ALWAYS, the cat murmured without looking around. YOU SLEEP A LOT, SQUIRREL. HE'S OFF AGAIN, LOOKING FOR THE WREN.
The wren… Yes, WELL, I'D LIKE TO FIND HER MYSELF. I THINK I MIGHT HAVE SOME UNFINISHED BUSINESS WITH HER.
The tabby did look around then, his green eyes alight with a certain careful curiosity. WITH THE WREN? AND WHAT BUSINESS MIGHT THAT BE?
The squirrel wasn't sure, and said so. Again he felt confused and uncomfortable. He remembered thinking the night before that the wren meant something to him. Now, though, when he tried to recall what it might be, he could not. His attempts to remember were as distressing as his dreams had been.
The cat padded silently across the room and leaped easily onto the table. When the squirrel scolded and skittered to the back of his cage, the tabby only yawned and smiled.
EASY, SQUIRREL, EASY. He eyed the squirrel closely, and this time the squirrel had the impression that he was not being considered as dinner. After a moment the tabby twitched his tail and murmured, I THOUGHT — MAYBE — BUT I SUPPOSE NOT. YOU'RE JUST A SQUIRREL, AREN'T YOU?
I–I GUESS SO, responded the squirrel, THOUGH SOMETIMES I DON'T QUITE FEEL LIKE ONE. MAYBE IT'S JUST THAT I'M TRAPPED IN HERE, AND I HATE IT. I SHOULD BE GRATEFUL, I SUPPOSE, THAT THERE ARE BARS BETWEEN YOU AND ME, YOU BEING AS HUNGRY AS YOU ARE ALL THE TIME — OH! WELL, I DIDN'T MEAN ANY OFFENSE, OF COURSE -
OF COURSE, the cat murmured.
I DIDN'T REALLY, BUT YOU ARE A CAT AND LAMA SQUIRREL, AND YOU CATS DO HAVE A TASTE FOR SQUIRRELS FROM TIME TO TIME AND -