[ The scratching stops at the sound of Sidney's voice, heads turning towards the end of the hall but still others look back towards the bedroom where they can see their intended prey lingering by that window, black wisps of fur caught on the jagged edges of broken glass it had smashed through but there is no trace of blood. The mirror in that room continues to reflect the pond, the reflection darkening as if in response to their predicament. But instead of storm clouds gathering overhead, the sky itself remains clear— it's the water that muddies, strips of brown like planks of wood underneath the surface. ]
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