A Real Expert
The wizard watched with interest as the black tomcat approached the table. The cat was an expert; there was no doubt about that. He melted into the shadows of benches and chairs, twined swiftly around legs and feet, his gaze unerringly on his aim: the bacon on the plate.
The wizard leaned back, his hat to tilting forward, assuming the posture of an old man dozing off after a filling meal.
The cat moved smoothly, every whisker, every feel-hair under control, only the slightly twitching tail a sign to betray his concentration.
How he made it onto the table, even the wizard did not see. But he caught the bacon in the last second before it fell prey to this hunter of the night.
Gandalf clapped his hands in applause. “Excellent, excellent, Master Cat! I may have a task that might interest you. A task that requires a real expert …â€