[Dark Saint Alaick]

Danner fidgeted. The laboratory was unheated and consequently chilly. From its gloomy interior the kitten peered beneath the door and saw the fire. It sensed warmth. The feline affinity for hearths drew it. One paw scratched tentatively on the door.
"It's cold," Mrs. Danner said. "Why don't you bring it in here? No, I don't want it here. Take it a cover."
"It--it has a cover." Danner did not wish to go into that dark room.
The kitten scratched again and then it became earnest. There was a splitting, rending sound. The bottom panel of the door was torn away and it emerged nonchalantly, crossing the room and curling up by the fire.
For five minutes Mrs. Danner sat motionless. Her eyes at length moved from the kitten to her husband's quivering face and then to the broken door. Then she spoke. "So. You've done it?"
"Done what?" he asked innocently.