On Pangea...
The bipedal feline Starveil Night Lynx stood frozen in the center of Aurem's massive cavern, both front paws wrapped tightly around the bowl of 'sacred liquid', her claws digging into its smooth rim as though it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.
Lord Aurem was gone.
And she was still alive.
A shaky breath escaped her chest, then another, each one coming faster than the last as the tension she had been holding snapped loose all at once. Her legs weakened, forcing her to brace herself against the edge of the stone cavern wall as the delayed terror drained out of her body.
She had truly believed she was about to die.
She had spilled the sacred liquid. Just a few drops. But in this place, under this tyrant, such a mistake could have been fatal. She had felt it with absolute certainty in that moment—the certainty of a prey animal whose instincts screamed that a predator was paying attention to it.
Yet nothing had happened.
