Cats

Cats are wierd. I have a cat. He is totally wierd.

I got the cat after a raid on a circus. We had just defeated a buncha clowns, and I found an orange cat wnderneath some over-large purple pants. I attempted to leave it behind, but it followed me back to the Bloodhound. Chieftain Gregory the Hairy stopped me from getting on.

"Why do you have that cat?" He asked.

"It followed me home. Can I keep him?" I asked back.

"Um... if it followed you home, why is it scratching your arms?" He asked.

"I SAID, it followed me home! Can I keep him!" I said menacingly as the cat aimed its head at me and hacked a hairball into my face.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't want you to keep him." Gregory said as the cat stabbed me in the eye with its tail.

"HE DOES, TOO!" I yelled as the cat hissed at the world in general.

The cat, whom I later named Archon the Cat (Arch for short), warmed up to me. But even now, he does wierd things I can't comprehend.

He crawls onto something I'm reading and refuses to move.

He sits on my face while I'm sleeping.

He throws up geometric barf.

He climbs up on me, closes his eyes, purrs for a bit, farts, then leaves.

Cats are wierd.

Olaf the BAAAAALD!