The black cat that twined around the ladder was not the one made famous by that particular author. The Cat was whole and purring in approval, or had been until the book had dropped from above. Hissing, he hopped away, evading the spirits and pouncing upon the Raven before shoving it back into the book. The other fictitious things that skittered about managed to evade his searching paws.

Sighing, he stepped away from the ladder - it was impolite to look up a lady's skirts even if such things did not concern Cats - looking up at Evelyn. A beetle crept along the edge of a shelf and for a moment the Cat considered whether or not it would give him indigestion before turning his attention back to the woman. "Please do not drop any more volumes. The next time something more distasteful might escape."