Mooowwwww! . . . . mow?
Dewey found himself in a room with shifting proportions, waves of fur bellowed from the walls, the columns were almost breathing, purring. Speaking of purring, a sound which was all-encompassing, yet not deafening filled the air. Repeated pounds of sound, Purrs.
Hello Dewey, o child of ours. You have reached the hallowed halls many subconscious cat minds dream of.
Litrinaht, we call it, a pocket of the intermediary plane, a paradise of fur and cat logi- Oop! We see a squirrel!
Dewey whipped his head around to see literally nothing. He was entranced all the same.
The two of them stared out into the sea of fur until a rip tore through the roof of the realm. A flash of light and a grating robotic noise coincided.
It seems we have another visitor.
Welcome, Louise.
