“Come, Mephistopheles, we must prepare for the plague ship,” the dark one said.
“What’s the hurry? Time enough, they’re not going anywhere,” replied the cat.
“Why must you always argue with me. Do I not care for you? Give you the best fish and catnip?” Grimm said.
“What is your point?” asked the feline.
“You would think that after saving you from that sinking ship, you would be more grateful,” said the figure.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate all you do. It’s in my nature to be a cat,” Mephistopheles answered.
The two stood in silence, watching the approaching vessel. “Tell you what, help me corral the dying into the ferryman’s boat, and I’ll get you a rat for dinner,” Grimm said.
“Freshly killed? I don’t want any week-old trash like last time,” replied the cat.
“It will still be kicking,” offered Grimm.
“Deal,” said Mephistopheles, then proceeded to climb on the reaper’s shoulder.
“I do love a good plague ship harvest. Reminds me of the good old days during the black death. Bodies everywhere,” said Grimm with a wry smile.
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