Growing older, many of its siblings left; but the strange thing had liked it, and fed it scraps of meat when it weaned, same as it did its mother. Sometimes it carried it around. Wanting more of the attention, food, and comfort, it took to following its strange thing around.

It had a mane like a horse, which it hid under not-fur; in the evening, when it took off its not-fur to sleep, it let its mane down, and it was long. It spoke to the little thing in a quiet, cautious voice, high-pitched and sweet, and the little thing felt compelled to meow back at it, hoping perhaps that this engagement would lead to more scraps, more petting. It quickly became more tame than its mother ever was.

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