And Then... It took a while for Van and his druidic friend, Gorfnar, to come realize that what they observed about Rysk wasn't some outside prank and illusion. She had always been a smart kitty, but just how smart she was
now – clearly a genius, even by human standards, that much was clear when she begun mimicking minor spell casting and to actually read the arcane books aside Van instead of just watching the pretty pictures.
Aside her intelligence, not much else had changed however – she was otherwise as much a cat as she had always been. With intelligence augmented beyond norms she in an instant became a true menace to the local vermin, for example in tracking and trapping them. Not that she ever ate any of them however, they were just a sport for her to capture and get rid of. She became sort of menace otherwise, too, snooping around more curious than ever – simple locks couldn't hold her from finding about some (for her exciting) secret. Stray dogs left her alone ever since Rysk webbed one of them and gave it a “shaving” with a little acidic cantrip.
Cat burglar redefined... During a nightly prowl Rysk came upon a nice smelling shop, which was by then closed however. Following the scent she climbed up a little tree aside the shop, leaping indoors from an open window at upstairs. She didn't hear anything alarming nor smell any guard dogs – those things were pesky.
She padded softly across the floor of something what seemed like a bedroom, and by sound the master of the house was sound asleep. The heavy door of the room took a while to open, but finally she got it pawed enough to let her pass. The coast was clear, so to say, and she padded down a corridor and then stairs, coming to the side of shop itself.
Meats, milk and cream, aside various bakery – now, that was a treasure! Problem with milk though was that the containers were rather tightly shut, even humans had at times problems opening them. For a while she tried a bit of this and that, frustration growing steadily... But then she noticed a bit of light rope, or what they called it – thing to wrap packages with. A little bit of tinkering and she got a knot around handle of one of the (for her) massive canisters. She hopped down and pushed couple stool ladders aside the canister, fetching then a broom, setting it lay atop the stools... and then grabbed the robe in her teeth and pulled with all her strength and weight. And a moment later the metal lid of the canister rose loose, surprisingly fast, too, and was sent clattering on the floor with awful racket.
The noise woke up the shop's owner, and any louder would've woken the neighbors too. Rysk leaped onto a stool, lapping a few sips of the milk, leaping into hide just before the man rushed into the shop, shouting something about “thieves”. Cattily snickering Rysk watched the huffing and puffing man who now stood there dumbfounded, staring the open milk canister.
- “What the heck?”, he boggled, a glance telling him with ease that there was no one else than him in the shop.
Â… the man close the canister, checking then the locks and windows. Meanwhile Rysk nabbed couple sausages and padded upstairs, leaving the route she had initially arrived.
