[Tevildo]

Tevildo cautiously eyed the two women and the sleeping cat, pondering what he should do. He would have preferred to eat in privacy, away from the prying eyes of the two-leggeds. But his stomach was growling loudly and the hearty aroma of chicken fat was hard to resist. With his tail rhythmically twitching back and forth, he sidled up to the three bowls, ignoring the saucer of milk and going right to work on the chopped chicken from the stew pot that had been generous flavored with a dollop of gravy.

He had to admit that these little folk knew how to cook. This dish was considerably better than anything he and his mistress had found earlier that week in the Prancing Pony. It looked to be the older woman--the one called Cook--who was in charge of the kitchen and responsible for the various delicacies being taken out to the guests. Tevildo would not stoop to being called "Cook's little pet" as the older tabby evidently had. But he was not unappreciative of someone who showed such skill in the cullinary arts.

Finishing the last of the food in the bowl, Tevildo sat back on his haunches and delicately licked the final morsels from his paws. Then he lay down, curled up contentedly in a small ball, and began to purr loudly, all the while vigorously cleaning his coat with the small barbs of his pink tongue. Once he looked up and seemed to grin at Cook, showing a line of sharp teeth all perfectly matched and suitably sharp.

Once he was satisfied that he was perfectly clean, Tevildo again rose and slipped gingerly between Cook's legs. The older woman was standing in front of the fire and stirring something in a large pot. Tevildo stopped to rub against her ankles and then paraded out of the kitchen, heading purposely down the hallway towards the pantry where he thought he heard the scuffling sounds of mice.

Out in the Common Room, he could hear another familliar voice: that of his mistress and supposed 'owner' who had finally found her way to the Inn.