Minnowtail novella when though.
Curiosity killed the cat, Minnowkit thinks, dabbing her paw in the odd, silvery liquid. She wonders what it will taste like. She wonders what Dawnflower would say if she said she hated her, she wonders what her brother would do if she shoved him in a river, she wonders what would happen if she ran straight out of the camp and kept running.
They aren't things she wants to do, per se, just… scenarios her brain cooks up. She just wants to see what would happen. The voice that murmurs in her ear when she's on her best behaviour.
She looks at her rippling reflection in the strange liquid and the curiosity surges. She bends and laps a few mouthfuls. It's disgusting, tongue-curlingly gross, but the satisfaction of answered curiosity is overwhelming.
Days later, when she's still shivering and weak in the medicine den, she tries to regret it. She tries to remember it when the next intrusive thought comes along. When the voice whispers in her ear again.
One night, she wakes up in a dreamy, misty world, and the cat that the voice that whispers belongs to is standing in front of her.