"Écho̱ párei cheirótera. Pistépste me. Gatáki nýchia den me epi̱reázei tóso polý," he said, holding the kitten with one hand as it cupped her hindquarters. The swishing of her little tail sent little tingles across his skin. The shirt moving slightly with the swaying of her tail. His brows furrowed with curiosity when he heard Midnight had been in a bad mood for a couple days.
"Xérete giatí?"
[[ Translations :: I've gotten worse. Believe me. Kitten claws don't affect me that much.
:: Do you know why? ]]