Fisher wasn't a story teller-- he was a live, breathing hero. At least, in his head. He was the main character, the one who the myths and legends would be told about. He had fought countless Kings, even a demon of a creature that he thought the true King of Shadows... Or at least, something descended from it. The only thing he could think as he clutched his perch was that the tiny, shadow-melting doe bellow looked nothing like what he had imagined a king to look like. Big, sweeping wings, flying above all, squawking sharp, biting empty words, asking to be taken down by his lightning.
... No, uh. Whatever the story teller had changed into, it was immensely more scary than that. So much so, that he didn't really know what to do. For a moment he was paralyzed, listening to Fallah and the doe trade longer, elegant words. All he wanted to do was scream, lash out with violent claws and electricity coming out of his fur. That usually didn't end well, and in fact, he held back for that very reason. He didn't know what she was capable of. So instead, the mustelid watched, fur bristling, as the shadows morphed and he watched his own shadow's neck be cut and flop.
Then the shadows came for him, personally. His instincts told him to flee from the dangerous magic, but his head told him that, for Caves sake, shadows weren't physical. They couldn't hurt him. He bared his teeth, a different kind of magic surging through his body for a moment. His eyes glinted with a hot, burning fire and his pupils grew wide, his vision cutting through the shadows with greater ease than before. They weren't real, he told himself, body against the warm, safe feeling of Fallah's coat.
"We will NEVER bow!" He snapped again, pelt fluffed up to make him look something between a blow dried noodle and an oversize pipecleaner. "... What do we do, Fallah?" The fisher cat hissed to his friend, struggling against the urge to rush her down and chase her off or flee for the safety of the mists.
He usually trusted his gut, but for some reason, he found himself wanting to hear the story. Wanting to know his role. He was waiting for the story beat that gave him chance to play the big hero, to fight the brave fight... And right then, he found himself staring at as husk of a innocent story teller, unsure if what she was saying was true.