My name is Tove. I am from the Panthera Clan, until recently, I have been driven from camp.
One peaceful night, in the middle of a perfectly normal clan meeting, the Eldest Elder had proclaimed me as 'too much trouble to handle'. I was the best junior hunter in the clan, bringing back the most kill from weekly hunts.
Throwing me out of the clan would cause their fresh kill to decrease rapidly. Still, they hoisted me up and removed my war paint. They only company I had was my mangy panther, Claw. And so, here I am, alone in the west part of the forest.
The forest belongs to the Panthera Clan. From what the Panthers lack in combat, they make up for their speed and stealth. There are in total seven clans, the most powerful being the proud Lions of Leo Clan, prowling the savannah. Tigris Clan, known for their strength, roam the dense taiga, along with Onca and Pardus Clan in the jungle, boarderd by the Lupus Clan grasslands. The snowy mountain peaks are inhabited by Puma and Uncia Clan, constantly rivaling each other for prey.
I kneel down and stroke Claw on the head. He yawns and stretches, then prods aways, in search of food. His ebony fur camouflages against the midnight sky, filled with the stars of ancient ancestors.
None would agree that the Panthers are the mightest of the beasts, but stealthy we are, second only to the Tigers.
Seconds later, I hear a soft rustling in the bushes nearby. It was definitely not Claw. I blow into a small instrument made of bone, and he sprints back to my side, mouth matted with blood from his recent meal, growling. The bushes sway even more.
A shrill voice breaks the silence,"It's about time, Son of Darkness."