Now that his fix for coffee had been quenched, that branch needed to be taken care of. And he figured he’d best do it now, or the second volume of<i>Anno Dracula </i>would capture and hold his attention. Not that vampires wielded any power over him, even fictional ones, but anyway. A well-written yarn, on the other hand, and all bets were off. Since he lived in an apartment, gardening tools weren’t exactly at his immediate disposal.<br/><br/>Seeing as how the branch wasn’t that thick, Anton ascertained that his best bet was to somehow saw it off. Since he had no real saw to speak of, he thought of his Tamiya hobby saw to trim the offending branch. He hardly used the tool, as it was mostly for aftermarket resin items. Most of his collected hobby kits were of plastic. The occasional resin parts, on the other hand, managed to sneak in every now and then, hence his possession of the hobby saw. When he was done with the branch, he would sharpen it, just in case.<br/><br/>As he lifted the window to its fullest opening, Licorice sauntered over, eager to investigate what was going on. Inspecting the branch, Anton figured a cut of about eight inches would cease its pitter-patter against the glass. About halfway through the job, Licorice had hopped up onto the bench. Just . . . about . . . there! Done. A scampering sound was heard, and as he glanced next to him for his pet, she was no longer there.<br/><br/>Severed branch in hand, he looked back at the tree. To his horror, there she sat, on a nearby, thicker branch, staring at him. Her expression was one of mischief, as if she was daring him, “Come get me.” Anton dropped the branch on the bench, and spoke to her softly, “Lics, c’mon back inside. Here’s a nice landing spot for you.” The cat, as cats are wont to do, had other ideas. She looked around her, then her gaze shifted upward. Bingo! Destination sorted.<br/><br/>The species was known to be excellent climbers, and Licorice was no different. Descending a tree was another matter entirely, though that would not be an issue for her today. She scuttled up the tree to a broad branch above. By now, a panicked Anton was holding her bag of kitty treats. Leaning out the window, he shook the bag, while saying, “Treats, Lics! Come get some treats. It’s salmon, one of your favorites.”<br/><br/>Whether she wasn’t in the mood for her beloved treats or she had just decided to be a petulant brat, she ignored her owner and crept along the branch. Nearing its end, Licorice vaulted toward the building and disappeared from sight.<br/><br/>“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Anton exclaimed to no one in particular. “Shit, Lics, I’m gonna strangle you when I get my hands on you.” Well, if he lived in unit 508, his feline fugitive was now in unit 608. That’s good math, genius, he thought. He considered closing the window, but decided against it, in case she somehow made her way back down.<br/><br/>Keys in his pocket, he headed up the stairs. Soon after, he found himself staring at the numbers 6-0-8 screwed into the door. Although he knew who lived here, he didn’t know her personally, or whether she lived alone or not. Anton knocked on the door. No answer. Twenty seconds later, he knocked again. Still no answer. Muttering under his breath about some kinda ancient Aztec curse on Lics, he made himself comfortable on the carpeted floor near the woman’s door, just not too near. The waiting had commenced.