Prescott?
The name sounded familiar to Emma.
She suspired as she remembered where she had heard the name.
She had heard it first from the little girl. The little girl had called its name, when she had been conversing with the invisible being. Was the squirrel the being?
She stared at the animal looking up to her, and shook her head. Perhaps, there was another Prescott.
Her mind was intact. She was sure that she hadn’t see any squirrel around the little girl.
“Don’t you like my name?” Prescott asked, his puffed-out chest retracting to its former position.
“Everyone likes my name.” It said, looking down at his feet.
Emma rolled her eyes as she heard the squirrel talk. This one was a dramatic one for sure. She thought.
“No, that’s not it, Prescott. I like your name. It’s just that I
