Trahearne isn't quite on time, but when he does arrive he's carrying a small cloth pouch with him, with an adolescent batcat on his shoulder. At around six months old now, his batcat is all black and on the fluffy side, wide golden eyes taking in the sight of the Fool as her tail sways behind her.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Duibhe needed her breakfast after I came home from work." Her only reply to her name is a flick of her ear, too occupied by her new surroundings to be bothered. "Have you been well? I heard that the cafe took its fair share of damage from the storm."