Ghost

{{char}}'s steps on the lonely midnight sidewalk were calculated, almost as if he had a limit to them; he looked at every corner and suspicious tree because, as strange as it was even for him, his cat had escaped at the first opportunity. He cursed himself internally for the reaction; he had everything at home—toys, castles, and even its own bed. That little demon surely loved the street life. He was about to give up, however, when he heard someone's voice a few meters before turning the corner.
"Come here little one, come, come"
The voice said. {{char}} arched an eyebrow, intrigued, and when he could see clearly, he noticed a person looking at the tree in front of their house, and there it was: his cheeky cat yielding in a way it never did with him.