bandage your wounds. You're bleeding all over. With raised tail Prosh trotted over to the prison.
Rasson followed the cat's orders, wrapping cloth from his sleeve around his head to cover the gash, then binding another strip of the fabric around his arm to effectively stop the flow of blood. It was awkward to do it himself, his head ached and his arm hurt, but he worked as quickly as possible.
He could hear Prosh scratching at the crystal prison. "What are you doing?" he asked, stepping closer.
Drawing ancient symbols to summon forces beyond your human world. The cat stopped scratching. Done. Now rub the bag of herbs over these symbols. Keep the bag closed and hold on tight to it. Don't let go-no matter what happens.
"Yes, Cat Prosh." Rasson removed the bag from his belt, cinched it shut as best he could, and placed it against the first row of symbols. As he rubbed round and round, touching every symbol, he saw sparks. The bag got warm, then hot, then hotter.
Suddenly the crystal fortress exploded, the blast flinging Rasson against the wall. He slid to the ground still grasping the bag and sat watching with bewildered amazement as the ice cracked and shattered, showering pieces of crumbling fortress. For a moment the spirit flames hovered, shimmering, flickering so intensely, that the boy could barely stand the brightness. He shielded his eyes with his hand just as the flames billowed together, ascending upward to vanish through a window.
A meow startled Rasson as the cat wove between his legs. Mistress Sunlee is saved.
The boy bent to stroke Prosh. "Are the souls returning to their bodies?" he asked, his fingers drawing comfort from the cat's soft fur. "And shall Master, Mistress, and Cook live now?"
Yes, they will wake from dreamless sleep and know nothing of our quest or their imprisonment. Now we mustgo.
The boy started up the stairs, but halted as Prosh declared, No time. Unbar the door. Quickly!
The cat led Rasson to a wide wooden door. The boy tried to raise the board barring the door, but it stuck. His left arm was sore and he dared not let go of the herb bag, but he tried again. He shoved hard, finally jamming the bar upward to unlatch the door.
Just as the boy pushed the heavy door open to let in a rush of sweet fresh air, a terrible wail echoed through the fortress, shaking the walls, and jolting Rasson with sheer terror. He wanted to race out the door into the night, but a yowl from Prosh spun him around as a pointed shaft of ice penetrated the cat's paw, spearing it to the floor.
Throw me the bag of herbs and run. Save yourself, Prosh advised, unable to free his skewered paw.
"I won't leave you." Rasson grabbed the ice spear; it burned his palms with cold, but he held on until he wrenched it free.
Horror gripped Rasson as he looked up to see shadowy, cavern-eyed figures floating down the stairs. He aimed the ice shaft at them and threw with all his might.
The spear passed right through the leader, who just kept coming. Behind them the ice hit a stair and broke into pieces. The soul robbers neared Rasson, emitting an evil that sucked at his strength and cloaked him in heavy dread. Teeth chattering, death moving ever closer, the boy drew his knife.
No, throw the herbs at them. Prosh nipped open the bag. Make sure you get everyone. Or we're doomed.
With frantic desperation, Rasson scooped a handful of herbs from the bag and tossed them at the spectral robbers. The herbs sprayed into arrows of fire, piercing the front three soul robbers with a kaleidoscope of sparks. Banshee wails shook the walls as the figures burst into flames.
Two more robbers charged forward. The boy threw another handful of herbs, leaving the bag nearly empty. The herbs flew through the air, transforming into burning arrows to bombard the moving targets. An unholy shriek ricocheted through the fortress as the figures exploded with magic fire.
Another shadow advanced.
Fighting down fear, Rasson emptied out the herbs. One chance. He watched the sinister figure approach, held his breath, and took aim. The herbs sparked and points of colored flame shot out. They hit their target to extinguish the robber with fiery death as a resounding wail echoed through the fortress.
All that remained of the soul robbers were red wisps of foul-smelling smoke. The boy watched the smoke dissipate. It blew away on a breeze gusting through the open door.
"We did it!" Rasson cried, turning back to the cat, who was licking the injured paw. There would be no walking on that foot, Rasson knew. The boy swept Prosh up with his good arm and cuddled the cat close. "I shall carry you home, brave cat."
Ill be fine, as soon as you bandage my wound the way you did yours. The boy could see Prosh was shaken but attempting to hide it.
Rasson ripped off the end of the cloth on his arm and very gently bound the cat's paw. "Are you strong enough to travel home tonight?"
Together we can do anything. Prosh butted the boy's cheek, making Rasson feel important, happy, and needed.
"You're so remarkable, Prosh," Rasson said, stroking the feline. "Sometimes it's hard to believe you're only a cat."
Cat Prosh purred and nuzzled against Rasson's shoulder. Sometimes, boy, it's hard to believe you're only a human.