On his chair, the yellow slit of Greebo’s left eye opened lazily.
“Get down, You,” said Granny, lifting the kitten off her head and putting it on the floor.
…
Greebo’s eye opened all the way, and he began to growl softly.
“You sure you know what you’re doing, Esme?” said Nanny Ogg, reaching for a cushion to throw. “He’s very protective of his territory.” You, the kitten, sat on the floor and washed her ears. Then, as Greebo got to his feet, she fixed him with an innocent little stare and took a flying leap onto his nose, landing on it with all her claws out.
“So is she,” said Granny Weatherwax, as Greebo erupted from the chair and hurtled around the room before disappearing into the kitchen.
- Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith
(Illustration credit: AndrewSalt. Image description: An ink illustration of two cats. The tiny pure white one, You, is sitting down with eyes happily closed washing her paw. Behind her looms Greebo, black furry hide covered in scars, back arched, mouth open to show menacing fangs, about to bite her.)
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