Kitty problems

Imagine an ordinary house cat. Sleek light brown fur. White fur in the underside. Super cute pink nose. Piercing blue eyes, with streaks of gold on the pupils. Now picture this beautiful animal from the perspective of a toad or a mouse. For them, it is a terrible and noble beast.

This beast did not seem like a beginner mob. Adam felt as if he just found the end-game boss. He started to question the direction of the story. The main character finds the end boss in the first 5 minutes, gets killed, swears revenge, and has to start to grow his strength from scratch. Those games SUCK!

He cannot follow the script. Adam hated those stories. He knew that since games started giving complete freedom of decision and movement, programmers had to allow for the story to change according to each player. He had to leverage that to avoid dying here.

The first thing is being honest with himself. There was no hope of defeating this animal. It was too big, too powerful, and honestly, too cute to harm. He either had to escape or find a workaround for the story.

Adam took a quick decision and jumped to the side, sliding on the creature's fur until he hit the grass on the side with a heavy "umpffff". He rolled himself just in time to see a brown paw half his size placing itself softly on top of his chest.

Adam froze. He was sure he was a couple of seconds away from being eaten or dismembered. House cats in the wild have pretty deadly habits, killing almost triple what they need to survive. Adam hoped this one was full and did not fancy himself trying something new.

The cat lifted the other paw, which allowed Adam to see its claws starting to pop out from the spaces in its fingers. They looked super sharp and almost the same size as Adam's arms. He would be cut to ribbons if they touched him. He knew this meant the cat did not felt threatened, but it did not like the current situation. Adam used to have a cat as a pet when he was younger.

This could not last. Adam decided to gamble it all and did the only thing he could to avoid getting killed. He brought his hands to the nearest patch of fur he could reach and steeled himself for one of the trickiest handlings he had ever done on a game.

He started scratching in a rhythmic tempo while at the same time singing as loudly as he could muster the hymn to cat ascendancy in the pet world.

"Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of furrrr..."

"Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr purr purrrr..."