[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

The hound?

Miaama's blue eyes were icy as she spat the thought at Huine in fury. The younger cat just nodded, a self satisfied look in her amber eyes as she flicked her tail. Miaama bristled with annoyance at both the young one's manner and the man's incompetence. Poisoned the filthy stinking hound and left the boy alive? The white cat leapt down from the chair seat where she had been sitting, one paw flashing out to catch Huine under the chin. The younger cat skidded sideways, bristling with indignance.

The hound? The voice was Athel's, and delighted, as the lithe black figure slid out from behind a wall. Poor little doggie... she chuckled, her tail tracing a satisfied pattern through the air. Miaama held her calm barely, hissing through clenched teeth at her two comrades.

Yes, he poisoned the hound, but the boy is alive. The last word was filled with hate and the other two cats sat down, suddenly respectful. The mistress will find out, the mistress will know... Oh my poor Mistress... Shaking with anger, Miaama stalked toward the bowls of food. Hers was separate, it always was. The other cats didn't eat her food, she didn't eat theirs.

Stalking toward the bowl the rich smell of liver came toward her. Lassra and Morne lay to one side of the room, licking their lips, smiling their contented cat smiles at the empty bowls. Miaama's nose twitched. The poor mistress who loved her so much, who fed her liver and beef. The poor mistress who had to live with this invader, this boy...

Miaama gasped as she suddenly flipped sideways, her face stinging with pain. Yawla stood bristling between her and the food bowl, with Pirro quivering beside her. What?! Miaama leapt at Yawla pinning her to the floor. What is this? She demanded.

Pirro says it smells funny, Yawla gasped, from beneath the heavier cat. You should listen to him... he doesn't want you to eat it. Miaama sat back and Yawla regained her feet, licking one black paw, smoothing the hairs out once more. Pirro sat beside the liver, his nose quivering above it.

Don't touch it. He hates you, the man, he hates you. Miaama glared at the bowl, sniffing it intently. That man, that horrible, ineffective, deceitful man. Did he have no respect for the mistress? Drawing a final sniff, Miaama stepped back from the bowl.

"Mrooooow!" Her plaintive cry rang through the room. "Mroooooow!" A creak and the sound of footsteps heralded Habeth's arrival. The offending bowl was removed under Miaama's ice blue supervision, and as Habeth retreated Miaama hissed at Athel. Follow. Find out where it goes, watch and see what happens if a creature eats it. Athel nodded her comprehension and slid around the corner after Habeth.

If that bowl was poisoned, Miaama gritted her teeth together furiously, the man will die, the Mistress will see to it.