Theme # 08: Potions


Crookshanks lifted his nose, and sniffed the air. It did not smell right, so he waited, paws at the ready -- but no threat of harm came and, at long last, the cat allowed himself to let his guard relax. Not let it down, of course - a wise cat was alert at the most peaceful of times.

The orange furball gave a little, unhappy wag of his tail, and forayed further into the depths of the potion-ingredients closet. There was a crash, as he stepped into something that stuck to his paws, and Crookshans jumped into the air.

Stupid closet.