Carry your tombstone like a backpack

Emy

Emy

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Ekaterina Dmitrievna Kalinina

Uncomfortably, she bent down and used her gloved hand to gently push the animal away. "Oh, just go away, please." Then to Aiden, she said, "There are animal shelters aren't there?"
 
Emy

Emy

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Ekaterina Dmitrievna Kalinina

With a quiet, resigned sigh, she picked up the kitty, holding the squirming thing rather awkwardly away from her. "I tend to avoid animals and other people in general," Ekaterina said, looking for a door to set it outside. "I wouldn't want to be mistaken for the rider on the white horse."
 
Emy

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Ekaterina Dmitrievna Kalinina

Not seeing the expression on Aiden's face, Ekaterina shrugged, struggling a bit with keeping the kitten under control. "Mostly because I'm pretty sure I'm carrying one of the strains of the Black Death," she said, matter of factly. "I think some people might already think I'm Pestilence incarnated and that is both terribly awkward and misleading. Wouldn't want people to panic. Anymore than they already do."
 
ReD

ReD

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"Oh my," Aiden said. "Well I suppose that is quite a reason. This is probably an unusual question but have you...have you seen a doctor about it?"

The kitten climbed its way up to her head, mewing frantically. It was summoning more. The tiny pitterpatter of ktiten paws could be heard across the hospital floors, running towards them at kitten-speeds.
 
Emy

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Ekaterina Dmitrievna Kalinina

"Yes, actually. Multiple religious figures as well," Ekaterina answered, feeling a rare spark of annoyance as she removed the kitten from her head. "Not that it did much good but -wait, what is that?"

There was the undeniable sound of animals running together. Many of them. Eyes widening, she frantically set the one kitten on the ground. "Wouldyougivemeamomentthankyou." Opening a nearby closet, she promptly took refuge in it, callously leaving her companion behind.
 
ReD

ReD

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"That's....hmmm," Aiden said, puzzling over the dilemma. How certain was she that she wasn't pestilence? He was an avatar of death, for lack of a better word, so it was possible war, death, and famine all had their correspondences. In his arrogance, he'd never considered it before.

And then she was in the closet. Aiden blinked, oblivious to the discomfort the many kittens pawing at the door must be calming her and said, "Are you okay in there? Would you like me to bring you your coffee?"
 
Emy

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Ekaterina Dmitrievna Kalinina

"I should be all right," she called from the other side of the door. Saying should because even if she wasn't claustrophobic, it wasn't like she wanted to stay in there all day. But it didn't sound like those kittens would be going away anytime soon anyways. "Just -ah. Give me a moment."

Searchingly, Ekaterina looked for anything that might help her. Bleach. Mop. Bucket. Paper towels. Kitten. Wait. On that last one, she did a double take just as the kitten on the shelf batted her gently on her bare cheek.

Loudly cursing in Russian, she scooped up the kitten, put it on the ground, and put the bucket on top of it. "All right, we might have a problem now," she informed Aiden through the door.