Daniel scowled at her until she got up to help, and then coming from a push-up position, he got to his feet. "I think there's some tuna in the cupboard. You try string." And off he went.
It took no less than an hour of coaxing, bribing, and luring to get the kitten out from under the sofa. She was getting a little bigger, and rather than a baseball she was now the size of a softball--not counting the puff of fur her eyes came out of. She didn't like being pushed into Daniel's oversize pocket, so he had to carry her and leave all his other things, which (as he told Rosalie) would probably be sent back anyway. Grumpy kitten and grumpy Daniel both got back into the car for the ride back to Bellum, in which both scowled out from the large coat and said very little.