The sound of the guitar string whipping back to lash Ciaran's arm had disturbed Iskra, who was now sitting upright and alert with her paws on his legs. She made a soft little sound and nuzzled his kneecap.

Ciaran rubbed his arm and then reached down to give Iskra's ear a scritch but stopped halfway as a blonde girl helped herself to a seat across from him and began talking at him.

Both feline and human stared at the girl for a few seconds as though they were trying to weigh up whether this was a person they liked or not. Neither seemed to reach a proper conclusion; Iskra contented herself with finding a more comfortable position to lie in as Ciaran worked on a response to the girl's question.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "My string broke. Someone had it wound too tightly."