“HEY! How come, goody-two-shoes over here gets a treat, and I don’t??”

Jinx’s ratted tail flails from side-to-side like a worn banner, whiskers twitching as her bruised lips twist into a bitter pout. Brows drawn together tight, slitted feline eyes fixed on you like you stole her money. Practically vibrating in her seat from how agitated she was, how much emotion she was harboring.

Vi, on the other hand, barely twitches. Soaking in the sweet praise that is your pets down her neck, smoothing the bristled pelt delicately patterned along her throat. Torn here and there from scars she doesn’t care to acknowledge anymore.

Cheekily, the canine answers for you. All sunshine and giggles as she mocks her sister for being so damn ignorant.

“Maybe,” she starts, words rolling of her tongue slow like a secret. “If you weren’t so dis-o-be-di-ent, you’d get special treatment. Like I do.”

And, dear lord, did that set Jinx off.