How could she smell of angry? What did angry even smell like? Cafas shook hi head and continued washing the protesting kitten, despite the several needle sharp claws and teeth that kept sinking into his hand. The sink water turned an absolutely filthy colour as fur started to show though.

"People are going to ask you for a name whenever they meet her. Anyway, it helps to have some name to refer to people as, and it's more personal than just saying my cat." Plus it was totally just the done thing. People named stuff of importance. Things without names tended to be food or otherwise insignificant on a personal level.

>>"I don't think she does not-angry."

Another thin scratch on Cafas' hand bore testament to the truth in that. "I suspect you're right. In Australia they'd probably call her Cuddles for the irony. Or Agro, if they were being literal with it." Red dogs got called Blue, fat guys were called Slim, it was a weird country like that.

It is a silly place, let's not go there.

He raised the kitten back out of the water, substantially cleaner. "Here, wrap her in the towel. Cat's aren't really meant to be wet, she'll get cold if she doesn't get dry soon." Pure speculation based on what his mother had told him as a child. Perhaps she'd just been trying to stop him splashing water onto the cats? He'd taken it as fact though. If it had been a lie, it had worked.

As Cafas cleaned, the kitten gradually turned from a mildly disturbing shade of brown to mostly white, if still rather stained, with splotches of orange on her face and hips. And front toes, as if someone wanted to hide the bloodstains of her slain enemies.

"Why should I have to tell them anything? People already talk to me more if I give them my name. Giving her one so I can give it to people is just going to make it worse." Adder edged in a little bit closer to peer at the kitten's lack of tail. Well, apparently not quite a lack; there was a little smushed-up bit. He was on the edge of asking Cafas if she'd be able to balance, but then went to the edge of smacking himself in the face instead. He could balance just fine on two legs, and she had four. Well, he could usually balance on two. There were times when he would be wolf but for headache-y noise and too much everything and then he kept trying to step onto a foreleg but it was a hand and it just didn't work.

That was old, though. That hadn't happened at all recently. It was old enough to at least be partially Before.

But whatever. Cafas was rambling and it didn't all make sense. Adder might not have been able to actually explain irony if put on the spot (not that he'd willingly explain anything if put on the spot) but Cafas had only seen kitten being angry and bitey, so clearly he meant Cuddles to be a Very Much Not Accurate label. Which was stupid. Why call something it wasn't? Except Adder had actually been around for when kitten was tucked into the back of his neck, and since she couldn't really get through his ruff it could almost be cuddly.

But Cuddles was also a stupid name all on its own. Agro he didn't quite get either, but that was more because it didn't sound like a word.

His name was very inaccurate. An adder was apparently a kind of snake, but the only thing he had to do with snakes was that he'd eaten a few over the years. There weren't a ton of snakes around the city. Mostly pigeons and crows. Cats ad rats. Whatever. It had something to do with his Before name, and it wasn't as if he was going to go and change it now. It wasn't as if it'd stop people from trying to talk to him.

He held the towel out for kitten, hesitated long enough to make sure it was covering his already scratched arms as much as possible, and prepared to take back the even tinier ball of rage. "Soaked fur is cold," he said absently. Cafas didn't have fur so he probably wouldn't really know. "It's warm only until the water gets to your skin. Then it takes forever to dry."

Tiny tiny kitten enveloped in giant poofy towel. So much more towel than kitten.