Chosen-7

You ignore your mother's advice to get Zoe, and go right back to your bedroom. You see your 3-year-old cat, Breadsticks, sleeping at the foot of your bed. Maybe he'll protect you if the Mystics happen to come.

You watch Breadsticks purr in his sleep, and quietly tip-toe over to your bed. You climb onto it, careful not to disturb the peacefully sleeping kitty. Even though you're very careful, the bed bounces slightly, arousing Breadsticks.

He slightly growls at you for waking him up, then opens his eyes. The normally bright green eyes of the tabby were red.

You gasp, "Breadsticks! What's wrong with your eyes!?"

The cat looks at you and, strangely, speaks to you, "Huh? What's wrong with my eyes? Are they crossed? What? Stop looking at me like that! What's wrong with my eyes?!"

You stare at your cat. He just talked to you. "Um... you're eyes are red... HOW ARE YOU TALKING?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I bet a talking kitty-cat is pretty scary to a child like you," Breadsticks chuckles, "In my dreams I saw a tiny flying person. She called herself a fay-ree..."

"Fairy," you correct him.

"Yeah that's it," Breadsticks continues, "Anyway, she touched my head and whispered some words, and then my eyes hurt like crazy. That's probably why they're read. After that happened, she said, 'You can talk now, kitty.' And then she looked like she was about to say something else, but you woke me up."

"Yeah... sorry about waking you... I was trying not to, I promise."

"Oh that's fine, Rowan," He says and yawns, "We should both go back to sleep."