Well I’ve found one subject not to bring up to a cat.
I wonder when I’ll see him again. The look he gave me when I wondered if I’d ever see my dog again was priceless. I mean, I know the answer is never, but apparently just the idea that I willingly associated with canines was more than enough. I should probably try to apologize to the annoying creature, though. The dog in question was a childhood pet, and died at least a decade before I got sucked into this insane place.
If he comes around again, I might mention that. Or I might let him stew some more. The cat clearly is one of the many parties that want to manipulate me into doing something. Some of them seem to even want the same things. I haven’t worked out what the cat wants, but I strongly suspect he’s somehow using Gwen to get his way without being obviously involved. But what sort of hold he has on a dragon is something I can only speculate about. I promised Gwen that I would ask no personal questions. I came close to the line by asking her about the cat at all, judging from her reaction. I don’t want to find out what might happen if I crossed that line.
I had thought we were getting closer, but it might all have been my imagination. She still has not offered to show me her real form since that first encounter on the trail. Nor has she openly acknowledged what she is, just hints here and there.
I have had free run of the residence, the human-scaled parts at least. I still haven’t quite worked out how the servants come and go. I assume it is something mundane like an ample supply of service passages, dumbwaiters, and the occasional discretely placed doorway. Somehow my room does get made up when I’m out and about, and I’ve never spotted the staff at work. Even if it were Gwen doing it all when I’m not looking, I’d still expect to find some evidence of that. Nope. My room is always neat, clothes cleaned, bed made. Meals turn up on the patio, in the dining room, or occasionally in my suite. They usually turn up where I expect to find them, but again without any overt service staff.
Not that this minor mystery bothers me. I’m sure it is something no stranger than an elderly caretaker who simply does not want to be seen. I’m pretty sure it is not the cat, though.
But all of this is procrastination.
I am supposed to be spending this hour contemplating the question of the chicken.
I was given no further hints. I’m not sure if she was referring to the chicken and egg question, the road question, or the karmic question of what did the largest and meanest dinosaurs do exactly to survive primarily into our time primarily in the form of a chicken?