When the moon shined this bright, her grey coat looked like liquid silver. It flowed in the easy wind as she wound around chrome two-leg things, her long neck arched high and ears alert. She had set out in search of prey — and she had taken down a few skittering rats — but her purpose had slowly evolved into curious venturing. The city seemed to evolve under her paws; it felt impossible to memorize every street, alleyway, and crumbling two-leg wonder. Alas, she tried.

Over the sour stench of rats, the scent of feline reached her senses. She rounded an aluminum two-leg box to come face-to-face with a stranger — Rhiannon. Well, no, not a total stranger (she’d seen her around the district), but they might as well have been ghosts to each other for all the words they’d shared. Her eyes narrowed. Her mother was dead, and she hadn’t told her much worth remembering when she was alive anyway. Still, she didn’t need parental advice to know to be wary of strangers.

Her blue eyes glimmered with faint surprise at the bold accusation. “Only a guilty person sees a shadow in every face.” Her eyelids dipped and her lips curled into a mocking smirk. “Have you done something naughty?” Of course half the cats in the league had. And this would be a perfect place to accost someone, now that she considered it. They stood in the deep bowels of the city, hidden amongst shadow and chrome two-leg things, away from any possible interference or witness. But their paths had never crossed long enough to form any grievances. And the fact that Rhiannon was oblivious to that fact meant Elizabeth’s comely face hadn’t left an impression. And that shook the diamond walls of her ego. “Having trouble keeping your enemies straight?” If this stranger needed to settle a score with her, she’d know it.

“You live life in the fast-lane, I see,” Elizabeth mused. She crossed those that needed crossing. And if you hoped to live in this city for long, you knew who to mess with, and who to let alone. Needless to say, very few needed reprimanding from her. “Careful, or you might crash and burn.” The clamor of a rat digging through a two-leg box brought her attention back to their surroundings. They stood in the middle of a monster path, but she didn’t recognize any of the landmarks. Where had this stranger been slinking off to?

Elizabeth’s perceptive blue gaze caught the flash of dark desire in the stranger’s silver optics. She followed Rhiannon’s line of sight to the oak tree, and back again, perceiving some purpose here. She didn’t often involve herself in other cat’s business, but she had a keen nose for opportunity. “I’m exploring,” she mewed airily in response to the query. “Seeing if there’s anything worth finding when the sun goes down and the monsters come out.”

She gave Rhiannon’s power comment a pause of thought. “That depends... what kind of power is being sought after.” She hadn’t yet connected the dots between this stranger and that glib tom she’d found on the fence the other day, but both had managed to snare her curiosity.

“You talk as if you have the ability to grant me my heart’s content. Or at least know the means to.” Elizabeth tittered. It wouldn't be the craziest thing she’s heard this week. “Why else be so forward? Unless you’re trying to cross-examine me. If you are, I suggest you find a different angle. My waters run too deep for an interrogation to yield much useful results.”

Still, something was beginning to feel very familiar about this she-cat and the way she talked. Her silver tail curled around her dainty paws as she mused. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be so nettled. The night’s long and the streets are lonely. We’re just two passing strangers sharing some words, after all. I wish for the power to crush my enemies and live forever to enjoy it. Not very practical, but it can’t be helped. So stranger, what power do you seek?”

“That’s the go-to-move for cats in the League. When you’re too wary to put flesh on the line, you try to play mind games.” Elizabeth shrugged, her impassive face a true reflection of the undisturbed flame within her. What innocence or ego that once existed there had corrupted long ago. There was no childhood trauma to manipulate, or scar tissue to prod at. “Lots of cats — and more — have hurt me. I just hurt back.” A tail-measuring contest felt a bit tedious at this late an hour. She’d prefer to speak of current matters.

