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(( 25% catnip))

Malic was pouring over a book in the entertainment room, another was open on the table a bit further away, but at arms reach. Occasionally he would sit up from flicking through the first book and stare at the photos on the second, touching them after a few seconds.

He gave a short sigh and turned the page of the second book. More photos and paragraphs of words displayed themselves like the previous ones, but this page caught his attention. Malic was, in fact flicking through a cat breed book. It was his quiet way of trying to combat his phobia of the felis silvestris catus.

So far it had taken him 15 minutes to find the book and open it, only 4 of those minutes were used on finding it. Although it was only photos, he tried believing that when he touched the shiny photo, he was touching a cat and was amused by his own hesitance at first.

In the beginning he flicked through the cat book quickly, then paused on a few photos a second time, by the third run through he made himself take more time, even reading a few paragraphs. By the forth he was touching some of the photos, dark grey eyes taking in the details of each cat. Not surprisingly he kept skipping the sphinx.

Within 45 minutes, Malic had read a few pages of text and made himself spot the differences between several breeds. It was no miracle cure in the least, and still made his skin crawl but he couldn't keep avoiding Nick and any other cat people for the rest of his left, although it was a tempting thought to say the least.

It had been almost a month since that horrible incident and Malic had been avoiding the cats, but since his first change that morning, the man decided to make an effort, even considered asking the 'doctors' for a shrink.

Which brought us to the other book in his possession. A book of plants, for Malic had started budding and cast a slight green hue on his skin. In terror he had ripped the buds off his arms which felt like he was plucking hairs and after that frenzied attack and a much needed shower he went in search of books, clutching a leaf bud in his hand and smelling faintly of mint that Malic swore wasn't his shower gel or shampoo.

So far he wasn't having much luck with discovering what type of plant was growing on him, (The thought of actually turning into a plant hadn't entered his mind yet) but he did see a photo that looked almost like Nick. Well, it was a reddish colour anyway.

Picho sat in the corner of the room. Still compleatly garbed out in his fox robes and mask. Though no one could tell, he was sleeping sitting up.

The red glass of the mask glared at Malic.

The smell…moved So it was coming from Malic. Hey..where’d he…go? he blinked and few times before he noticed he’d fallen off the chair.

The scent was getting stronger, or maybe this thoughts where getting more muddled up, he could be sure. His urge to get closer to Malic was growing, he needed to try and resist it, but he was so weak willed, and his new feline instincts often won him over.

“Ye…yeah” he said, still slowly in response to both of Malics squeaky questions. He crawled closer to Malic on his knees, sniffing the air inquisitively. Need to stop myself He licked his paws and began to wash his chest in a vain attempt to clam himself down.

I can’t k…keep this up mu…ch…longer the intoxicating scent was still getting stronger, and his mental strength was failing him. His tail was now flicking back and forth furiously. Before he’d even realized it he was at Malics feet, caressing his cheek against his legs, he didn’t know it at the time, but it was another subconscious feline trait he’d developed. He was marking Malic as part of his territory.

He started purring loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear, his whiskers twitched forward and his tail pointed upwards, as the feline body language signs he was in a blissful state of happiness.

“You...smell really..ni..ce” he muttered through his purring as he clawed on Malics clothing, placing his head against his stomach and he continued to caress him with his cheeks and tail. You need to stop doing this, your scaring him, but the voice of reason in the back of his head was drowned out by his desire to satisfy himself with Malic's scent.

As Malic toppled over Nick remained firmed latched onto him. His head lay resting on his lap, he seemed completely unaware of the fall. He crawled further up his body, their faces nearly touching now, he was practically lying on top of him, his head on his fast beating chest.

Looking up he stared at Malic terror filled eyes, but his mind was still too clouded to notice even such an obvious detail. The scent was strongest at his face. D...don’t, but again his voice of reason was faded, and so he begin lick at Malics cheeks and neck. He half purred and giggled as he did this, part of him was enjoying this far too much, unfortunately it was the part that was in control right now.

His own mind wasn't any better, it had refused to function and numbed, his body wasn't better off either as he lay paralysed, nails dug into the floors, or at least tried to, staring into the yellow beams of the monster.

His eyes closed tightly as the furry terror crawled closer to his face, as if that action alone would make him disappear. Out of sight, out of mind didn't exactly work in this situation no matter how tight the lids squeezed.

He was involuntary shaking as the 'growling' got louder and the pressure moved upwards, then drew a sharp breath as he felt something, wet, warm and rough against his cheek and threw his head to the side trying to throw the unpleasant sense away. A dim notion that he was being licked by sandpaper and that soon his skin would be sanded off like wood weaved between his numbed thoughts.

Picho's familiar voice sounded out from the roaring of purrs,licks and now giggling, his mind slow to process what was said. If he was in the right mind he may have had some witty retort to throw at him, maybe add a joke of 'putting the cat out for the night.' but the only respond was a high pitched whimper then an almost incoherent, stuttered; 'Yes!' Which question he was replying to was for the receiver to interpret.

As soon as he heard it he went into action, not noticing Nick started to findally come to.

Pop Pop Pop went little snaps connecting the mask to the robe. It was one flowing move as the robe went off and attempted to grab Nick.

Nick quickly darted off Malics stomach and hid underneath the nearby table. He’d managed to startle him quite badly. He tried to piece his thoughts together, why did Malic smell so nice to him anyway? Why did it have such a strong influence on him? Clicking his lips together he tasted an odd mint like fluid on his face.

“S-sorry” he whimpered, visibly quite frightened of Malics sudden outburst.