The caravan was moving, Ethan and Amos in the back of a wagon instead on atop Battlepaws' saddle. The murder muffin was with them, purring his heart out.
He was just a small kitten. He had worked for a fire elemental, once, and had seen death in all its gore.
But the sick person was Ethan. Ethan, who was kind and snuck him fish after dinner. Ethan, who loved to pet him between the ears.
Battlepaws worried.
And, just like every other time he worried and could not solve his problems with his needle-like claws, he purred.
Ethan, for his part, was trying to adjust to Amos' mana. The man was not the Grim Reaper anymore, but that did not mean that his mana was any different.
As Ethan blinked and tried to tell whether the shadows were moving or not, he could not help but think that this time, he, and Amos, were going to end up getting linked.
