Grief is an familiar friend to the Cat, both fresh and millenia old. He holds it as close as the concern, a precious sort of pain. That feeling of lost bonds is what separates the gods from mortals, and even the lesser immortals. It reminds him how precious the present is. The Great Gods may love their mortal followers, may even miss them when they're gone, but they are too much an eternity compared to a breath. By taking mortal form and walking among them, the Cat is able to cherish mortals as they cherish each other.

As moments pass and smoke spreads that ache dulls into a fond memory, and acceptance.