The cat, the scarecrow, and the sign

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           False woke up with a headache and the lingering feeling of another nightmare hanging over her. Sighing, she got out of bed, and was face to face with a pumpkin scarecrow. She shrieked; frightened out of her wits, until she realized it was just Pumpkin Jack. "Oh, good morning, Jack," She whispered, breathing slowly and deeply. 

           The scarecrow wagged its lopsided pumpkin head at her in response. Pumpkin Jack was made of two sticks in the shape of a cross, with a jacket stuffed with straw and sewn shut stuffed on top of it. Loose chaff still stuck out of the ends of the sleeves where it was tied to the stick arms, and out of the neck where it was barely corked by the enormous pumpkin Jack had for a head.

           It was a jack-o'-lantern without a light, the eyes, nose, and mouth being carved holes with expression and eyebrow lines having been painted on. A batty, weatherbeaten felt hat sat atop the pumpkin handle, looking like a dead rat. Overall, the scarecrow should have been comical, considered a child's plaything. But False associated him with nausea, amnesia, and fear.

           Jimena came into her room, looking concerned. "False? Are you okay?" She asked, then she glanced at Pumpkin Jack and started studying the scarecrow as if for threats. "Oh, nothing. Jack just startle me, is all." False said, patting the scarecrow's shoulder. "I see," Jimena said. After a pause, she added, "Is Jack alive?"

           "Um..." False looked at the stuffed patchwork body; his carved face smiled at her. False had never doubted Pumpkin Jack's aliveness. It wasn't even something she thought she had to consider. She just knew it. The way he always moved around when she wasn't looking seemed to prove that. But looking at it now... 

           "I don't know," False said at last. "He moves around when I'm not looking, but..." Jimena just stared at it for a good five more minutes, until she said, "I'm hungry." False wasn't particularly interested in breakfast, but there was a reason that it was the most important meal of the day, so she and Jimena figured out how to cook sunny side ups.

           After half an hour of trying to find where the chickens went and where in Cogsmeade they laid their eggs, figuring out how to neatly crack them and how to get the egg yolk into the right bowl, and finding out how long eggs should be cooking in pans; with Pumpkin Jack critically watching them the whole time; they successfully managed to get two messy scrambled eggs onto two plates. And a kitchen covered in eggshells and yolk and a sink full of dirty dishes. 

           "I think the egg white wasn't supposed to mix with the egg yolk," False said, eying the slab of messy breakfast. Jimena cautiously poked it with a spoon. "I have amnesia; is egg supposed to be like this?" False chuckled. "Uh, maybe it tastes better than it looks."

           After eating, they both decided that if they ever try to cook egg again, they needed to add salt. And preferably less syrup. "Tomorrow, I want to go to Sanctuary for breakfast." Jimena said. "Why?" "Because Sausage's name suggests he's a good cook, and I'm pretty sure whatever he eats will be better than our attempt at sunny side ups." 

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           Jimena was walking around Cogsmeade when she saw it. A tiny, twitchy cream and brown form running around a corner. Curious, Jimena went closer. She was sure that it was either a cat or dog,but she hadn't seen that many animals around Cogsmeade yet.

           Maybe I can tame it and I'll have my own pet. She found the little creaturesitting on a rock under a tree, licking its paw. It was definitely a cat, andupon closer inspection, it was a Siamese. Lean and agile, ever the beautiful and graceful predator it was. A soft, milky cream brown coat dotted with chocolate-colored fur made Jimena wish she could pet it. Its eyes were startling, looking just like False's eyes; shrewd and blue, like gazing into a deep pool. 

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