Bahorel looks vaguely disgusted. "On a table?"
"I'm sure these tables have seen worse," he says after a slight pause.
"That's not the point," he argues. "Animals don't belong on tables." He grew up in the country; can you tell?
"Tell them that," he says. He figures if Courfeyrac or Combeferre argues, Bahorel could always take them. "There's no animals on this table, if you'd like to sit."
This earns him a grin. "Merci," he says as he sits down.
"Of course." A small, fleeting smile in reply. "How are you?"
Bahorel is still staring at the offending kitten. "Can't complain. And you?"
"I'm well enough. Is..." He follows Bahorel's gaze. "...are you frightened of cats?"
He turns to look at Feuilly, looking half amused, half offended. "I grew up on a farm, Feuilly."
"Oh, right, of course," he says, glancing a bit embarrassedly at his hands. "Why the fascination, then?"
"Cats belong in stables, not in cafes," he shrugs.
"Maybe he plans to leave it, to catch mice," he suggests.
Bahorel snorts. "From the looks of it, he's more likely to let it sleep in his bed than leaving it here."
Feuilly raises an eyebrow. "Yes, well. Perhaps he's a rat problem at home." His tone suggests his high doubt of that.
Bahorel can't help but laugh at this.
"You can't ever tell what the fancies of these students are," he says, knowing (and hoping) Bahorel will take no offense.
"Well, maybe Matthieu wouldn't mind, but can you honsetly see Enjolras sharing a flat with rodents?" he asks, still laughing.
This idea earns a smile. "Certainly not. He'd lecture them."
"Then again, wouldn't he do the same to a cat?"
"Cats are smarter than rats, though." He pauses. "Do you think a cat would listen?"
Another grin. "Cats are smart enough to never listen to anyone."
"Oh, but of course," he says. "That would explain why one can never teach a cat to do anything."
"Indeed," he nods. "Terribly intelligent animals."
"Or are they just very stubborn?"
"Equally possible," he admits. "Either way, they don't belong on tables."