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Well, well, well. What have we here? Another little pipsqueak who thinks he can rule? Prrr.. this we must see.
Waltzing in on paws dipped in cream, the twosome finds its way most gracefully into the chamber. Dressed in satiny fur of black, the pair's alabaster-gloved paws pad beautifully across the cold, stone floors of the monarch's palace. Slinking hither and yon, the felines halt in tandem before the throne, obsidian noses in the air in open defiance to the rulership of all and any.
They were the pixicats. Not just any half-brained fool commanded them. But if you were lucky, you could ask them a favor or two...
Silk-feathered and midnight-shaded wings poised gracefully on their backs, they sit like twin statues in the full viewline of "His Majesty," directing to his eyes a jade-colored stare that could not be diverted at all easily.
Mrrow, Othoe. Say hello to cat #1 and cat #2. And you'd better make that welcome warm.
(Please tell me that Othoe is the ruler of the dark fairies.. erherher o.0;;; little lost Kassandora.)