He followed Charlie into the flat, looking around with interest. He shrugged his coat off and put it on the rack, but bulked at taking his shoes off. He was fairly certain that there was probably some sort of enchantment on him that would alert his mother and grandmother the moment he even thought about removing his shoes outside of his own home, and he didn't think that Charlie would appreciate being murdered by proxy.
Hyperion regarded the cat with interest. "Echo is it," he asked, reaching over to pet the animal. He'd always had a knack for animals, and after several moments of hesitation, the young cat seemed to accept him and jumped into his lap. "He has good taste, aye?"
"So," he said, looking up from the near ecstatic cat. "You mentioned some stories?"