Shamus, though one of many Brounies that lived on the estate, was the only one who came out during the day. My grandmother brought him with her to the estate when she retired. Her servant for centuries, I was sure she couldn't imagine her home without him.
Shamus had wiry, red-brown hair, the ends of which stuck out even though he used grease to slick it back. He had a terribly old-fashioned and formal disposition. I'm afraid I annoyed him a great deal with my habit of making myself at home in his mistress's house.
He tagged along behind me as I continued on my way to the library. I moved briskly, impatient to see my grandmother. He worked his short legs hard to keep up with me while maintaining his starched demeanor.
"Miss Tressa, if you can't wait for me to open the door for you, won't you please allow me to announce your arrival to Mistress Órlaith?"
"No need, Shamus my friend. She knows I'm coming," I said over my shoulder as I approached the library door. I had to raise my voice a notch to be heard over the American country music blaring from behind the door; oddly, my grandmother had acquired a taste for it since moving to the states.
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