"I was lookin' for ye this afternoon, Screechy," said Flea. "Set down."
The lean, half-starved woman dropped beside the girl. Flea put out her hand and smoothed down the rough hair on Scraggy's black cat. The animal, usually so vicious, purred in delight, rubbing his nose against the girl's hand.
"Air the little Flea wantin' the owl to tell her somethin'?"
"Yep," replied Flea doubtfully.
"And ye brought yer old Screechy a little present?"
"Yep."
"What?"
"Some fagots to keep ye warm, Screechy."
"Where be they?"
"Here by my side."