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Crowley was enjoying a nice summer-evening ride with Cropper when he heard the distressed calls coming from one of the bushes along the forest path. They seemed to be the scared squeaks of a cat, hurt or lost. He quickly dismounted, signalling his horse to stand lookout, and crouched beside the bush from which he thought the calls were coming. Pushing the twigs and leaves aside, he discovered a small calico cat curled in on herself, her tiny body taut with stress and her chest heaving with her rapid breaths.
‘What are you doing here, you sweet girl?’ Crowley murmured. He carefully extended his hand towards her, letting her sniff his fingertips. ‘Don’t you worry, I’m here to help.’
After she was done inspecting his fingers, the cat retreated her head a little and let it rest on the ground. She closed her eyes, as if the little movement she had done had taken all of her energy. Her breathing slowed as well, but her body trembled. The ranger took the fact that she had not shown any hostility as a sign he could gently pet the place between her ears. She seemed to like that, since she purred softly, barely audible, but there none the less.
Crowley moved his gaze to the rest of her body, looking for injuries. Blood caked her belly and hind paws, but with the amount of blood that had dried into her fur he couldn’t see where it was coming from. He made the decision to grab his cloak — which he had stuffed into his saddle bag when the heat from the warm summer day had become too much — and carefully picked the cat up and laid her upon it. She didn’t protest at all, didn’t even give the slightest reaction that might have indicated she was aware what was going on, which worried him. He needed to get her to a healer as quick as possible. He scooped her and the cloak up, and laid her down in his saddlebag, positioning the cloak under and around her in a way that it created something like a comforting nest, while leaving enough space around her head so she could breathe. Crowley glanced at her chest, which was still moving up and down, but not nearly enough for him to stop worrying, so he quickly mounted and urged Cropper to start moving. He hoped desperately that they would reach the healer before it was too late.
It was amazing how fast Patches — the name Crowley had given the little cat — had recovered. After visiting the healer, who had cleaned Patches’ wound — which turned out to be a big gash along her belly — stitched her up and prescribed her rest along with medicinal herbs and a pungent smelling salve to ward of infection, it had taken Patches two weeks before she had started to climb the furniture in Crowley’s home and try to knock over several ink pots.
The ranger commandant was trying to keep his cat from sending a stack of papers to the ground while breaking his head over what he should do with her, when someone knocked on the door and entered his apartment. From the rhythm of the footsteps — and the fact that only one person was so unimpressed by Crowley’s authority that he would dare enter his rooms without permission — he recognised that it was Halt.
‘I’m in my office,’ Crowley called out to his friend. He finally got a hold of Patches and held her firmly in his arms as he walked over to meet the other ranger.
Halt lifted one of his eyebrows. ‘I see you still haven’t decided what to do with that creature of yours.’
Crowley sighed. ‘I can’t seem to find anyone who would like to take her in.’
‘Something tells me you simply haven’t been searching hard enough.’ Amusement twinkled in Halt’s eyes.
Crowley remained silent for a while, and then reluctantly agreed, ‘Alright, yes, maybe I’ve gotten a bit attached to her over the past two weeks.’
Halt raised his eyebrow even further and shot a meaningful look at the cat curled up in Crowley’s arms. ‘A bit?’
‘Fine, a lot,’ Crowley groaned. ‘So what?’
‘So nothing. Just wondering wether you’re up for being a full-time cat-dad.’ The corners of Halt’s mouth curled slightly upwards.
Crowley could not completely contain a laugh either. He thought for a little while, looked around his messy office once more — to be completely honest, most of the mess was because of himself anyways — then to the cat in his arms, and then came to a conclusion. ‘Actually, I think I am.’