“It’s a snow cat.” Dorothy leaned on the windowsill, looking placidly at her creation. “See, there’s her tail, and her ears.”
“She has a very short tail.” Adam was less impressed. Adam was less impressed by most things, though.
“It’s a Manx snow cat. They exist, you know.”
“You just couldn’t make a tail properly, could you?”
“I didn’t make it.” She didn’t even bother looking at him when she said it. “It just appeared.”
It took her brother a moment to decide to ignore that. “What’s it doing in the window, anyway? Aren’t snowmen -“
“It’s a snow cat.”
“-snow creatures supposed to be out in the yard where people can see them?” Adam got the smug look that he always did when he’d made a point.
“I suppose it wants to come in.” Dorothy breathed on the window and drew cat ears in the condensation.
“It doesn’t even look like a cat.” Adam shook his head. “And now you think it wants to come in?“
“Well, it’s rubbing against the window, look.” The snow-thing seemed closer, now, the snowy globe that served as a head pressed against the glass. “I’m going to let it in.”
Adam’s lip wobbled. “I’m telling mom!”
He fled before Dorothy got the latch on the window open.
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