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In all her centuries of life and subsequent unlife Sylvanas Windrunner; Dark Lady, Banshee Queen, and Warchief of the Horde could not begin to fathom how the cat had gotten into her private quarters.
It was an adult judging by the size, it's body curled atop her writing desk as it napped under the solitary sunray in the room. It's size and thick white fur, with sparse stripes of yellow on its face and front paws were uncommon for felines in Orgrimmar. It's presence in her room was uncommon for anyone except for the Warchief and her Consort.
Sylvanas felt her ears initially prick forward in interest before pinning back against her skull in irritation. By the Sun, if Jaina Proudmoore had adopted a mangy stray cat while she was busy with meetings between their opposing factions (meetings her wife hadn't bothered to attend herself, Sylvanas noted) Sylvanas felt greatly tempted to "screw" the carefully constructed compact and start up the war all over again.
But starting a war would mean aggravating her wife. Who would then freeze the Warchief in an icy prison before pacing about the room as she aired her grievances and counterarguments to the then unable-to-answer-or-escape Banshee Queen. An event that had never occurred before. But one Sylvanas felt inclined to avoid.
And all the while Sylvanas weighed the pros and cons of starting a war over a cat, the blasted thing remained. Napping upon her desk without a care in the world.
Approaching silently and upon closer inspection Sylvanas found the cat to be fairly clean; well groomed even, with nary a speck of mud or dirt upon it's closer to grey than white coat or paws. If the cat had been a stray, Jaina had worked very hard to not make it look so. It wore a simple cloth collar the same blue as Jaina's cloak with two gold rings on the edges. The collar did not bear a tag nor any stitching to indicate a possible name. Not that Sylvanas would want to call the thing by name, or keep it for that matter. It was taking up a fair amount of space on her desk and that needed to change.
As if sensing Sylvanas's unwavering gaze the cat suddenly stretched out it's limbs as it yawned, small sharp claws peeking out from it's paws before retracting as it curled upon itself and stayed asleep. It was still sleeping in the middle of her desk but it was taking up less space than before.
If Sylvanas had need for breath she would have heaved a much put upon sigh. She had reports to do and a cat napping on her desk was no reason not to do them.
Reaching out to grab the cat by the scruff, Sylvanas's gauntleted hand barely touched the feline before it's relaxed ears pinned back against it's head and it curled further in upon itself. A slight tremor had overtaken its body, as if in its unconscious state it sensed something unpleasant was about to occur.
Immediately Sylvanas froze and stared at the creature. Cursing herself internally, she withdrew her hand and paced in front of her desk. This wouldn't do at all. Sylvanas could remember a time when she would have simply grabbed the cat and tossed it aside without a second thought. So why now was she hesitating?! Annoyance stirred within her chest but every time she looked at the cat the annoyance would lessen and fade.
It looked peaceful sleeping there... But peace was something Sylvanas couldn't stand to watch unless it was a specific person she was watching.
Gathering up her paperwork quickly, Sylvanas spun on her heel and stalked out of her chambers, a dark aura impressed upon her features that seemed to scare off anyone who glanced in her direction.
Good. Now she just had to find a place to do her work...