Clara clutched the note, her heart racing. That night, armed with a lantern and her curiosity, she followed a faint silver glow that seemed to dance along the forest path. The moonlight filtered through the trees, guiding her deeper into the woods.
She stumbled upon a clearing where dozens of cats had assembled in a perfect circle. In the center sat Mistletoe, his fur glinting under the moonlight. But what truly astonished her was the way the cats seemed to communicate—not with meows, but with a silent understanding, a shared purpose.
A deep, melodious voice interrupted her thoughts.
TO BE CONTINUED
