Characters:Vivienne/Firestarter
Vivienne lowered her hands and surveyed the being that had come in response to her summons.
"You're a cat."
He regarded her with eyes of green flame. The tip of his tail twitched slightly. "You're a human."
"Yes, thank you, I had noticed," she replied curtly. "I was looking for a fire elemental, not someone's stray pussycat, you know."
He gave her a cat-smile, all lifted whiskers and perked ears, and padded up to rub against her skirt. His body left a trail of flame like a tracer, brief and quickly fading. "I'm both."
She watched him move for a moment before reluctantly agreeing, "I suppose you are. Come along, then. We have work to do."
"Why are you still here?"
He sat and began grooming a paw. "I am a cat."
"You're setting the rug on fire again."
Unconcernedly, he began grooming his tail.
"I don't suppose you know how to not be on fire, do you," Vivienne observed as she retrieved a vase and upended water and lilies over the burning carpet.
"Not yet," he answered, leaping off the rug and onto stone. A few inches of tail drenched by water suddenly stopped burning, revealing chestnut and amber fur. "I can do that much."
Vivienne studied the tail-tip thoughtfully. "Only when you're wet?"
"Only when I'm wet."
"If you're going to stick around, maybe we should work on that."
His ears flattened. "I don't like being wet."
"Well, you had best figure it out quickly, then. These vases get refreshed every morning."
"I did it," the cat observed, looking down his side at a coat full of fur.
"Now you need to learn to do it without the water," Vivienne replied. "It's starting to smell like mildew and wet cat in here."
"You've never given me a name," Vivienne said suddenly.
"I've never had one," he answered.
"Then I think I'll call you Firestarter." She laughed. "It will be a joke of sorts."
"Are you not always complaining that I start fires?" he asked quizzically. "Why would that be a joke?"
"I'd like you to stay as a furry cat," she answered. "If you have fur, you're not starting fires until I need them. Then it will be a secret between you and I, and we can call it a joke because your fur is the color of fire."
"Ah." He considered the suggestion. "Fur is strange."
"I imagine. But you certainly can't have cream without it, or raw meat. And I can't do this." She reached over and scratched his jaw, smiling as he leaned into it.
The tail-tip flicked. "You are correct. I suppose I can stay fur."
"I thought you might say that."
