What? Doesn't she understand, then? Because that's the only part that could be in question, here.

Yes, it's a wonder James isn't bruises all over from sharing a bed with him. Andrew summits the mound of fur that is Daine and settles himself as best he can just behind her shoulder blades, nestling down into her fur and grabbing handfuls of it. He looks a bit like a baby monkey clinging to its mother's back, actually, though the monkey would have an advantage over him in having opposable toes.

Riding a cat is more difficult than it looks, not that Andrew knows what it looks like. It's a relief whenever she stops and stands, giving him the chance to get re-balanced on her spine and adjust his grip, but every moment they stand still is also time for a curious human to spot the tiny person riding a stray animal. Andrew spits out hair and wipes his sweaty hands on his trousers, one at a time. "I'm alright," he assures her, though he's already uneasy at the thought of crossing traffic again...and again...and again.