This is pretty close to what Kwirrrf looks like, in case you’re wondering.
Except, of course, he’d never wear a collar.
“…but it’s expecting us right now,” Sandy said.
“Right,” Clay and Eileen said together. The three took dinner to the cat’s tent.
In the tent, four of the graduate students sat on the floor rubbing their jaws. The fifth, a skinny young man with a shockingly large and bushy beard, held his shaggy facial hair out of the way with one hand while he carefully licked down the length of Kwirrrf’s tail, which rested on the tabletop to allow proper licking leverage. The bearded man’s tongue was streaked with gray down the middle.
“Tank guud,” he slurred as he straightened up, clay-coated tongue still protruding from his mouth.
“Leave me, whatever your name is,” the cat said to the bearded student.
“Dick,” he said, a little more clearly as his tongue regained moisture.
The cat’s eyes flashed green and the student screamed. While it hadn’t harmed Sandy and Clay aside from causing pain, this time the cat’s glare withered flesh. In moments, all that remained of the student was a small mound of ashes.
“That was his name,” Eileen said quietly. “Dick is short for Richard.”
“I’m not convinced that was the sense he used that word in,” Kwirrrf said, pretending that he hadn’t misunderstood…