Hand to the Flame ((31-34))

[victoriousscarf]

Sighing, Mistoffelees tugged the blue tie down as he came around the corner of Fourth Street. He'd been wearing the tie the last two days, though had seen no sign of Coricopat and was just starting to tell himself not to worry, since he had gone longer than this without seeing the other cat.

Approaching the house he stalled slightly, frowning at the lights. He was sure he'd turned them all off on his way to work... except the porch light, that he generally left on since he came home in the dark but the hall light?

He blinked at that, approaching the door again, glancing down and noticing what he thought might be brown spots of some kind, but he could barely see them in the light. He stalled again when the realized the door was unlocked. Yes, he hadn't been really paying attention when he left earlier that afternoon but surely... He pushed the door open anyway, peeking inside.

[Meadowlark]

"Anubis' fangs!" Cori snarled, his leg jerking back away from the doctor's paws.

"Language. If you'd permit more than topical anesthesia this would be simpler." Doc remarked to the cat he'd found in a backalley on his way home from the hospital. He turned away from his patient at the sound of the front door opening. "I'll be back, don't go anywhere."

"Yes, because I'm so mobile at the moment." Coricopat managed to snap in response, though his voice wasn't as strong as usual. He grimaced as he stretched his left leg out again--the freshly-bandaged bullet wound protesting the movement.

[victoriousscarf]

Misto froze at the sounds of people yelling. He glanced back toward the street, wondering if he should make a break for it.

On the one paw, if the owner of the house was back, he was bound to see Misto's stuff, so he might as well grab that before leaving. Though, on the other paw, if it was thieves, he wondered what they thought was worthwhile in such an empty house. He had no valuables and the owner hasn't left any behind. He hesitated a further moment, still standing in about the doorway.

[Meadowlark]

Doc Cohen stepped out of the master bedroom, wiping his paws clean on a towel. He blinked at the sight of Mistoffelees, trying to recall if he'd seen the other cat before. "Oh. What are you doing here?"

[victoriousscarf]

"I'm sorry!" Misto blurted on the appearance of the Russian Blue. Wait, was that... blood on his paws? He could feel his fur stand on end and his tail poof out. "I...I..." He rocked for a moment, almost just fleeing but the other hadn't made a move toward him yet...

[Meadowlark]

The doctor arched an eyebrow. "Don’t apologize, but if you're coming in do lock the front door please. The fewer cats in and out at the moment the better."

[victoriousscarf]

Misto blinked at him, his fur still on end. He rocked on his heels again, and finally stepped forward, closed the door and locked it, wondering if he was locking himself in with a mad man. He was too nervous to do anything else though. "Uh, um, are you--do you--is this your house?"

[Meadowlark]

"What? Oh, goodness no. My patient owns this house. Which reminds me I need to go finish stitching up those wounds. Just wanted to be sure that it wasn't anyone who might cause trouble coming in." He turned, heading back toward the bedroom.

[victoriousscarf]

Misto's ear flickered, and he took a hesitant step forward, not entirely sure he wanted to be confronted with the owner of the house he had invaded... on invitation sure, but not on the owners invitation as far as he knew. Not to mention he was really unsure of what to make of the Russian Blue or the fact that apparently somecat was injured.

He lingered a moment longer in the foyer, finally deciding he'd have to walk by the main bedroom to get his stuff and sneak out the back anyway, so he might as well see who owned the house. He followed the other cat down the hall, stopping in the door and freezing there.

[Meadowlark]

Corciopat's grey eyes narrowed as Doc came back into the room. "You are the most insufferable horse doctor that ever lived."

"I ought to have left you to bleed out if this is the thanks I get." Came the sharp response. "Can you turn over on your own or do you need a paw?"

"I'm fine." He made no move to turn over, his expression challenging the doctor.

"Of course you are. If I have to put you under I will. Now turn over."

There was a brief flicker of…apprehension? …in Coricopat's eyes, but he growled as he complied, carefully turning onto his stomach to allow Doc access to the deep claw marks on his back. "You know my rules. Topical anesthesia but nothing that blacks me out."

[victoriousscarf]

He had frozen so completely with shock he forgot to breath for a moment. "C-oricopat?" he managed to get out in a high pitched rush, managing then to notice all the blood on the other cat and holy hell what had happened? A small part of his brain informed him that that had probably been what the brown stains on the door step were, and then informed him he really shouldn't have been surprised at this.

[Meadowlark]

The lawyer's gaze darted to the doorway, his focus was iffy at best, but he was still conscious which was enough for him to define himself as "fine." He paled a bit more at the sight of the black cat. Damn it, he should have insisted on the Demoniaque for treatment--there was no reason for the other cat to see him like this. "Mistoffelees." He snarled, flinching away as Doc started to clean the wounds on his back.

"Hold still, this is going to sting." The Russian Blue remarked, after the fact.

[victoriousscarf]

"Yo--ah--" he took a breath and figured any questions he had regarding Coricopat--this was his house, where did he get those wounds, and oh god what happened?--could wait until the wasn't bleeding. "Is... is there anything you need?" he asked the Russian Blue after a moment.

[Meadowlark]

The doctor nodded toward his bag. "I need a needle and thread out of there, along with another roll of bandages."

[victoriousscarf]

Misto swallowed and nodded, moving over a bit mechanically to the bag, rummaging around and producing the items asked for, manging to hand them over without his paws trembling.