Урсула Ле Гуин - Catwings

“Purr,” said Harriet.

“I promise. And we’ll never ever tell anybody else,” Hank said, rather fiercely. “Ever! Because – you know how people are. If people saw them –”

“I promise,” Susan said. She and Hank shook hands, promising.

Roger flew gracefully over and landed on Hank’s shoulder.

“Purr,” said Roger.

“They could live in the old barn,” Susan said. “Nobody ever goes there but us. There’s that old dovecote up in the loft, with all those holes in the wall where the doves flew in and out.”

“We can take hay up there and make them a place to sleep,” Hank said.

“Purr,” said Roger.

Very softly and gently Hank raised his hand and stroked Roger right between the wings.

“Oooh,” said James, watching. He jumped down off the stump and came trotting over to the children. He sat down near Susan’s shoes. Very softly and gently Susan reached down and scratched James under the chin and behind the ears.

“Purr,” James said, and drooled a little on Susan’s shoe.

“Oh, well,” said Thelma, having cleaned up the last of the cold roast beef. She arose in the air, flew over with great dignity, sat right down in Hank’s lap, folded her wings, and said, “Purr, purr, purr…”

“Oh, Hank,” Susan whispered, “their wings are furry.”

“Oh, James,” Harriet whispered, “their hands are kind.”

The End