Bean Sidhe has taken to his newest sibling with glee. Finally a playmate, a bosom-friend, a partner in crime ! Finally someone with whom he can romp all over the House of Chaos all the time without the other one suddenly complaining about old age and infirmity limiting his energy. It doesn’t matter to the Maine Coon mix that he has grown into a monster compared to the kitten he now plays with, it matters that said kitten has that near-mythical kittenish purrclear-reactor-in-a-pocket-dimension somewhere stashed about his tiny purrson and all of its energies at his disposal. Ever since Hrimnir started viewing the much larger kitten with speculation in his eyes rather than downright hostility Bean Sidhe has approached him slowly and cautiously with play in mind.
Ach, it is a marvel to behold the two kittens at play. Despite his size and his 13 months of age Bean Sidhe is technically still a kitten and the two elder feline denizens of the House of Chaos have become rather grumpy lately about his incessant efforts to incite them to enter in some frolic with him. Hrimnir doesn’t complain, he happily welcomes the attention and answers it with a vengeance. So much in fact that Bean Sidhe himself found the need to become grumpy at times when the tyke wouldn’t stop attacking his tail. But that is a minor inconvenience. Much to his pleasure however came the discovery that his size meant he wouldn’t have to move too much during their pursuit of happiness: Hrimnir would do the attacking, Bean Sidhe merely has to keep to swatting the tyke off his august purrson from time to time. No need for him to go off stalking and pouncing, since Hrimnir is all over the place anyway. For the hedonist that every feline is at heart, and Bean Sidhe is a budding one for sure, this is the ultimate game-play… merely lying in style somewhere and fending off with lazy swats and cheerful chomping on the culprit, whilst not moving one paw or whisker too many. “Lazy butt” won’t come close to describe this, and Bean Sidhe himself prefers to refer to this novel fighting style as “languishing menace” anyway.
However, when he does get to moving more than a paw when dealing with Hrimnir’s energetic attacks, Bean Sidhe is not loath to use all of his mass to his best advantage. It’s impressive to observe his 4,3 kilos romping about with 1 kilo of Hrimnir without fatally flattening the tyke, and yet he manages to perfectly convey the image of a ferocious fighting frenzy with a hapless opponent destined to doom. The bear-hug embrace of his mighty fore-paws and the sight of his well-muscled thews powering the catastrophic kicks of his massive hind-paws would plunge any onlooker into a towering and frantic worry for Hrimnir’s well-being but… mind you… without any sign of his strong and razor-sharp claws at all. The orange-and-white giant is surprisingly gentle with his 4-times smaller adversary, who would erupt in indignant and ear-shattering protests the moment he goes too far and inflict some discomfort on the tyke at all. Hrimnir is anything if not out-spoken and most vociferous when it comes to expressing his displeasure at anything. He won’t let 4,3 kilos of frolicky feline deter his righteous wrath anyway, but then he’s been seen -and heard- chiding The Mistress.
And lives to tell.
Observe then, the two kittens at play:
Bean Sidhe simply lies there, residing regally in the lush green splendour of the Garden of Chaos, a perfect portrait of “Cat, Languishing”. A small black-grey-white furry shape slowly makes its way through the grass, making a bee-line towards the hulking giant who is clearly ignorant of any imminent danger to his august purrson. The small shape stops, not in hesitation, but with the muscle-quivering intent to crouch and pounce, tiny tail rigidly stuck out like a horizontal flag-pole, tiny buttocks wiggling in happy anticipation of the oncoming action.
Then he pounces.
A huge paw was lifted and then descended with lightning-speed on the little kitten. Bean Sidhe didn’t even have to exert himself overly, the force of gravity alone doing the trick well enough thank you very much. Well enough to keep pinning a squirming tyke to the ground too. Said tyke, however, immediately turns on his back and sets with claws and fangs to attacking the offending appendage, but to no avail. Bean Sidhe is, by legacy of his mother’s breed, quite well-endowed in the furry department and all little Hrimnir can get is a mouthful and clawful of pelt and nothing else. Which wouldn’t discourage the little one in the least since any bite and scratch dealt out is a point scored. What matters is the game, not the results !
After a while Bean Sidhe grows bored of this and sets to chomping on the little one’s head, starting with the ears. The problem is that Bannikin’s mouth is a tad large in size when compared with Hrimnir’s furry little head and so one has the impression of seeing a cavernous set of maws opening up around the tyke and then swallowing it up entirely. One wonders whether he’s suffocating the youngster, since the little legs start a frantic kicking against whatever they can touch, but as the minutes drag by said frantic kicking doesn’t in the least diminish in force or quantity, and one can be assured that these are no death-throes at all.
Yet, a worried Mistress couldn’t resist calling on Bean Sidhe and the disgusted look two offended kitties subsequently gave her bespoke volumes. Killjoy !
Maybe we should hop over to the Carnival of the Cats and watch some real clowns in action there…