It walked to and fro. This was usually an indication that it wanted something, and so too it was on this early morn. Above and beyond the to and fro, it had escalated into rubbing against legs to get the point across. There even was a rare headbuff, signaling that this time the need was dire indeed.

And then it came. The honk.

In truth, it was a very short meow, as if someone had recorded a longform meow and now only partially replayed it. The result being a very honk-like sound, dubbed “the nom honk” by tired minds of earlier morns.

Truly, a hungrier cat never did honk.