Sonhu drew a line on the stone floor, scratching with the claw of his index finger in a slow, deliberate motion. The sound echoed through the empty room. The line marked the edge of the fog that surrounded all but a single stretch of wall where Sonhu retreated to once he finished drawing his line. In front of the line, two other lines were visible, but one lay hidden behind the fog.

Sonhu had woken up in the room a few hours ago. It appeared to be the temple room where Ilgen Thomas had interrogated him, but at this point, even that seemed uncertain.

Sonhu considered the lines. The four lines had no pattern to them. They showed that the mist was moving, but it both encroached and receded, so he doubted that he had to worry about it overtaking the room too much. The lines showed an in-and-out flow, like breathing or a tide.

He had tested how far he could go into the fog, but cautiously, afraid to get lost in it. He had held the tip of his tail in the room during the test so he would not lose all contact with the room, fearing what would happen if he got lost within the mist. This only let him crawl a bit out into the fog, but still, when he had extended his arm out, he could feel the beginning of the transition from the stone floor of the temple to the dirt that seemed to permeate this… space.

There was very little to be concluded from all of this. Sonhu was trapped. There was little chance of escape. He had considered trying his chances running into the mist and hoping for the best, but concluded that it should be a last resort—only when he became truly desperate. Sonhu had not seen… Ketra since he had awoken, but he doubted that this meant she had not been present at any moment.

He could never shake the feeling that something was watching him. Whether it was… her… or something else within the void of the mist. He never felt alone. Like prey being watched, it felt as if something was waiting, watching, and if Sonhu closed his eyes and listened intently enough, he could hear a quiet slithering sound within the mist.

He sat there for a few more hours before his ears twitched. The faint sound of footsteps. They grew closer and closer until Ketra emerged from the mist. She carried in her hands a loaf of bread and a leather pouch that Sonhu assumed was water.

She tossed the loaf of bread at him. It hit the floor and rolled toward him, then slanted to the side, ending up a few feet to his left. Sonhu watched it roll and then hesitated. He reached out and picked it up. Pulled it to his nose and gave it a few sniffs. It seemed fine. He glanced at Ketra, making sure not to turn his head but to follow her with his eyes. She moved to the far end of the wall to his right, close to the mist.

She remained silent. Not even looking in his direction. She leaned against the wall and began to flip the pouch over in her hands.

Sonhu’s attention returned once again to the loaf. His stomach was eager in anticipation. He took a slow bite. Then another. Sonhu remained temperate in pace as he ate the food, not wanting to upset his stomach. How long had it been since he ate?

As he ate the bread, he remained aware of Ketra. She kept casting glances at him and playing with the pouch of water. Her expression was flat and distant. She was clearly expecting something, but what was it? She likes to test me. Sonhu thought to himself. Her intent is never straightforward… Is it a mistake to have taken the bread? No… It’s something else… the water. She’s deliberately withheld it.

Sonhu was dehydrated, but he also felt the need for caution. He finally finished the loaf. He thought for a moment, pondering what the strange being might want. He shifted his posture to face more toward Ketra, then said,

“May I have some?” His tone is cautious, testing,  “The water?”

She looked at the pouch in her hands. A smirk graces her face for a moment, not a malicious one of triumph, but more a proud, contemplative one. Her posture shifted, and she moved toward him, leaning down and offering the pouch to him.

“Of course you can, my kitty.” She purred. Sonhu accepted the pouch, opened it, and took a slow swig of the water. She watched him intently. Crouching down, she lowered herself to his eye level. A chill ran down his spine. Something nagged at his mind to pull away, but Sonhu made no move to. He knew this would displease her, and there was no benefit to testing her patience at this time.

She watched him as he drank a few more sips. Sonhu then capped the pouch and extended it back to her. She made no movements to take it from him, her gaze unbroken. Sonhu retracted the pouch and set it down against the wall.

A few moments passed. The silence weighed on Sonhu. She’s waiting again… but she doesn’t seem frustrated. Sonhu noted. Questions floated in his mind, but how to ask them? He felt as if he was drowning.

“Where are we?” He asked finally. Not the real heart of the question he wanted to ask, but it was something that might allow him to stumble further into something more challenging to ask.

Ketra tilted her head and looked at him a bit confused,

“We are in the temple.” She told him. Sonhu clenched his jaw, thinking.

“What’s out there, in the fog?” He asked, gesturing with his head. A risky question, but he could feel being vague would get him nowhere.

Ketra looks out to the fog, then back at Sonhu. Her expression is one of deep confusion. Almost as if the question made no sense. She made no response—only stared at Sonhu. There was an odd alien element to her, it was as if what he was asking was foreign to her in some way. Sonhu decided to ask a different question.

“Where are the Ilgen and the crusaeders?”

Ketra pursed her lips before responding,

“They are gone.” She answered abstractly. She then reached out with her hand towards Sonhu. Sonhu recoiled, backing instinctively toward the edge of the mist.

Hurt. Confusion. Disappointment. Her face cycled through these expressions quickly as she retracted her hand. She stood up slowly.