It was past noon the next day before Trish mustered the energy to go downstairs and fetch some food for Ruiz and herself. Barely bothering to dress, she left the room in sweatpants and a baggy shirt. She was just pulling her hair back into a loose bun when she stopped in the middle of the foyer. Standing in the doorway, blocking the kitchen entrance, was none other than the home intruder herself.

Trish’s fur stood on end, and that horrible dooking sound that she couldn’t stand to make rose up in her throat. Clamping her jaw shut, her hands tightened into fists and she glowered at the woman before her.

Saoirse sauntered up to Trish, hips swaying as she showed off her bare midriff. Two fist-sized, purple and black marks dotted her bronze side. “You pack a mean punch, carpet shark.”

“And you overstepped,” Trish replied through gritted teeth, unwilling to let her jaw open even a fraction lest she begin shrieking in fury.

“I just wanted to scare him a little. Maybe see what it’s like to drink from someone cold-blooded.” Her lips parted, revealing a pair of hollow, needle-like fangs. The two white bones flipped backwards, disappearing into the roof of Saoirse’s mouth as she closed her lips.

Trish’s hair only bristled more, her tail a bottle brush compared to its usual smoothness. “Don’t bother him again.”

“Are you gonna teach me a lesson, little cat snake?”

“A boxing lesson. I was raised by professionals.” With that, she moved past Saoirse to the kitchen. As she passed the woman, she jabbed Saoirse in her bruised side. Saoirse gasped, stepping clumsily away from Trish’s bony knuckles. The ferret grinned to herself, then went to prepare a tray of brunch for herself and her roommate.