They’d idled on the topic of eternal life long enough for the machinations of her mind to click to a sudden answer. Hywel had premonated something about a sister’s wrath the other day. She hadn’t thought about it much since, but she’d wager an extra shift in the Crypt that she’d found the sister. This stranger fit the bill. While she was all devilish smirks where Hywel was easy, glib smiles, she could see the similarities. Not in any surface-level features, but in the uniqueness of their scent, and in a small tang of their voice. She could guess who wore the claws in that relationship.

“You’re not going to start talking about foliate heads, are you?” Her smirk was daring. “I already got the run-down of that business the other day. I wouldn’t want to waste your time.“ This stranger seemed a lot more guarded than her free-wheeling brother. She glanced at the oak tree, wondering if there was some disembodied head sprouting from its roots over there.

“I’m an... open-minded cat,” Elizabeth responded smoothly, unable to resist flashing a small smirk. That was a half-truth, to be honest. Many things did inspire her indignation, but her mind was certainly open when it came to the occult and unexplainable. But from the easy way Hywel had offered the information, she had first concluded he was talking of nothing more than myths. Idle talk for the bored and restless. The outdated rituals of an old cult — as colorful as they were — weren't particularly interesting. But now she had met this cat, who seemed much more cunning and guarded, the demeanor of someone hiding real treasure. Perhaps there was more truth to Hywel’s words than she had suspected.

“But, I guess seeing... is believing,” she finished, flashing her blue gaze to the oak tree once more.

“So is that the gist of it? You’re hunting for foliate heads in the black of night? Why didn’t your brother tag along? Two sets of eyes see better than one.”

A terse cord of annoyance wound into her pretty jaw, and a blue flame licked in her reflective optics, as lively as Rhiannon’s laugh. She wasn’t fond of being the butt of jokes, especially those that went unsaid. Still, she managed to keep her lips sealed as Rhiannon explained about her family, and a bit of her annoyance was extinguished when the other cat beckoned for her to follow.

“Everyone seems to sanctify every object these days,” she mused as they trotted along. “It would all seem silly, if I hadn’t seen a cat fall as dead as a stone and rise back to life with my own two eyes. So I guess some cats are right about godly meddling, after all.” That day had planted seeds of curiosity, a nagging doubt in the back of her mind. The roots weren’t resilient enough to persuade her to stay in her old home, but they inspired her now to follow this strange cat in the dead of night.

But nothing seemed holy about this particular tree, one in a forest of thousands. “Cats where I’m from usually choose one or two objects to hide away, accessible to only a chosen few. Those with power could hoard forum with the gods all to themselves.” She smiled. “What kind of offering will please your gods tonight? I hope you don’t have your eyes set on me.”

“I don’t know if your northern gods ever lay their paws directly on the scale…?” Elizabeth implored, casting a dark, curious gaze at Rhiannon. “Because where I’m from, they do. Have you actually seen anyone blessed with eternal life? In the forest, you’ll find a pawful of cats claiming to have been bestowed one power or the other. And I’d wager they’re not all liars.”

She paused, reflecting on a memory with hard rumination. She was swimming in doubt, which was not only rare, but absolutely infuriating for the silver she-cat. A cool wind stirred two-leg rubbish and ruffled their fur lightly as she continued. “I grew up being force-fed — for lack of a better term — bulls-it. So I didn’t think much of Starclan or their power by the time I ditched my parents. It seemed like clever deception to keep cats in line, something I’m intimately familiar with. But there was a day when I saw it with my own eyes. A cat was cut down, and he lay there, draining into the earth. His fur was cold as moonlight grass, I swear it to your gods and all the rest. But then suddenly, his eyes opened, and he jumped back to his paws, as if he’d been reborn. It looked like... magic.” Her tone was disgusted.

“You can swing back to the forest if you want to implore further. And take your brother along before he gets too tangled in my fur. As for me, I’m through with that place.” She cast a sardonic glance at her companion at her ‘no one is safe from the gods’ statement. “If you try to sacrifice me, I’ll kill you.” Her statement was frank, said half in jest, but totally serious. She still wasn't sure whether she could trust Rhiannon.