A dark she-cat paced the dim cave.

Plotting.

Another cat watched her, eyes swollen and bloodshot.

Blind.

Seeing everything.

They spoke to spirits.

Smoke curled to the ceiling, tasting of the burning herb. The scent was thick and dizzying but she did not notice. She was accustomed to the smell.

It was burned into her face.

Don't think about that.

No, embrace the pain. It made you stronger.

Now you lead them.

"Riddle, do they tell you anything new about the Wanderers?"

A horrible, rasping, broken voice of someone that had spent their whole life in a cave of burning herbs, passing the time by talking to themself, who had never left and paid the price of sight, came from the other cat, "They have reached the mountain. One has climbed. They are grieving and their leader is weak. That is what the spirit told me."

"Good."

A brown tom appeared in the entrance.

"Runar. You've finished burning the body?" she asked.

"Of course, Enigma."

"Perfect. We will let them have their mountain, and then we will find them."

Day by day, we will watch them.

Learn their ways and weaknesses.

And then the carnage will come.

And Then The Carnage Will Come
By KittyPeep on deviantART (me)

To be continued...