Work Text:
James sat at his table in his kitchen, not really noticing anything around him. It was the first full day for him to be alone. He had come downstairs, wondering where the little scoundrel was, then remembered. He wasn't running around the house, ready to pounce on him when he passed by going to the kitchen to get his morning food ready. No, he wasn't there to sit on his lap and let him rub his fur then be nipped or scratched at when he had enough. He was nearby, in a box, under a stone, in the back yard.