Summer tugged the stack of blankets out of the closet, balancing it carefully — the stack was taller than her head. “Did you get all the pillows?” she shouted, trying to navigate down the hallway without dropping, tripping, or suffocating. A crick was starting to form in her neck when she finally made it to the den, and she dropped the pile to the floor with a soft ‘whump’.

A heap of pillows, and a slightly woebegone Percival, met her eyes.