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Kissekatt. Missekatt. Pussekatt. Kisa. Kisu.
They couldn’t agree on a name. That’s what Tuuri told him later, when she finally bothered to notice that Lalli was awake. Not like he cared. It didn’t matter to him if the cat got a name, any more than it mattered if Tuuri and the rest of them had been worried while he slept for two solid days. Clearly they had other important things to do, like cooing over the little hairball. Eventually, they decided to all just call her “kitty”, which meant she got a name for each language. That was fine by Lalli. He had his own name for her, anyway.
“Kissekatt! Who’s a cute little kissekatt, then?” It was the worst when Emil doted over the kitten. Lalli expected that kind of behaviour from Tuuri and the weird foreign mage, but not from Emil. He should be immune to her charms. Instead, he turned into a gooey mess whenever she showed off one of her tricks, such as yawning or falling asleep. Stupid. It’s not like she’s doing hard work! Everyone sleeps. Lalli could sleep like a champion, and no one ever told him how great he was for it. At least, he assumed that’s what Emil was telling the cat. Maybe Emil was talking about something else. Maybe he was telling her whatever popped into his head, like he usually did with Lalli. Well, fine. Lalli didn’t care. He had better things to do, like...eating this bowl of slop.
Lalli scowled at the porridge, prodding it with his spoon with more force than necessary. Tried and failed to tune out Emil’s voice. Then Emil’s tone changed, and a familiar word emerged from the Swedish babble.
“Lalli?”
Despite himself, Lalli raised his eyes. Emil left his seat across the campfire and came over to sit beside Lalli, still clutching the tiny trollspawn. “Lalli! I’m sorry, I’m being selfish. You haven’t had a turn at holding Kissekatt at all! Here, take her.”
Lalli tilted his head to the side. He’d understood his own name, the string of sounds that seemed to be the cat’s name, and a word he was pretty sure meant ‘sorry’, but that was all. So he had no real warning before Emil dropped his handful of fur and claws onto Lalli’s lap. The bowl of sludge nearly capsized, and when Lalli caught it the kitten squeaked and dug all of her claws in. He couldn’t help it; his own private name for her slipped out.
Emil, of course, had no idea what he’d said. “Aww, you’re making friends!” He beamed, completely ignoring the way Lalli and the kitten glared at each other. Lalli shifted his leg, wondering if he could dislodge her. No luck; the claws just sank in deeper. Blue eyes widened as if to say don’t test me, I can shred your leg and no one will blame me.
Lalli leaned closer, about to tell her just who was the boss cat around here, when Tuuri came out of the tank and joined them. “Ooh! I see you’re finally taking an interest in Kisu, Lalli! Isn’t she just the sweetest thing?” Now it was Emil’s turn to look blank, so Tuuri repeated her statement in Swedish.
Emil beamed, stroked the kitten on Lalli’s knee like she’d done something clever. Then his forehead wrinkled. “Kisu?” He looked at Lalli, a question in his eyes.
Lalli shrugged. He wasn’t the one who understood Swedish; whatever Emil wanted to ask, he would have to get his answer from—
“Tuuri? How many words for ‘kitten’ does Finnish have?”
Again, he kept talking about this fuzzy nuisance. Annoying. At this rate, Lalli was going to end up calling her ‘Kissekatt” too.
Tuuri looked from the kitten to Emil and back again. “Uh...just one, why?”
A frown. Why was Emil frowning? What had he asked?
“Well...I know you call her ‘kisu’ but Lalli called her something else. What does per...per-kele mean?”
Oh. There was another word Lalli recognized, even with Emil’s mangled attempt at Finnish. Lalli braced himself.
“Lalli! Did you call the kitty—did you actually say that to her?! How could you, she’s so sweet!”
Tuuri’s outburst startled the devil on Lalli’s lap; she clawed harder and fluffed up like a troll was looming over her shoulder.
“Pssh!” The hiss slipped out, half pain and half annoyance. Lalli ignored Tuuri’s glare and sprang to his feet, depositing the kitten on the ground.
“Lalli!” Both Tuuri and Emil yelled, this time.
“She is a devil! She clawed my leg!” Lalli protested.
“She’s a kitten! She doesn’t know any better!” Tuuri shot back. Emil looked confused, but scooped the kitten off the ground and cradled her to his chest.
Perfect. They're all taking her side—
“Lalli, I don’t know what your problem is with the kitty, but you have to—”
“Tuuri, what’s going on, why are you shouting at—”
No. Lalli wasn’t going to take any more of this. The little devil could have them. He shot a parting glare at her, which she returned with a smug yawn, and stalked into the tank. Enjoy it while you can, he thought, soon they’ll get tired of watching you sleep and they’ll expect you to do something useful. Then we’ll see who they like best.
The weather turned foul that night, rain that started slow and grew to a full-on storm. Tuuri ducked her head under the bed and informed Lalli that he wasn’t going out; Sigrun had decided it was better to wait. That was fine; Lalli didn’t want to come out. They’d probably try to make him hold the kitten again. And anyway, he was still recovering from his Luonto being gone. Better to stay here and sleep.
He woke in the night. Something was different. Wrong. Not wrong like a troll—his mage senses didn’t pick anything up. No, there was something wrong with his haven under the bed. Something here that shouldn’t be. Thunder crashed, and a tiny, high-pitched voice cried in Lalli’s right ear.
The devil. She was there, crouched right next to his head. He could see the shape of her when lightning lit the room for a second. Her fur stood on end, and unless his eyes deceived him, she was shivering. She saw him, seemed to know he was watching her. “Miu?” No trace of smugness now. She crept closer, edging under his blanket.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. This was his space. She could sleep with anyone she wanted, there was no reason for her to be down here. The thunder came again; she squeaked and darted forward, burying her face against his arm.
The gesture stirred up a memory: waking from yet another nightmare, convinced there was some malevolent creature coming for him. Crawling under the bed, the only place he could be safe, and pulling a blanket over his head. Hiding his face against the wall when the nightmares found him anyway.
“Stupid cat,” he muttered, “this is nothing. Just a storm.” She had no idea how much worse it could get. But...it probably wouldn’t hurt to let her stay. Just until the storm was over. Then she could go back to hogging all the attention and getting praised for existing.
“This doesn’t change anything,” he informed her as he settled her on his chest. “I still think you’re a devil.”
The kitten sighed and curled into a ball. Lalli told himself that the vibrations she produced were probably due to leftover fear, not because she was glad to be there. He was still thinking that when her purr lulled him back to sleep.