[Meanwhile, at what once was Ogden Cove]
As I cleaned whisker's litter box, the strange dream lingered in my mind. Purple hair...tan skin…Reynard's head scarf… Was it all connected somehow? Or was I just being too paranoid?
Yes, I must be overthinking. There's no way a child of such a fragile frame could've survived a fall from that height. He would've died instantly by the immense pain from broken joints, if not by the fractured bones themselves. I clenched the small spade in my hand, the foul stench of Whiskers' droppings wafting all around, though of no effect on me as such mind boggling thoughts revolved in my head.
"Hurry it up, will you?" Mama said as she slapped me on the back. I froze up and all thoughts vanished from my mind in but a moment. "You're taking ages. If I was able enough to bend my knees, lassie, I swear upon God I would've cleaned his tray out myself."
