Quiet.

Hunched over in the shadows. Large kitten eyes, which could've glittered with childhood innocence, watched with malice as Madhukar walked away. No more words were exchanged. She was tired, and sore, and definitely going to need some anti-electricity protection someday. She knew her opponent was just as weary.

The torbie didn't look away from her, and Twisted did the same. A quiet, tense staredown through the tunnel. A cold war, really. It didn't cross her mind how brutal her first moments were, but it still shifted her tremendously. This world was harsh, and cruel, and the little kitten knew she had to be harsher to survive.

The siamese didn't dare move until Mad was fully backed away. The moment that dappled pelt left her vision, she slunk away, crooked tail twitching in anger. Pawsteps against stone, until she was far, far from the blood drops on the floor, from the menagerie of fizzling furballs, and from that innocent, cracked chrysalis.

'We'll meet again.'