Ibn Arabi was exhausted, & Cold. Very, Very Cold. he had asked Bird in human form to make him handsome, and he ended up looking like a panther.
Which was handsome, but not particularly Persian nor suitable for winter climate as everyone else grew extra fluffy.
It was too cold for the library so he headed to the bed in the security office he visited rarely- usually when the security guard was having an unrelated nervous breakdown.
However, the bed was already filled with Mango, wearing his adorable little police hat, and covered with more of Ibn Arabi’s fur than Ibn Arabi presently possessed after his shaving.
Ibn Arabi felt replaced. Mango felt honored by the visit and tried to explain he was guarding the remains of old cat hair from pilgrim cats seeking relics.
Ibn Arabi did not even realize his claws were extended until they fully retracted. Mango was showing his toebeans AND his tummy- he clearly could not eviscerate this child. Even if Mango was bigger than Ibn Arabi ever was- and instead allowed himself a little pride.
He could have a worse legacy than Mango; like that yellow cat with the unfortunate habit of setting things on fire, now inexplicably teaching music, tradecraft, and introductory Tasawwuf.
We never had this problem with the calico, but then again, sometimes things need to be burnt to be better. Like marshmallows or trapped spies. Burnt Crispy. His tail still hurt from earlier, but he was promised the fur would indeed grow back thicker.
Later.
The Chronicals of Alaraf 