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Tommy stretches his front legs out, yawning widely.
It's a nice day, with few clouds and a blue sky, which drew Wilbur outside a few hours ago. Tommy has been curled up on the couch, idly watching shows play on the TV as he wavered between sleeping and being half awake.
He jumps off the couch, pausing to sniff at the rug.
It still smells the same.
Tommy next jumps up onto the coffee table, making the leap onto the TV stand. He nearly falls, but manages to steady himself. The TV is louder here, and Tommy quickly bumps the power button with his nose, turning it off.
A small hiss escapes him at the discomfort, accompanied by him raising a paw to scrub at his nose.
Huffing, Tommy retraces his steps back to the floor.
Satisfied, he now trots out of the living room, whiskers twitching.
It's about three in the afternoon now, and Tommy has energy to expell. And, to his luck, the same seems to be true for Wilbur, who is racing in a circle, chasing his tail.
Tommy meows to catch his attention.
Wilbur abruptly stops, splayed out over the ground like he's just fallen, wide, dilated eyes locked on him. His ears are flattened to the sides, whiskers and nose twitching almost as erratically as his tail, which is swishing about behind him wildly.
A yowl is the only warning Tommy gets before weight slams into him.
For a moment, Wilbur just stares down at him, eyes somehow wider, then he's off again. Tommy chirrups unhappily, pulling himself back to his feet and watching the elder cat race around the yard.
Wilbur leaps towards him, dropping down about a metre away, staring into his eyes.
Tommy slowly trots closer, then quickly swipes at Wilbur's nose before sprinting away. Wilbur remains still for a moment, processing, before he hisses and chases after his son.
Knowing that he won't escape his father with speed, Tommy tries to dart between bushes.
It doesn't work, as teeth sink into the scruff of his neck and he's pulled away from the trees and shrubs. Wilbur deposits him on the grass, pushing him onto his back and returning Tommy's previous action.
Tommy yowls at the ragdoll looming over him, squeezing his eyes shut when he's bapped on the nose with a paw again.
Wilbur purrs, continuing to stare down at him for a few moments before looking up, eyes catching on movement.
A bird.
Tommy huffs quietly, rolling onto his front and pushing himself up. Wilbur nudges his shoulderblade with a quiet mew before stepping past and lowering himself into the grass, getting ready to pounce.
He ignores the man, padding over to the opposite end of the yard, where there are flowers.
The peaceful inspection of the flowers is quickly interupted by the terrified squawk of a bird, followed by hissing. Turning around, he finds Wilbur hissing up at the same bird, which is flying away with haste.
Wilbur jumps up, swiping at the air as if he'll catch the creature now long gone.
An idea pops into Tommy's tiny kitten brain, making him straighten. Wilbur hisses and yowls up at the sky, seeming not to realise that his prey is well and truly free of his claws.
Tommy follows in his father's earlier footsteps, crouching low to the ground and slowly stalking through the grass.
Once close enough Tommy springs up, landing with a dull thud on his father's back.
Wilbur freezes up, a startled chirr escaping him, before he seems to realise what has happened. Carefully, Wilbur shifts to lay down, ensuring he doesn't startle Tommy into falling.
In response, he buries his face in the fur between Wilbur's shoulderblades, closing his eyes.
His legs are all dangling awkwardly over the elder's sides, his tail beside the other's.
Content with the arrangement, Tommy buries his face further into Wilbur's fur and falls asleep. Despite knowing that it will eventually become uncomfortable, Wilbur refuses to move until his son does, so settles in for however long that will take.