I'm not certain if I fell asleep. I couldn't be blamed if I had. The steps below follow a smooth, steady rhythm, the fur is soft and almost impossibly warm, and I can feel just the faintest hints of a heartbeat below, drumming along in a gentle, relaxing rhythm. Maybe I wasn't asleep, but I was most certainly close to it, my mind almost entirely clear of thoughts, simply idly taking in the sensations around me. Quieter food. Hmph. I can be quiet sometimes!

"You know..." the creature beneath me says, catching me off guard. Is this the first time that it had spoken up, unprompted. What a momentous occasion! "That thing that you carry... you called it an instrument, right?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. What about it?" I ask, brought back to awareness even if I'd never quite lost consciousness.

"You could play that a little more." it says. "You know... if you really want to."

I sit upright, very much confused. "Well, yeah. You didn't stop me earlier, so I'd just assumed that I could whenever, unless you told me otherwise."

"Right." it says. There's a hint of... something? in its voice. "Right. I just wanted to let you know."

Such an odd thing to say, especially for a somewhat tight-lipped creature. Sure, someone like me says odd things all the time, law of averages and all that. Say enough words and a certain portion of them are bound to be very strange, especially since I speak with so little purpose, but my new friend here is quite different. When it says something, anything, it's always for a reason. That's when it hits me. "Would you... like me to play?" I ask, head tilted to one side, less than convinced myself.

An annoyed grunt. "Of course not! Well, I mean it's not like I'd dislike for you to play. I'm just saying that I don't care one way or the other."

A sudden realization hits me. I struggle to come up with exactly what to say in response before finally coming up with. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" the annoyed tone continues.

"I'm sorry that I frightened you. I can assure you that I didn't mean to!" I insist.

The creature stops in its tracks. Its body tenses, and it seems to struggle with deciding whether to be angered, confused or amused. "Why would I be frightened of the likes of you? Why would you even think that?"

"Honestly, I have no idea why you would." I say, "But you are. You were clearly lying. You did want me to play, after all, and people only lie because they're scared."

"That's ridiculous!" it huffs. "People don't lie out of fear, they lie to help get what they want."

"Yeah, and they're scared that they won't get what they want by telling the truth." I say. "Sometimes they're scared of actually getting hurt, or being judged or being embarrassed. That the truth will somehow damage them, but I don't know why you'd be scared to be honest with me. I wouldn't think any less of you, and hey, even if I did, I'm just food! Who cares what I think?" I grin. "That's one of the nice things about having people not respect your opinion at all... they have no reason to lie to you." I pause once more. "Um, does that mean that you do respect my opinion? That you care what I think of you?"

"Of course not." it says with an annoyed grumble. "And I wasn't lying. I don't want anything from you, aside from filling my stomach when I will it. You can do whatever you want in the meantime."

As tempted as I am to press the issue further, I decide against it. I know so little about these creatures, after all, and don't wish to push too hard. In truth, I wasn't even sure that my friend had lied, and it was likely an unfair accusation to make. Still, I'm not one to leave things unsaid when they pop into my mind. Maybe my instincts were wrong, but either way, they hardly mattered. I sit up, taking up my instrument, nestling the rounded wooden bottom of it against my inner thigh, the neck of it rested under my chin and begin to play. Not simple scales or basic experimentation, but a proper song. I don't really know any, in truth, but I do know the sounds. I know which ones I like. I know which ones sound particularly pleasant together, and which flow effectively into others, and thus I play.

I don't focus on my ears, as I'm realizing more and more that it's a mistake to do so. It takes a moment to strum, hear and properly respond to a sound, during which time the rhythm is already spoilt. No, proper music isn't played with the ears, it's played with the fingers. It's about quick and subtle motions of them, a sort of elaborate puzzle where one swift movement leans into the next, where you don't properly think or respond, you simply act, and from that, as though completely unrelated, sound follows. Still not quite right, though. My fingers are too short, too slow. There aren't enough of them in relation to how many strings there are, and for every note that I play, I'm acutely aware of the dozen that I don't. That I can't. There's not enough time, not enough room, and yet those missed notes, each and every one of them still linger in my mind, silent accusations of my failure.

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My earlier frustrations resume, leaving me tempted to simply toss the device aside, even if that would be punishing an innocent instrument for my own weakness, but I can't. I think that my friend still wants me to play, even if they won't admit to it, for reasons that I can't possibly understand. I owe it to them to continue, and thus, continue I do. All of those stacking, compounding failures continue to fill my mind, but are a little easier to ignore when I'm playing for the sake of someone else.

"Stop." it says, and I do so at once. Perhaps they also realized just how poor my playing was, or perhaps I'd misread them and they had never wanted me to play at all. Those were valid options, very plausible ones, but I soon detected another. A new scent approaching, similar to that of my companion, yet very much different.

