untamedantinous | open: voici un chat dans le café

It is finally spring. Finally warm enough for Enjolras to head outside and read to Temeraire without the extra heavy layer of a coat. He is intent on doing that, in fact, searching for their latest philosophical treatise amongst his piles of papers on his table. He is also searching for his notebook, planning on continuing some writing while he's outside and making a day of it. (Ballpoint pens are very convenient for that.) Enjolras has nearly found it when he is distracted by some shuffling coming from -- of all places, his closet.

After a moment's hesitation, he peers inside the piece of furniture to find two greeny-golden eyes staring back at him. "Oh," he says, with some uncertainty. "Hello."

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A good half hour later, Enjolras has made his apologies to Temeraire and can be found in the café, with his new friend curled up on his discarded coat on a chair nearby him. Enjolras is absently stroking her from time to time, engrossed in a book he at last found under his papers.