Sal, Butter and Pepper || ONC2024

Chapter 0: A far cry from the mundane

Sulvill
21th December, 2023

Butter waited by the door. He craved a break from Sulvill as much as his mistress, Pepper, did. With her meager salary as an assistant to the magistrate- in charge of keeping a check on all magic folk in their district lest their existence get exposed- there wasn't much more than their one bedroom apartment she could afford despite her superior skills and talents.

As far as Butter was concerned, the pale gray, lackluster walls, defective air-con, and worn furniture that the humble dwelling boasted of were (absolutely) not worthy of his mistress. But there was not much he could do about it, being as he was but a kitten.

Pepper was turning twenty-five soon...sooner than Butter would have liked. His green-rimmed irises moved from the front door to the calendar. His mistress had brought it from work almost a year ago.

"Two more days, Butter. Hang on for just two more days," he said, licking his paws. It was one of those yucky habits he had picked up to get along with others, to blend in with his peers, the real felines, all those centuries ago.

Polpom was not kind to witches and wizards. Luckily, the world had moved on. Now, humans had better things to do than catching and apprehending mostly innocent magical folk. Even the magical community had organized themselves into strong units, ready to defend their families. Of course, that was just a rumor, a relatively-new wives tale, if you will.

"Where is Pepper?" he said, glancing at the old grandfather clock standing un-aesthetically next to the coat rack. The hour hand was almost at five. "I hope her day wasn't terrible," he mused, mapping the tiny porch like a worried parent. For all intents and purposes, he was one. Who said that parents and children had to be the same species? Not Butter, that's who.

The truth was that Pepper was a super-duper, hard-working witch. Butter, in his terribly long life, had outlived twenty-four Woodgrips. Pepper was the twenty-fifth. Butter hoped she would live a long, happy life even when he wasn't around.

Butter was ready to say his goodbyes. He had been since his first mistress, Patty Woodgrip, had breathed her last.

"Are you thinking about how you can kick the bucket?"

The kitten stopped prancing around; his gaze followed the bubbly voice. "My friend, glad to see you are up and about." He jumped up and into the waiting arms of the easy chair next to the coffee table. "How are you doing?"

"Better. The pH of the water was the issue, after all. Thanks for letting Pepper know. I appreciate it." The veil-tailed pink betta fish, aptly named Betta, swam towards Butter. "Do not try to change the subject, Khun Butter. Are you thinking about the inauspicious thing again?"

"The Saviour of Woodgrips is ready to meet his maker," he announced to the betta fish.

"Tsk. Tsk. Stop it, or you will manifest it, Khun," the Asian fellow said. Pepper had brought the fish a month ago to keep her familiar company. The two had hit it off right away.

"Fine, I will not think about it anymore...today. Happy?"

"I will take what I can get, Khun," Betta replied, swimming to the top of the bowl. "I was wondering how you ended up with the Woodgrips. Care to share?"

"Right..." The blond kitten immersed his paw into the fish tank, creating ripples on the surface. "Want me to pet you?"

"You know, I am not the prying kind. You can refuse. And yes, I would love to be pet. Thank you."