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The two men stood up at the appearance of the cats. Stamo scooped up the cowering mice and put them in an inner pocket of his cape. The little wren followed soon after, taking his place in yet another compartment. Mori stepped forward as the other birds took flight, seeking perches beyond the reach of the three felines.
‘What brings you to the inn, Master . . . Cat?’ Mori asked, his gaze fixing on the large white feline. The others were tough looking brutes, but this one, he thought to himself was the thinker of the trio; the others his muscle. Though, looking at the size of him, he would hardly need such furred cronies to stand up for him. ‘We’re here enjoying the warmth of these embers and sharing a tale or two to pass the Yule. Did you and your . . . companions come to spin a story for us?’
Behind Mori, and a little to his right, Stamo stood artlessly alert, his staff gripped lightly in his left hand
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