...Didn't this man have a demon to fight? Anders doesn't know why Michel's still around. Things had sounded urgent. But on the other hand, he wasn't going to complain about someone possibly helping the poor cat. Anders had never been good at climbing trees, and he wasn't about to make a poor attempt while wearing robes. There was far too much risk he'd wind up mooning the whole garden area, and while he had a nice ass if he did say so himself, he had no desire to share the sight with everyone.

"Do you often climb into trees after cats?" There's always a need to talk, in Anders' books. Words are far better than silence. His voice is neutral enough as he watches; he hadn't thought Michel to be the type to help cats. Then again, if you're head is in the clouds enough to think that you have to right things for all people all at once in order to help anyone, maybe you think that saving cats is part of it.

The cat mews plaintively as it watches the man coming closer, tail drooping.

"She's scared. She batted one of the mabari on the nose and fled. Please be kind to her." It isn't like he can really take a cat in, but he can look after them when they dart across his path. Especially the ones that are bold enough to go after something bigger. He knows how she feels.