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The fluffy thing in question, called Lissel by her guardian, and Kitten by almost everyone else, was in the kitchen with Ques. She had her small hands wrapped around a delicate porcelain cup of tea, to which she was adding far too much sugar. She knew it was far too much sugar, and so did Ques, he was giving her a look that meant 'that is far too much sugar'. And though she and Ques had only met that week, she could read him neatly. Could read anyone, really. Didn't mean to.

At the sound of Kian's voice, her ears twitched, and after a seconds hesitation, she jumped from the chair that was too high for her onto the ground, standing on tip toe to get her tea off the table.

"Oh my, the boy." She murred the words softly to the serene monk, who had not even glanced toward the call. "He doesn't like me, not really, but you see I can't really ignore him, can I. And he's so very nice, he really is. Oh my."

It was a burden sometimes, always knowing how people felt. So she knew she made him uncomfortable. Knew it and had delicately done her best not to cross the poor sweets path. He was a darling really. She didn't want to make him miserable.

But he was calling. Teacup cupped delicately in her small hands, she crossed the threshold into the kitchen, and tried to give him her sweetest, most winning smile. Maybe he would warm to her, given a chance.

"Hello, dear. You called?" Her voice had a definite feline undertone, purred out from a throat made for purring. The cup was almost oversized in her hands. She stood, innocent, guileless, projecting affection and genuine love for all species, the boy included. She couldn't help it. It was the way she was made.

Lissel did not speak until Kian had finished. She stood, and sipped politely at her tea, and her tail lashed idly across the floor. At one point, she reached up to carefully readjust the bow over her right ear. Her gaze was not steady, as Autsu's might have been, instead her eyes moved from haphazard pile to haphazard pile. Work to be done.

But the boy first. Poor boy. What on earth had she done to frighten him off? Was it the fur? The white? Was he afraid she'd shed on him? As a reader of feelings, not thoughts, she was left with a lot of guess work. And that meant not knowing exactly what to say, when he finally announced his impending insanity.

Stepping forward, she stroked the couch lightly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. What to say, what to do. She just wanted to hug him and tell him he'd be all right. There was a lot of old pain. They all had old pain.

"Of course honey, I'll point and you can push, right?" A small smile. She certainly wouldn't be moving the couch herself.

But come, she would take the bull by the horns. Nervous determination touched the air, mingling with the love she still projected. "But please, dear, would you prefer Ques? Have I upset you?"

"Oh. Oops." Lissel put one tiny paw to her mouth, covering it in mild dismay. So it was her empathy that was so unsettling him? But, she couldn't protect the sweet boy from that, not really. A last gift from her gentle ones, and she had no way to turn it off. She could feel his discomfort, and his unhappiness at having been called out about it. But there was little she could do.

The feelings that radiated from her shifted, though love still radiated, it mingled with guilt now, and soft sadness.

"I... I didn't mean too. But, you see, I can't help it. It's empathy. You feel what I feel." A small frown, as she considered. "But I like you, dear. You're a lovely boy. You needn't be unhappy with that."

"Oh, honey." Soft voice, soft sympathy and that 'soft emotion' so strong that it could probably drown the both of them. Lissel crossed the room in light, almost bouncing motions and touched Kian's arms gently. Perhaps she would have touched his cheek, were it not so difficult for her to reach. "You didn't have it easy where you came from did you? Not if you didn't know love."

"That's why this place is so important." This last bit said almost as an aside, murmured with quiet thoughtfulness.

Soft fur and tiny hands as the white cat stroked the black reptilian boy's arm lightly. The contrast of the two of them was almost funny.

"It's love, dear. Not romance, no worries. Just love. You're a sweet boy, and I'm glad to know you, you see?" She tilted her head slightly to the side, "Haven't you ever loved someone?"

Lissel was quiet for a moment, listening to Kian's words and matching them to the emotions she was picking up off the boy. Sympathy filled her, and she felt a lump in her throat as she mourned for the poor once Kian, the one who had not been taught to love. She could cry for others, even those who did not think to cry for themselves.

"Sit, honey. The room can wait." She crawled up onto the couch, straightening her skirt with careful fingertips. One tiny paw reached out to pat the seat next to her, and she looked up at Kian expectantly.

"Maybe if we talk for awhile, you'll get used to me? It'll be good for you. We all... we all need love." Again, there was sadness there, whether for the world or for her personal tragedies, it didn't matter. "To accept it, and give it."

Oh wisdom, oh tiny fury psychoanalyst, oh gossipy 50s housewife. Regardless of how one wanted to see her, it was clear enough that she was trying to help.

There was a certain awkward charm to Kian that only increased Lissel's affection toward him. It was like that with most people actually, the more she talked to them, the more she became fascinated by their individual workings. She adored uniqueness. Maybe she just adored.

So the hesitant pat was greeted with a nudge against that same hand, and she leaned against the young man as he spoke, her 'soft radiation' like an unheard purr. This was a very content kitty, listening in silent respect to the words of someone she cared about.

Three minutes in, and she wanted to buy friendship rings.

"Your brother seems confused himself." She murmured in soft comment when he fell silent. "There's more to love than romance and sex."

Her tail curled into her lap, and she petted it absently, running her fingers through her fur.

"But it's still good, if you want it. Do you want romance? You don't have to be good at it first, really. Love either." She smiled up at him, a gentle expression. "You just have to try. If you want to."

"You shouldn't do anything you don't want to."

But there had been something she'd read on the air, just a flash of it. What it was, well, that was for him to decide.

"Oh honey, lets not talk about punishment." She was reproachful now, lower lip pouting out. She allowed herself a sigh, and looked around the room they had yet to decorate with what might be sadness. Guilt or no, for any of them, she wanted this to be about growth, not penance. "Its such a nasty idea."

She curled closer against him; her feet did not touch the floor. She needed people. It was nice of him, to allow her close. It was very lonely, sometimes. Her dear ones...

A wash of pain, and she made no attempt to hide that from him. She couldn't, even if she had wanted to.

"Dear, if you say love is pain, you know it well enough."

Sometimes this life was so much harder than dying for them had been. That hadn't hurt, not this way.

Pain and love, and if he wanted to know what it felt to feel that way, he could taste it on the air now. Not bitter-sweet, there was no bitterness in her. Just a hopeless sort of regret.

She wished she could have given more.

"But pain... well... you know that already."