The woman's suggestions fell on deaf ears. Alvin was staring at the lake, choppy and restless in the windy gloom. He felt the same inside his chest, the unsettling feeling sitting there, leaving him unable to breathe. He could see the whole thing play out again, even the grey of the clouds was similar; he was sure lightning would strike at any moment. Dumbfounded, he stumbled back a few paces, bumping into the woman as she tried to coerce the cat from its hiding spot.

Time caught up with him again and he had to visibly shake his head to clear the images. This was exactly why he didn't come here. Sunny days, gloomy days, it all could turn at the drop of a hat and everything was over. As soon as they got the kitten out of the bush he was going to have to bolt straight home and sort his head out all over again.

"I'm sorry," he managed, still looking a little bit like a deer in the wandlight. He bent down, peering beneath the bush to see if he could reach the tiny cretin. All of this for ungrateful little feline. Hadn't it known it was already in good(ish) hands? Why jump and make a break for it? Honestly. "Pst pst pst," he made the noise he remembered Sloane doing when Cat was a kitten. Tentatively he reached out his hand, only for a whip of tiny kitten claws to rake over his good hand. Alvin hissed out an oath under his breath. "This is ridiculous." He mumbled, looking at the woman helplessly.