“Zoya and I gaped at him. Then she scowled. "You know, if you turned a bit of that poetry on me, I might consider giving you a change."
"Who says I want one?"
"I want one!" called Harshaw.
Zoya blew a damp curl from her forehead. "Oncat as a better chance than you."
Harshaw held the little tabby above him. "Why, Oncat," he said. "You rogue.”
―
Leigh Bardugo,
Ruin and Rising