John shakes him off, more like he's been startled than anything, but Martin still shies away instantly as if he'd been shoved, sucking in deep, panicked breaths, until...

Until a cat emerges.

"Oh," Martin says, a bit breathless, in response to John's statement. Just a cat, he says. And it's come up on the bed to them. Martin doesn't have much experience with cats — he's not allowed any pets, and the only neighborhood animals he's had occasion to meet are dogs — but he likes them. He's relieved when John reaches out first, like maybe he knows what he's doing. The cat walks right up to him, and he starts to pet it, and then he sniffles a bit. Martin looks at him, only for a second before looking away. It makes him feel a bit better not to be the only one near tears, but he's also sure John wouldn't want him to notice. Most boys don't.

The cat starts to purr, catching his attention easily. Martin holds his breath for a moment, then reaches out tentatively. The cat immediately presses into his hand as well, moving closer to they can both pet it more easily, purring all the more.

"He's so soft," says Martin, quietly delighted, his terror momentarily forgotten. "Er... she?" He's not really sure how to tell.