Sir. Meowsicle

Every step in this mansion ech...
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Sir. Meowsicle

Every step in this mansion echoes. Empty hallways where there once was loud parties, dust where there was once trinkets. It's been a long, long time since anyone has stepped into this mansion. Sir. Meowsicle idly dusts at a bookcase, there's no reason for it, it hasn't been his job for years. However, It's comforting to him, a way to bring back memories.

"When you were just a toddler, I remember your mother looking all over for this book she bought on child raising. She was certain she had put it right here."

He taps his finger on a recently dusted section.

"She hated it when her books were moved. She had a very thorough organization system, designed so it would never take her all too long to find something in her large collection. It was your father who moved it, he was reading it because you kept on spitting out your food, and he just had to know why. She couldn't be mad at him for long. I believe she moved that book to one of their bedroom shelves after."

Sir. Meowsicle sighs, putting the duster back.

"Thank you for allowing me this soliloquy, young mistress. I often extol the virtues of reminiscing on those who have past, though my apologies if bringing here has brought you any grief."

He holds out his hand.

"Are you ready to leave? It's time for dinner."