sir that's my emotional support Frumpkin
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Summary
Without realizing it, Nott had collapsed to her knees by the cell door in despair, staring despondently into the shiny bauble in her hand that was now the only item she had to her name. Seconds passed, or maybe minutes, before distantly she heard the sound of a snap, and a swath of warm fur brushed against her outstretched hands.
“What?!” Nott shrieked, backing away from the sudden appearance of a cat, before stepping towards it again with a growing snarl, bauble forgotten as it rolled away from her feet. She had been surviving off rats and thrown away food for the past few months, so a cat wouldn’t be any worse.
She was about to pounce forward when a quiet voice spoke up from the back wall, a soft wheeze audible between phrases. “Bitte… don’t eat… my cat.”
