Chapter 397: Catswolds

When approaching the Catswolds, I had expected plains cats, adapted to the wood, perhaps so small as alley cats, or perhaps as large as bears.

"Hold and announce yourselves." the man said in Achean, stepping into view from around a tree. "Who are you? Why are you here, in our lands?"

A Mwarri, Kismet's people.

I had defenses against fear, against stress, against spirits running rampant through my soul.

[You have taken 8 points of Emotional (Sorrow) damage. 8/30 Serenity remain.]

It was, in the parlance of the psyche, a trigger. We had made it to safety. To civilization. And my only feeling was caused by Kismet not being there to see it, to experience her own culture. Or perhaps the remnants of culture.