"Nice to meet you, Stella, and thanks again," he said as she ventured into her apartment and he headed for the stairwell.<br/><br/>Approaching his apartment, Anton was somewhat surprised to see his door slightly ajar. Coulda sworn I closed that all the way, he thought. Shouldering the door open, he did a quick scan of his surroundings, and then he saw him. It was, after all, hard to not notice a cat capable of eclipsing the sun. He smiled at Stella's apt description of her Tesla. Soon after their entrance, the Maine Coon lifted his head from the cushioned bench, looking their way. Anton noticed the nearby bag of salmon treats, which from here, appeared to be empty. He also noticed how Licorice struggled in his arms for her release. Seeing her tussle in the human's arms, Tesla rose, as if to honorably defend her virtue. Or whatever.<br/><br/>Before freeing Licorice, Anton made damn sure that accursed window was closed. Mission accomplished, and he finally placed his squirming roomie on the carpet. The two cats took to each other like peanut butter and jelly. As far as this analogy went, Tesla was obviously the peanut butter, as it was a rather dense condiment. Licorice, on the other hand, was pure jelly. Sweet. Sweet. And yeah, sweet. The pair circled each other, sniffing here and sniffing there. Anton rolled his eyes at what he knew was bound to happen: the butt sniff.<br/><br/>Allowing them ample time for introductions, he then scooped up Tesla in his arms, and said, "Someone is looking for you, my friend. And trust me, she will be happy upon your return." Tesla's purring seemed to match his size. Put another way, it was fucking loud! But that was good. Heading for the door, Licorice was right there, matching kitty step for human step. "You, my dear, are staying right here," he said to her, as his right leg guided her away from the door. "And you, my massive friend, are going home," he said to the Maine Coon.<br/><br/>Front door firmly closed, Anton moved toward the oft-used, recently anyway, stairwell. Ascending the stairs, he fondly took note of how Tesla was already sound asleep in his arms. Once again facing the numbers 6-0-8, he knocked, more than happy to address the favor of Tesla's return.