[ The Cat makes a face, not a grimace or a frown, but something somewhere in the middle. He can tell Charles' instinct is to deliberate, to discuss and puzzle out this mystery, because that's all he's known for the last thirty-whatever years at Edwin's side. He and Edwin could do this little back and forth, share ideas and come to a solution they've built together down to their excellent ghost detective teamwork.

But the Cat is not Edwin. The Cat doesn't do teamwork, because the Cat doesn't do teams. He doesn't do friends, or even partnerships. The fact that it's all down to the simple reason that he's never had the opportunity to try goes unheeded in his mind, focusing instead on the sheer lack between them. There's no great mind to puzzle out magical intention here, just a Cat who knows what to avoid and a foolish puppy of a ghost who will follow him around because he doesn't know any better. ]

If this was the same mirror you got barfed out of, I'd say it's a side effect. But this is a totally different mirror in a totally different place, on the other side of town.

[ Look at him, hypothesising anyway despite his reluctance. Anyone ever heard of a Cat detective? ]

My cannery is on a ley line. Magic is more potent here. [ He looks back to the mirror, raising his hand, tapping his four fingers on its surface one after the other - like he'd seen Edwin do in an effort to help himself think. Perhaps it'll help him, too. ] So whatever it is that's here will be more powerful too.