I hush Pouncer from making a sound as I tred by his shaggy mane on my way to the writing desk. I stoop down to quickly scratch behind his ears and gently tug at his wiskers. Was it me or were his stripes fading a bit? 'Age catches up to us all,' I mutter into into a pen and quill at my desk. Pouncer turns to face me, feigning disinterest. 'Perhaps for you,' he murmers through our bond before laying his head down again to sleep, dreaming the dreams of tigers.
I rest down onto the cushions of my bench, breaking a fresh seal off of my latest scroll and unfurling it to last nights passage.
... the symbols of faith unified, the hero halts the beasts of scale and carnage. Peace at last for those who remain.