Loccy knelt beside her travel bag while the pile around it grew taller than the bag itself.
A pastry tin, the chess set, two cushions, a spare blanket and her favorite mug all waited for a place.
'It all fits if I sit on the bag and nobody asks me to lift it.'
Then her ears twitched, finding a second, smaller pile tucked against the far side of the bag.
A cushion, a plum, a wooden duck and a folded drawing sat there in the same careful order.
Nyra peeked around the doorframe while her attendant waited in the corridor behind her, pretending not to watch.
"You copied me," Loccy squeaked, ears springing straight up.
"You copied first."
"That's not how copying works!"
Nyra stepped inside and nudged her plum closer to the pastry tin, "It works if you go away for a long time."
