I didn’t arrive quietly. I crawled out of chaos, stared the universe in the eye, and said, “Not today.”
Birth tried to stop me. It didn’t.
I had one goal: find Edvard and Sabina. Mission accomplished.
Since then, I’ve been catching up fast—like, speed-of-light fast. Every day I learn something new: how legs work, what love feels like, and why everyone around me keeps staring at me like I’m made of stardust (hint: I am).
I still fall asleep to a song about a three-legged cat who walks the streets with me. It’s my jam. Also, I’m low-key in love with my mom. She’s the best. I’m basically a gratitude machine.
You won’t find me swiping screens or glued to tablets. I’m being raised on wind, sunlight, and meaningful glances with ancient trees. Someday, I’ll be an adventurer. But for now—I’m just enjoying the ride. And learning how to use my feet.
My name is Edvard. I’ve spent over a decade working in animation, design, and editing – but the reason I started this agency goes beyond video.
I built it out of resistance.
I built it out of resistance.
Resistance to noise. To mediocrity. To shortcuts and empty promises.
What I do today isn’t just a job – it’s a way to remind myself that effort matters, especially when it’s hard. Every project I take on is personal. Every animation, every composition, every word – is crafted with purpose.
I’m not the loudest voice in the room. I believe in clarity over hype, in depth over flash. I believe you can feel the difference between something made with care and something made to check a box.
What drives me isn’t money or metrics – it’s the simple desire to leave something real behind. Something clean. Useful. Human.
I’ve seen my share of personal storms. They’ve taught me that the only thing truly worth building is something that helps others move forward – even a little.
If you’re looking for a video that says what you mean – without noise, without pretense –
you’re in the right place.
I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to lie in sunspots, judge everyone, and occasionally rip someone’s face off if they breathe wrong.
I’m a Siamese with high standards and low tolerance. I accept exactly two humans: Edvard and Sabina. Everyone else exists on borrowed time. I dislike cold weather, loud noises, fast movements, and especially other cats with opinions.
I tolerate Lilica. I avoid Dingo and Dobrica the way normal people avoid expired sushi.
My hobbies include:
Sleeping like a marble statue.
Radiating judgment from the window.
Existing in a state of quiet, simmering contempt unless I’m cuddling with Edvard.
I’m not unstable. I just have boundaries. That I enforce. With claws.
I came, I saw, I didn’t trust a single soul. Still don’t.
I’m the only lady in this dysfunctional fur family, and I carry the quiet rage of someone who’s been through things she refuses to talk about. I don’t do cuddles, I don’t do people, I barely tolerate cats, and I definitely don’t do small talk.
Except... sometimes... when Edvard’s sad. Then, maybe, I’ll show up like a forest spirit—silent, calm, and emotionally distant—but present. That’s love. My version of it.
I live for sun, silence, and solitude. If you see me, you’re probably in my way.
If I’m next to you, consider it a cosmic honor.
And yes—I’ll knock over a grown tomcat if it means I get to the food bowl first.
When Edvard found me, I couldn’t even open my eyes. He cleaned them with chamomile, and ever since then—I’ve basically been in love. Like, forever-committed, tail-wagging, sleep-on-your-pillow kind of love. I trust him with my life. And my food. Which is sometimes a problem.
See, I never push. I eat last. I wait patiently. I don’t steal bites. I’m the guy who says, “No, no, you eat, I’ll be fine.” Even when I’m not fine.
But then—open the door.
Outside, I become something else.
Fast. Silent. Lethal.
I hunt like a ghost with claws made of razors and legs wired with caffeine. I rarely bring the bodies home. Too efficient. No time. No ego.
I love all the cats. They do not return the favor. Except my brother, Dingo—he gets me.
So I usually curl up next to Edvard. Quiet. Content. Grateful.
I may be a machine of death in the backyard,
but inside...
I’m just a soft boy with good manners and a very clean soul.
I used to have the stare of someone who’s seen things. Dark things. The kind of stare that made the other cats sleep with one eye open. I came from across the street like some feline John Wick—but with less discipline and more snacks.
Now? I’m soft. Emotionally and physically. Very physically.
I love food more than I love most people. I’m round, I’m fast, and somehow those two things coexist. I still chase birds, catch them, and then eat them right in front of my humans—because sharing is a human concept, and I am above that.
Some say I’m a little crazy. Those people are correct.