BLOODMOON

The clearing was eerily silent, as if the forest itself held its breath in anticipation of the chaos to come. Bloodmoon stood tall at its center, her crimson scales glinting faintly under the pale sky. Her long, serpentine tail coiled lazily around her, the tip flicking now and then as if tasting the air. Her golden eyes glowed with a cold, calculating malice, the smile on her sharp, fanged maw one of pure satisfaction.

The winds carried faint scents of ash and smoke, a harbinger of the dragons she had summoned from the east and west. These mighty beasts, with their molten breath and talons that could rend stone, were en route to carry out her will. She had carefully chosen her targets: the fragile two-legged creatures whose clumsy deforestation had scarred the previous forest. They had no monsters here—no fire-breathing machines to rival the dragons. This time, their flimsy dens and weak flesh would offer no resistance.

But Bloodmoon's ambition didn't stop with the two-leggeds. No, her fiery wrath would also extend to the meddling cats of the forest if they dared to stand in her way. She wasn't above shedding feline blood to see her vision realized. She reveled in the thought, her laughter echoing like thunder through the clearing.

Her claws gouged deep marks into the earth as she threw her head back, her voice rising in a chilling proclamation. "Let them run, let them hide. The sky will burn, and their cries will be but whispers beneath the roar of dragons. This forest will be reborn, and I will be its queen."

Above, the pale sky seemed to dim, as though the very sun hesitated to shine too brightly on her deeds. The great protector Nyx, once a guardian of balance and harmony, had vanished from the horizon. Bloodmoon's heart swelled with triumph at the thought. Nyx's absence meant there was no celestial intervention, no guiding star to save the day. The cats of the forest were vulnerable, leaderless, and unprepared.

The edges of the clearing rustled faintly as birds took flight, sensing the impending doom. Bloodmoon's smile widened. The forest was already reacting to her dominance, as though bowing to its inevitable fate. She took a deep breath, savoring the mingling scents of fear, power, and the promise of destruction.

She glanced to the east, then to the west, where faint wisps of black smoke marred the sky. The dragons were close. Soon, the flames of vengeance would consume everything in their path.

SCENEBREAK

A small goat cautiously stepped across the grass, its wide, nervous eyes fixed on the enormous white dragon sprawled out on the ground, gnawing on a bone. The dragon didn't move a muscle, but its sharp eyes followed the goat, as if assessing whether the little creature was worth the effort. Its pristine white scales shimmered in the sunlight, and every subtle motion radiated power and dominance.

Suddenly, the goat began to tremble. In the blink of an eye, it shifted and transformed, no longer a small, harmless creature. Standing in its place was a massive puma, its red-spotted coat looking as though it had been splattered with blood. Its glowing yellow eyes burned with intensity as it lowered its head in a quick, respectful bow toward the dragon.

"Majesty," the puma said, its voice smooth and dangerous. "I bring reports."

The dragon slowly lifted its head, a strand of saliva glistening as it fell from the bone it had been chewing. It dropped the bone and stretched its massive wings, sending gusts of wind rippling through the grass. "Speak," it commanded, its deep, rumbling voice making the earth beneath them quiver.

The puma stepped closer but kept a cautious distance from the razor-sharp claws that could end it in a heartbeat. "The two-legs are increasing their patrols near the forest. They're preparing for something. And... there are rumors among the cats. They say someone is searching for Nyx."

The dragon's pupils narrowed into slits. "Nyx?" it echoed, its tone a blend of fury and unease. "That star has been gone for generations. No one can find it."

The puma lowered its head slightly, as though aware it was treading on dangerous ground. "And yet, Majesty, they believe. The cats' faith is strong, and it is growing."

The dragon growled deeply, the sound vibrating through the air and making the puma instinctively step back. "Let them believe," the dragon finally said, its voice low and dripping with disdain. "When the forests burn and the stars fade, they will see that their faith is as worthless as their lives."

The puma nodded quickly and backed away, leaving the dragon to refocus on the discarded bone. But the dragon's expression was no longer calm. The mention of Nyx had ignited a spark of unease behind its toothy, predatory grin.

"Prepare the armadas," she had commanded, and they were. The armies of dragons from the east and west would soon descend upon the land. Bloodmoon's heart raced with anticipation, for she knew the destruction they would bring would be like nothing the world had ever seen. Humans and cats alike would be nothing more than ash in the wind. The dragons would tear through their defenses, leaving no stone unturned, no forest untouched.

But as she moved deeper into the heart of the forest, a slight unease crept up her spine. She had felt it earlier—an odd, almost electric pull in the air—but dismissed it as nothing more than the natural hum of her power.

Then, just before she could vanish into the next clearing, something caught her attention. The faintest movement. The slight crackle of a twig underfoot.

Bloodmoon froze, her claws extending with a deadly grace. Her crimson eyes scanned the trees, narrowing as she sought the source of the disturbance. A flicker of movement—a shadow among shadows—was enough to make her stop. The faintest trace of a scent lingered in the air, but it was one she didn't recognize. There was something both familiar and strange about it.

Her lips curled into a knowing smile.

"The sun will be eclipsed nonetheless," a soft voice murmured from the depths of the forest. The words, though spoken barely above a whisper, felt like a thunderclap in the stillness.

Bloodmoon turned slowly, her eyes searching the shadows, and there, perched in the dim light, stood a figure. It was a cat—a creature she knew well from the stories, one whose reputation stretched across lands far and wide.

The cat was a striking mix of orange, black, and white, his fur a patchwork of colors as vivid as the very flames she intended to unleash. His eyes gleamed with a knowing spark, his tail curling in the air like a question mark.

"You," Bloodmoon said, her voice low and dangerous, "you think you can stop me?"

The cat didn't flinch, nor did he speak. He merely gave a faint nod, his gaze never leaving hers. It was as if he knew something she did not. As if he had already seen the future, and in that future, the burning world she sought to create was already slipping through her claws.

The two stood there in a tense silence, the air between them crackling with unspoken promises and unacknowledged threats. Bloodmoon took a step forward, her smile widening as she met his gaze.

"Oh, how amusing," she purred, "You think the sun will rise again after I eclipse it? How quaint."

The cat tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with a quiet understanding. "The sun will rise, yes," he said softly, "but it may not be the same sun you remember."

Before Bloodmoon could respond, the cat slipped back into the shadows, his form vanishing as silently as he had appeared. A lingering chill filled the air, and for the first time, Bloodmoon felt an unfamiliar sense of uncertainty.

But that feeling was fleeting. She had a plan. Her dragons were coming. Her army would be unstoppable. Nothing could stand in her way.

And yet... in the back of her mind, the words echoed: The sun will rise, but it may not be the same.

With a dismissive flick of her tail, she banished the thought and disappeared into the clearing. The dragons would come, and nothing—no cat, no creature, no force—would stand in her way.

At least, that's what she believed.