It is a rare thing to be a familiar. As a mother of five kittens, and as a familiar, it is strange to see them be so… cat-like. I am a cat, of course, but my kittens are not like me, their early days not at all as I remember my own. They play and learn and grow, as they should, but show no real interest towards the greater world.

Familiars know they are something different, and I remember my younger days as lonely and frustrated. I wanted to find my mage, I wanted to be free of my basket. Something pulled me away, and there was no-one to give me advice or clues – not until I found my mage, that is, a young boy from the other side of town. But that was a long way for kitten legs.

My kittens, sweet and perfect as they are, have no such pulls or ambitions and are quite content to cause as much havoc as is possible, as kittens should. Our house is large and we’ve room for them all, so my paws will be full of their mischief for as long as they choose to stay.