Eca pressed her nose to the kitchen window. Capi tapped one foot on the garden path, so she grabbed oats and a spoon.
Eca stirred carrots into the dough. Capi whistled at the glass, and she slid warm cookies toward the back door.
Capi took one cookie, then another. The plate tipped with a crinkle, and he froze beside the scattered crumbs.
Eca rolled carrots into fresh dough. The oven dinged twice, and she carried two full trays toward the garden door.
Eca offered a cookie to a neighbor. A squirrel snatched it, landed on Capi’s head, and paid with an acorn. They burst out laughing.
Eca traded cookies for an apple and a wave. Capi carried one in his teeth, offering it to every passerby.
The last cookie vanished in one bite. Capi burped, the porch teacups rattled, and Eca said, “More next time.”
The next morning, Eca stirred another batch with carrots piled high. Capi tapped early on the path, and the kitchen smelled like a new friendship.
