azurelunatic | Like someone trying to eat a wiffle ball

I was awakened just before 5 by an unidentifiable crunching noise from somewhere near the kitchen (according to my ears, which were mostly asleep). Was someone ... doing something with the recycling? Doing something in the living room? Was Steph up already?

The noise kept happening, and it sounded like something that I would want someone else to deal with if it was a problem, but I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep with the number of questions it raised. I got up and spent a few moments trying to make out if the cat on Belovedest's legs was still in place. Probably not. I followed my ears.

To the front hall, not the kitchen. There was a dark outline on the floor, the shape and size of a combined small grey cat and an enormous sealed bag of liver treats.

Little madam was surprised to be scooped up off her prey. I tucked the bag into the closet where we [would] keep the bodies and closed it firmly. Little madam had some little words about that.

I lowered her to the floor and went back to bed, ignoring the indignant squalls that followed.

It's actual humans morning now, and she seems to have forgiven me. She was draped over the shapely curve next to me and purred when I extended a hand. She washed my arm.