Detects haunts

I thought about telling my dad about them, but … he may have been nice and a wizard, but he was also a grown-up. If you started talking to grown-ups about things they couldn’t see, let’s just say that you didn’t get to go chase fireflies near dark very often. Besides. What if he thought I was, you know? Broken. What if he didn’t want a daughter who was all funny in the head?
So I kept quiet and close to Mouse. The haunts didn’t dare get very close as long as he was there. Mouse could sort of see the creeps, if they got close enough and weren’t careful to be super quiet and lowkey. Even though he’s an adult, he’s a grown-up dog, and that makes him a lot like a kid. So far, they’d kept their distance to avoid his notice, and as long as they stayed that far back, their Scare Bear Stare couldn’t do much more than make me grumpy—and the awesome factor in the zoo was kind of countering that.

Brief Cases, Zoo Day, Page 401-402


I felt Maggie suddenly grow tense, and paused to look at her, one paw in the air. Her expression was intent and serious, and I knew there was one of those creatures she called creeps nearby. Creeps were serious business, a threat to children; adult humans could not seem to sense them at all. Even I could barely tell when one was nearby. I had to get close enough to jump on one to sense it properly, and even then I only saw shadows and smelled cold and hunger.
It was not my place to fight them. I knew that from my nose all the way in my tail, the same way I knew how to use the power that had been given me. It was my duty to defend and protect the home, and these creatures were meant to be a training ground for the young. Humans forgot them as they aged, but the lessons taught by facing such predators lasted for life. It was not my place to interfere in Maggie’s learning

Brief Cases, Zoo Day, Page 416