She caught the noodle between her hands in the middle of the hallway, the one with the old carpet that ridged up in places as though there were tectonic plates clashing underneath. She tripped over one of the ridges, but kept the noodle firmly in her hands. She felt it straining against her palms, trying to break free. Then sunny pounced on her, licking her face and pawing at her hands.
"No, no, come on... I'm hungry too, okay? Okay?"
"Mine," Sunny said. Amber stopped moving.
"Mine," Sunny said. His jaw didn't actually move. The voice just appeared in Amber's mind. The noodle pounded on the inside of Amber's hand, and she yipped and let her hands slacken a moment. Just a moment too much, and the noodle shot free and prowled about the ceiling.
"It's just one noodle," Amber said. "Come on. Bad dog. Bad."
"One noodle for human? Meal? Pathetic," Sunny thought-said. "Get real food. Human food. Leave noodle to me."
"You should know I'm stubborn," Amber said. "Even if it's just one noodle. And I'm surprised how well I'm taking having a mind-reading telekinetic super pooch."
"Special pooch," Sunny said, panting and letting his tongue flop out in a dashingly canine smile. "Really want noodle?"
"Yes," Amber nodded.
"Fair, then. Be fair."
"Fair... Fair how?" Before Amber could ponder this, she noticed something funny. She'd shrunk, and a maelstrom of new sounds attacked her ears, at the same time as a whirlwind of new smells filled her nostrils. Sunny peered down at her, and she felt an insane urge to twitch her ears and curl her tail, which was impossible since she didn't have either.
Until she looked back and saw her furry golden tail swishing. Then she looked at her paws. Yes, paws. She held one up, flexed it so the sharp little claws came out. She meowed, then hissed.