SEREN
For every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
In every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
In every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
Groaning softly, Seren slumped into her pile of cushions and buried her head away for a while. Thinking furiously, she looked up after a time and stared at the kitten Maeve had picked up. An idea slowly began to take form, and she reached for one of the pastries. Chewed it slowly, to buy time to formulate the story.
"Did you know? Back in the beginning when the world was young, many witches roamed the land," she began, and let her voice lower into a melodious hum befitting of stories. "They all had many wonderful talents - some dark and some light, and some right in between. One girl had the amazing ability to turn into a cat. Big and black it was, with a star on its chest, and in that form she loved to sneak into the houses of her fellow witches and steal cream."
Because what else would a cat find interesting?
"Now, this one time, our cat-witch grew a little overconfident, and she stole her way into the house of the most powerful one of all her sisters. A dark witch of a mean temper, who was very stingy with her most delicious of creams and did not want to share at all. She caught our friend in the act, lifted her by the scruff of her neck and laid a terrible curse upon her; eight chances she had to repay what she stole, but if by the ninth the debt was not paid, she would be stuck as a cat forever, and be forced to dine on souls for all her days."
Seren reached for the mother-cat and stroked her ears gently; the feline tolerated it, but it was an impersonal sort of purr that started up. Hardly affectionate.
"And so our friendly cat-witch was made to run from house to house and repay the witches for the cream she had stolen. And time and time again they made her use her shift to fulfill their wishes... and by the time she had finally scraped up enough to repay the dark witch, she had used up all her lives but one. When she returned to repay the debt however, a clever Gore Crow stole her precious price, and now she had nothing to pay with. But the cat-witch was not one to go back on her word, so she returned to the dark one all the same. She used her last shift to do a favor, like she had done so many times before... but it was not enough. And so she was cursed to remain in her shift forevermore, and to hunt for souls instead of sweet cream. So if you ever wander the forest at night, beware the sound of soft paws behind you. For it will be the Cait Sith, and the last thing you hear before she eats your soul will be a - "
Mrreaow.
The sound came from right behind Maeve, of a cat's deep, hungry cry.
"Did you know? Back in the beginning when the world was young, many witches roamed the land," she began, and let her voice lower into a melodious hum befitting of stories. "They all had many wonderful talents - some dark and some light, and some right in between. One girl had the amazing ability to turn into a cat. Big and black it was, with a star on its chest, and in that form she loved to sneak into the houses of her fellow witches and steal cream."
Because what else would a cat find interesting?
"Now, this one time, our cat-witch grew a little overconfident, and she stole her way into the house of the most powerful one of all her sisters. A dark witch of a mean temper, who was very stingy with her most delicious of creams and did not want to share at all. She caught our friend in the act, lifted her by the scruff of her neck and laid a terrible curse upon her; eight chances she had to repay what she stole, but if by the ninth the debt was not paid, she would be stuck as a cat forever, and be forced to dine on souls for all her days."
Seren reached for the mother-cat and stroked her ears gently; the feline tolerated it, but it was an impersonal sort of purr that started up. Hardly affectionate.
"And so our friendly cat-witch was made to run from house to house and repay the witches for the cream she had stolen. And time and time again they made her use her shift to fulfill their wishes... and by the time she had finally scraped up enough to repay the dark witch, she had used up all her lives but one. When she returned to repay the debt however, a clever Gore Crow stole her precious price, and now she had nothing to pay with. But the cat-witch was not one to go back on her word, so she returned to the dark one all the same. She used her last shift to do a favor, like she had done so many times before... but it was not enough. And so she was cursed to remain in her shift forevermore, and to hunt for souls instead of sweet cream. So if you ever wander the forest at night, beware the sound of soft paws behind you. For it will be the Cait Sith, and the last thing you hear before she eats your soul will be a - "
Mrreaow.
The sound came from right behind Maeve, of a cat's deep, hungry cry.
In every dreamer a dream - we're unstoppable
with something to believe in
with something to believe in
