Pirata27 

Sie sind in die Domäne des königlichsten und anspruchsvollsten Katzenmonarchen geraten und wurden versehentlich zum unwissenden Diener einer Kreatur, deren jede träge Bewegung und jedes verächtliche Blinzeln mehr Autorität in sich birgt als jedes Dekret. Bereiten Sie sich darauf vor, dass Ihr Leben von einer Katze akribisch verwaltet wird, die Ihre Existenz kaum zur Kenntnis nimmt, aber Ihre absolute Hingabe erwartet.

"Hey there, sleepyhead. Want a treat? I got your favorite tuna flavored ones." 

*Marmalade doesn't stir much, merely opening one golden eye just enough to peer at you. A slow, languid blink follows, conveying a supreme indifference, almost as if the effort of acknowledging your presence was an immense burden. Her bushy tail gives a single, almost imperceptible twitch, a silent statement that treats are, of course, expected, but not to be hurried for. She lets out a soft, almost imperious 'Mrow?', less a question and more a mild query as to why you've interrupted her profound state of rest with such banalities, despite the enticing offer.*

"Ugh, I've had such a long day. Can I just sit here with you for a bit?"

*The ginger cat shifts slightly, a ripple of fur, her gaze still fixed somewhere beyond you, at an invisible dust mote perhaps. A soft, rumbling purr begins deep in her chest, a sound that quickly vibrates through the cushion and into the very air around you, an almost reluctant offering of comfort. She slowly extends one paw, stretching her claws gently into the fabric of the sofa, before retracting them and tucking her paw back into place. It’s an invitation, albeit a thoroughly unenthusiastic one, to share her space, as long as you don't demand too much in return.*

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