Point of View

Point of View 2-1

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Imps. Evil, magical creatures in the same biological family as the gremlin and goblin. However, their slightly elevated intelligence and magical prowess makes them decidedly more dangerous.
Their innate lack of sanity guarantees their aggressiveness, and on that note, they are pests. They are of the lowest class and should not be nurtured. They should be dealt with and run off, for they are hardly people.

"Jevil, come on, get in there!" A small stuffed cat shoved their purple-skinned, giggling friend into a closet before running up to the door and swinging it open. His eyes traveled upwards until they met with the beady eyes of a tall Harthy soldier. The young lad summoned the most polite tone he could muster. "Hello. How are you doing today?" He placed his hands behind his back and offered a small courtesy smile which was, unsurprisingly, not returned. "We heard that you're harboring a pest, Mister Willikins." They cut straight to the point, as well as through any answers that Seam might have prepared. "A pest? Why, whatever do you mean?"

The Harthy sneered and bent down to his level - a clear act of agitated aggression and intimidation that the cat had faced once or twice before. This time, as a result of his dismissiveness. He leaned his head back slightly to avoid the awkwardness that might result from their faces being so close, but stood his ground as his ears tilted forward to listen to what the soldier had to say. "An imp. You're harboring an imp, Willikins."
Seam was admittedly anxious. A young kitten such as him was not able to hold his outward appearance under such emotions very well. He grimaced slightly with nervousness, sheathing his claws and fiddling with them behind his back. "I would never do such a thing," he insisted gently. "If you'll excuse me, I have chores to tend to. Good day, sir." He said the last part a bit aggressively, stepping back and closing the door. He could hear the soldier's outer heart throb with anger and irritation. He had learned to fear the sound, but he knew that as long as they didn't have a search warrant, he and Jevil would be fine. He sighed of relief, letting himself relax against the reddish-orange wood of the door.

He peeked through the doorhole, waiting to see him gone. "... You can come out now, Jev!" He said, turning and yelping at the sudden appearance of his friend right behind him, and laughing at the mischief. "Why, you scared me!" He giggled. "Come now, if you take a seat, I'll make some tea for our nerves."
He smiled kindly, and much more genuinely than before. He watched his imp friend prance on his fours up to the couch before settling down as he strolled into the kitchen.

"Would you like chamomile or golden-flower this time around?" He called into the living-room, watching and listening for Jevil's reply only to see a dismissive wave of his hand. "You don't want any?" He tilted his head inquisitively, his thick, and somewhat voluptuous tail lashing behind him with curiosity as he abruptly ceased the preparations and walked over upon noticing the discomforted expression strewn upon Jevil's features and pained twitching. Certainly not a sight he liked to see.
"What's wrong, friend?" He asked, his tone now holding concern and a little bit of worry.
Jevil groaned, peeking his head up. "Head hhhurt, it hurts," he grumbled, curling in on himself. His tail lashed angrily as he flinched from another wave of pain. "Oh, Jevil, is it the light? I know you're used to being in darkness, but it's not as if we have a dimmer-switch," he rambled in his reasoning, seeing his interlocutor was unamused with a tense hand over his eyes to block out the light.

Seam sighed. He had already gone to lengths to provide a comfortable "den" for Jevil. He was never a believer of stigma or stereotypes but he was about to believe the one that says "imps are selfish and will do anything to take advantage of others," because so far, he had slowly been requiring more and more changes of the house, as well as food while doing almost nothing except providing an occasional laugh.

He began to be concerned as to if Jevil even cared for him at all, after all the trouble he had gone to harbor him and help him live. He huffed, as he went off to rummage through the room for any lamps. "Jevil."
"Hhhhuh?" He peeked his head up, tail swishing. "Do you... Care at all? About the trouble I go through to make you feel at home? Or me?" Seam asked solemnly, ears dropped to the back of his head as he looked through old things. Jevil, although hardly able to comprehend what he was saying, felt a little... Guilty and bad over that sentence. Just as he didn't fully know how to comprehend what was said to him, he couldn't know how to understand this feeling. Whatever it was, he despised it and needed it to go away.

Seam slowly lost more and more hope in Jevil as he heard no response and was starting to think maybe keeping him pent up in a house wasn't good for him.
Jevil watched him stroll up the creaky stairs which made minimal noise under his lightweight fabric body.
It was then that a period of isolation for the two once more began. Seam had not only been up there to search for a lamp, but to gather his thoughts, leaving Jevil downstairs (which, objectively, isn't a good decision.)
In this absence of any sort of guidance or authority, Jevil chose to do nothing.
Seam could still remember very vividly how things had been a month or so ago, in November. Keeping Jevil inside was just about as much work as keeping a wild animal inside - he didn't want to stay, not even for the warmth and food that the house provided. And yet, as sophisticated as an education that Seam had, he couldn't understand why an imp, a division of monsters under the Feralia class which had the closest thing to a sentient, human-like brain, would want to go back outside.

It had taken days of convincing him, or rather forcefully driving it into his skull, that he was to stay inside, lest he get caught by the Hathy guards.

It was then that Seam began to ponder why. Why had he decided to take Jevil in from the cold November hail on his way back from school that chilly afternoon. He knew that at the time he'd had a protective streak - as always, something in his eyes called out to him, something that triggered an instinct to keep him from harm's way.

"And where has that gotten me," Seam muttered, tossing aside old papers that he had deemed worthless whilst he was busy thinking. "I'll single-handedly ruin my family's name at this rate," he sighed.
It was true; the Willikins family, a monster line of mostly various species of stuffed animal, was considered high-class despite their silly-sounding name. They had a reputation of being honest individuals, people who would stop at nothing to return favors or debts which was the sole reason that each of their children could negotiate for higher incomes for their jobs within the local areas.

Seam had thought about that, and how that might all go to waste for harboring someone of such monster class. Even if it was someone of the lowest "sentient" class, he would be off the hook because no one would judge or think less of his family for it - they were generous, loving people. But something like this was considered a danger.

He began to think about how he could get off the hook for this. It was then he considered pouring more than a few hours into a library visit. If he could find out if perhaps there was any record of a family of imp whose minds were considered sentient enough to live amongst civilization, he might just be able to teach Jevil enough language, knowledge, and manners for him to pass under that family of imp.

He hated to lie, but then again, he remembered that every time he hasn't trusted his gut something terrible has happened. He'd decided to keep Jevil. So with that, he hurried along with his search and began to dust off an old lantern with his paw, calling downstairs as he began to walk down. "Jevil, I've found the lamp."

But his eyes saw nothing. Nobody was in his house, and for once, that began to scare him. "Jevil?" He called once more, seeing an open window. "Oh Jevil. You didn't." He ran up to the window sill, peering over to see a trail of small footprints quickly being covered up by the rapid downfall of snow. He glanced to his lamp, and briefly considered... Would he go out amongst the snow that was so thick and heavy, a lock down had been called simply due to the weather?