Notes: As you eagle-eyed gamers must have noticed, there is a gray tabby cat following Geralt around in the Witcher 3-game. It's everywhere. In strange places too. CD Project Red have recently said that there's nothing special about the cat, dismissing all theories surrounding it. Nibbles the cat is just a cat. Bummer.

This is my take on what our mysterious feline friend actually is.

Geralt felt content. A very unfamiliar feeling, if you don't consider the aftermaths of lovemaking. Now, nothing of the sort had taken place, which made the whole situation even more unusual.

Still, why shouldn't he feel content? Ciri was safe. He'd brought order to Toussaint, had been given a charming property, reunited with old friends. And also, had his love close against his chest with the intension of staying.

Geralt embraced Yennefer from beind as they sat underneath the stars on the chaise longue, her back against him and between his legs. The sorceress sighed. Geralt could tell that she was happy too. He reached for her face and tipped her chin backwards, planted a little kiss when he could reach her lips.

"Geralt," the sorceress said, "you seem... relaxed. I bet you can get used to living the life of a vintner not before long."

"Hmm," Geralt responded, smelling her hair. "Maybe. Nothing wrong spending the nights like this. Not sure I have the patience for the other tasks that comes with it."

Yennefer chuckled.

"Yen," Geralt asked her after a moment of silence.

"Yes, my love?"

"I can't seem to get something out of my mind. It might be nothing, but I find it strange."

"Oh? Do tell. After you give me my glass of wine over there." She flicked her wrist, pointing towards the bottle and glasses standing on the side of the chaise longue. Geralt stretched to his right, obliging Yennefer's request.

She took a sip, humming appreciatively. "It's really good, this. Good job, Witcher. Toussaint will most definitely make a vintner out of you. Back to you, what's strange?"

"Well," Geralt started. "You know how cats react when I'm around?"

"Most definitely. Cats and people, I'd say."

Geralt pretended he didn't hear her last sentence and continued. " Anyway, I've actually met a one that wasn't like all the other I've come across. It was friendly."

"Geralt, that's a little unusual at best. I wouldn't call it strange."

"Let me continue..."

~ City of Oxenfurt ~

Geralt had finally tracked down Tamara, daughter of the infamous Bloody Baron. Trying to remember what Voytek said about the location of his brother's residence, he guided Roach up and down the many cobblestone streets of the city, most known for its University.

Geralt had visited Oxenfurt many times before, the last time when Ciri was young and needed to be hidden from the royal schemes that followed Cintra's demise. That was quite some time ago.

Down by the harbor, just around the corner as he came from a transversing street, stood a house that fit the description. He entered, and was met by a man that indeed was Voytek's brother. He promised to fetch Tamara, and left.

On the table that stood in the middle of the room sat a gray tabby cat. Geralt got really curious, since the cat acted as he was just an ordinary visitor and not a witcher. Usually, cats that encountered him arched their backs, hissed and ran up trees. This one, was quite the opposite.

Geralt crouched down to get a better look. Usually, cats reacted to him once they locked eyes. It was something with those eyes of his, bearing the resemblance of a cat or a viper, that the felines seemed to hate.

Cats are known to sense the magical sources in the world and it is said that they even can absorb the power, making them special in many ways. However, Geralt found it strange that cats hated him and not, say, Yennefer or Triss. The sorceresses drew directly from magical sources and made them teem with magical energy, he did not. He concluded that he didn't like cats, and watched as the tabby purred and started to groom itself.

Just a moment after, Tamara Strenger came down the stairs.

"Again, Geralt," Yennefer said, "there's always an exception to the rule. I wouldn't call it strange. So, one cat in Oxenfurt was friendly? Don't read much into it."

Geralt stroked her hair, the abundance of black locks cascading down her shoulders. He let out a little sigh. She's always so quick to dismiss things that doesn't pique her interest.

"Yen, I'm not done. There's more to this story."

"That will have to wait. Let's go inside, I'm getting cold. I'm not dismissing you," she added with a slight sharpness in her voice.

"Yen, I really hate when you do that." Geralt found her mind reading somewhat intrusive. He thought that they'd agreed that she would not poke around in his mind. Bad habits are hard to break. He was a bit disappointed when Yennefer showed no reaction to his thoughts this time.

"You have to learn how to speak up." Yennefer stirred and left Geralt's embrace. She stood up and turned around. "Come. I'll make it worth your while." A smile played on her lips. Definitely her way of telling him that she was sorry.

Geralt was quick to get on his feet.

They had brusquely told Barnabas-Basil that he should leave the main house for a while as they stumbled in through the door.

"Honestly," Yennefer panted, "is that man always awake? He's bloody everywhere!"

Geralt could tell that she was hungry for them to be alone, she couldn't keep her hands off him and was the first to go through the doorway to his room.

"For being the Master's bedroom," she whispered as she took his shirt off, "it's awfully small."

"It's the only bedroom with a door," he mumbled whilst kissing the nape of her neck. That scent of hers made him crazy. Almost like he was conditioned to react to it.

They came together in a feverish way, devouring each other with a lust hailing from being apart. Now, they could finally be together without anything disturbing them. Finally being at peace. A definite first.

As they remained entwined, Yennefer with her head against Geralt's chest and Geralt protectively having his arms around her, Geralt couldn't get rid of his thoughts about the cat. The cat that was probably nothing.

"Yen," he whispered, "about that cat..."

"I'm listening, Geralt. Go on."

~ The free city of Novigrad ~

Geralt had tried hard to learn about the whereabouts of Dandilion. Working together with Priscilla and Triss, he'd found out that the bard was located in Oxenfurt. Things had gone utterly wrong for the bard who, in order to help Ciri, ended up being incarcerated.

A plan had started to form, culminating in Geralt being cast as an actor in order for Priscilla to get in contact with a patron of the arts, who just happened to be a doppler. Ah, what endeavours the witcher went through in order to save his lute-strumming friend. It's all for Ciri, he reminded himself.

As Geralt entered the stage, horribly annoyed over the whole situation, he managed to peer out over the audience. To think that he'd end up being cast in a play where he portrayed himself, no less. The audience looked agog, eager for the play to let them be somewhere else for just a little while.

As Geralt let his gaze trail higher, he saw it. It was dark, true, but high up, almost as high as the rooftops, he saw the gray tabby once more.

"So, just to make sure that I've understood this correctly, you saw a cat on the roof?"

"It was the same cat, Yen."

She laughed, a kind of laugh that came from the heart. Sounding like bells.

"A cat from Oxenfurt went all the way to Novigrad to see you in a play? Geralt, honestly!" She covered her mouth with her hand, shaking with laughter. "I'm sorry, Geralt, but you must admit that it all sounds very... silly? Not to mention far-fetched?"

The witcher caressed her shoulder and kissed her hair, feeling a bit slain by her remark. "Let's sleep, Yen."

As he listened to her breathing go heavy, a sign that she had fallen asleep, he still couldn't shake the feeling. That there was something more to the mysterious cat. He definitely had more stories to share with Yennefer. He decided that they would have to wait until the following day.