War, veterans, poverty, alcohol, and black markets; a sector split from the supposed civilized people. It was a recipe for points. A hallmark of opportunity.
Dasha walked the halls of Les Murmures, silently knitting Qi throughout his organs. Beside him was Xavier, his guide. An unnecessary role as he had already memorized the haunted mansion's general layout. Blinking once behind his mask, Dasha shortened his stride. The layout wasn't all that concerning. No, what caught his attention were the creatures of the night.
The cats.
'Too many cats. Someone appears to like them.'
He had noticed a Bombay black cat roaming the halls of Les Murmures before. Its yellow eyes glanced his way and moved on. Now, it was an orange tabby; an American Bobtail, to be exact, that casually went through his legs. Xavier didn't seem to care.
