Tom looks from the ears, to Hickey, and then to the tea at just around the same time Hickey asks.

"...Right on," he says, because he's not exactly sure how else to handle this. He treats it like everything else: let it come, he'll find a way to float over the waves. Maybe he'll have cat ears forever. That would be fantastic, right?

A thought occurs to him, and he fidgets for one of the many rings on his fingers, rubbing the smoothest silver piece to better get a reflection, and then proceeds to hold it in front of Hickey so he can see himself.

"I suppose this means we're mortal enemies."