[USS Charon, Deck 7]
The golden-furred Caitian sauntered down the hallway, her tail swishing nervously behind her.
It wasn't that she didn't like seeing counselors, most of them were really nice and not easily intimidated by a large feline in any case. It was just that sometimes they would give her the same exasperated look her aunt used to when she had broken something (again) and in the end, well, …
She always tried so hard not to make any more messes or do something stupid but the harder she tried the more the universe seemed out to get another laugh.
And with a crew as diverse as Charon's it only meant more chances to step on someone's toes - or the equivalent of such.
M'Riarr reached the doors to the counselor's office and put on her most friendly smile. Then she thought better of it and reduced it to her second biggest smile, the one that didn't show too many fangs, before poking her head through the doors that had so nicely swished open upon her cautious approach.
"Uh, Mr Jennings? You there? It's M'Riarr, we had an appointment..?"
Looking up from his desktop monitor Paul offered a slight smile in return. He had, of course, been expecting M'Riarr to arrive anytime now, and had just finished wrapping up his notes on session that had ended about an hour previously.
"Please," he said as he indicated the chair across from him. "Come in and make yourself comfortable."
"Oh, surrrrre. Thank you." M'Riarr purred happily. The chairs were a little tiny but if there was one good thing about being a Caitian it was that you could practically make yourself comfortable anywhere you chose to.
Of course she almost succeeded in knocking the chair over before she could squeeze her large frame into it but the key word being 'almost', M'Riarr considered the enterprise a success.
That is, until she realized her tail was being squeezed into an uncomfortable position and her subsequent wiggling led to an odd popping noise.
"Oh I am sooo sorrrry, sir."
The tan-furred lioness sighed when the arm-part fell to the ground with a rather pathetic noise after having been neatly separated from the rest of the chair. At least now her tail had some room. And if she stemmed her paw against the desk just a little bit she wouldn't even topple over.
"I guess you know at least one of my prrrroblems…."
"Indeed," the counselor replied, successful in his attempts to hide his amusement. It would be quite unbecoming to laugh at such a situation given his position. "And don't worry; chairs are easily replicated." After quick moment of thought he added, "In fact, I believe the sofa may be a bit more comfortable for you, if you wish."
M'Riarr looked over her shoulder at the inviting sofa and then back at the counselor. On the one paw, she was stationery now and therefore less likely to wreak more havoc. On the other paw, the desk was starting to move ever so slightly, having to keep roughly 180 lbs of Caitian from falling over.
"Yesss I think that would be nice" she said finally and very carefully stood up.
One, two, watch out for the table, don't plop… phew.
Her green-gold eyes blinked up at the human with undisguised relief
"Easily replicated. That's nice of you to say, sir. But at the rrrate I'm going the ship will have all new furniture within a yearrrrr or so."
Moving to follow her, he took up position in the chair adjacent to the sofa. "Do you just find it difficult to maneuver in the tighter spaces of a starship? It's true that most vessels are designed uniformly, and sometimes not a lot of thought is given to species with different builds."
"I find it difficult to maneuver anywhere, counselorrr. Except when I fly, the bigger the ship the better. A million metrrric tons and I land on a beach towel if you like."
M'Riarr sighed heavily, then tried to stretch her legs and bumped her paw on the table.
"But it's not just that I'm clumsy. Always been, just ask my family."
She peeked up at the human with a friendly grin and then quickly put her paws in front of her furry snout.
"In the Academy and on the 'Minsk' people didn't seem to mind so much. Well, except when I knocked over the XO's birthday cake, but I made him a new one."
Realizing that she sounded a little muffled, M'Riarr lowered her paws again
"But either I'm morrrr clumsy on Charon or … well, I don't know. That's the prrroblem I suppose."
Paul leaned against the chair, doing his best to look relaxed as he nodded slowly. There could be a number of reasons her feeling increasingly clumsy, though there was only real method to discovery. And while his time as a counselor had indeed been short so far, the man had discovered from the beginning that it was a method people hated.
"So, can you think of anything that's different here on Charon than on the Minsk?" he asked.
"Mrow?" M'Riarr absentmindedly rubbed her ear a bit, wondering what the nice human was getting at.
"A lot of things, sirrr. I mean, the obvious difference is the Rrrromulans but… well you probably know Caitians think Vulcanoids are cute, period. And I've never had a prrroblem getting used to another species. Except maybe aquatics but they're nice, too, as long as I don't have to swim with them."
She tried another smile, this time without displaying too many fangs.
Commander Paul Jennings
USS Charon NCC-80111
USS Caron NCC-80111