Dull foot-pads approach, and a soft, melodic voice rings forth. "Well, well, it's been a while..." it says. It's much different from my friend's, gentler, less of a low rumbling reverberation, more pronounced and clear but no less beautiful in its own way.

"Yeah, it has." my friend replies in a bored and disinterested tone. It's a little comforting to know that it used that voice to address other creatures besides me.

"And who might this be?" the newcomer asks, leaning in close, giving me a long sniff. Their fur smells much different, with almost a herbal, minty quality to it?

"Hi! I'm Food!" I say proudly. "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Mmmm, yes, that you are." it says. My friend backs away a step, but the newcomer closes the distance instantly. "So very polite, as well!" I detect a faint sense of wetness as the newly arrived dark lord licks their lips. "So rare to see a mouse which knows their proper place in the world." the attention of the newcomer turns to my friend. "How about we share it? It's not much between the two of us, I'll admit, but I promise I'll make it up to you later..."

"Oh, that sounds really nice!" I grin.

"Forget it." the creature beneath me says in a curt voice. I just noticed how tense the muscles underneath my rump have gotten, with the fur around me standing on end. "She's mine."

A teasing laugh, more musical than anything that I could hope to replicate on my instrument emits from the newcomer. "Oh, it's 'she' is it? I didn't realize that you two were so acquainted. Well, I suppose I can find my own dinner, but should you change your mind, you know where to find me."

The creature beneath me quickens its pace, muscles still tensed and feeling very alert. Something about this whole situation seems off, and I can't quite figure out why. Sure, I remembered the discussion about territory and the like, but this other creature didn't seem to be in any way aggressive, and yet my friend seems strangely annoyed. Finally a theory comes to mind, and I can't help grinning like a fool.

"Was that a... girl dark lord?" I ask, suspecting that I already know the answer.

"Cat. We're called cats." it sighs. "And yes."

"And you... you're a male 'cat' right?" I ask, grinning wider still, also having a really good idea of the answer.

Another long, low, sigh. "Yes, I am."

I can't help it. I erupt into a fit of wild giggles, lying back against the thick fur. "Teehee! She likes you!" I finally blurt out.

"Ugh, grow up." it, or that is to say 'he' grumbles.

"What, don't you like her? What's wrong, is she ugly or something?" I ask, although I don't really have much grasp of what 'ugly' even means.

"She's... fine." he says, his pace slowing, the earlier tension fading from his muscles.

"Well then, what's the problem? Why didn't you take her up on the offer? I can understand the hesitance to share food, but you don't seem to be particularly hungry, and the whole thing sounds super romantic!" I say with a sigh, a much different sort of sigh than I usually hear from my companion, one of gentle contentment, thoughts of love and affection filling my mind. Finally another idea hits me. "Oh, are you one of those males who's into other males? It's okay to tell me, I won't judge!"

"What? No! I am not into male cats." A growing rumble of familiar annoyance in the voice.

I stop to think for a moment, trying to put the pieces of this new puzzle together in my mind, when I'm hit with a horrifying realization as I think back to the words of the female cat.

"Um, don't get me wrong, I'm sure you're really attractive and all, but I just can't see it working out. Size differences and all that, for a start. Now, I fully understand that it's not my decision to make, but it just seems like a bad idea. Then there's the issue of hygiene, if you decide to eat me after you've had your way with me..."

A full body shudder, nearly knocking me from its back. "What's wrong with you?" he asks.

"Who, me? A lot of stuff. Like I can't see, for one thing... I'm also scared of thunder... am terrible at arts and crafts. Oh, and one of my legs is a little longer than the other!" I say. "It's the funniest thing, exactly which leg is longer switches seemingly at random from day to day. Oh, and then there's this kink that I have in my tail..."

"No, not that..." he grumbles, "Why's your mind in the gutter all of the sudden?"

I'm not exactly sure what he means. "What's wrong with gutters?" I ask, recognizing the negative tone, "Some of the greatest mice in history have lived in gutters!"

"Why does that not surprise me." the cat sighs, shaking his head. "Anyways, let me make this abundantly clear: I don't like her, I don't like male cats, and I especially, especially, don't like you! Got it?"

I think on this for a moment. "So... what do you like?"

"Food and naps." he says. "That's about it."

"Aha! So you do like me!" I grin.

He freezes in place, tensing up and shakes all over. For a moment I worry that he's overcome with rage, but instead laughter bellows out from that thick, rumbling throat of his. "Heh, I guess you've got me there." he says, finally recovering from it.

I can't help but smile, but am overcome with confusion as even though I believed that my friend had stopped moving, I find myself losing my footing. My head seems to spin, and all sense of up and down is entirely removed as for a few moments I'm no longer touching anything, truly floating through the air. It's a short-lived sensation, however, as the ground, in short order, makes me very much aware of its presence.