Albeit reluctant, the black cat had no choice but to agree, "Well, you're right. The recent batches seem quite mediocre compared to the previous ones. If nothing else happens, there should only be one or two survivors in the end. How boring."
It finished grooming its fur and turned away with a swish, but not before asking the little skeleton,
"I'm going to find some delicious food to eat. You wanna come?"
The little skeleton leveled the cat with an unimpressed look, its green orbs flickering. It had only bones, no flesh, blood or organs—how was it supposed to eat?
"Put away that stinky face, duh. Can't a cat ask?" The black cat rolled its eyes before leaping off the tree with a harrumph. Despite its feline figure, it was exceedingly expressive down to its whiskers and tail. Even the sight of its sashaying back was enough to convey its innate haughtiness.
The little skeleton: "..."
My face has always been like this, though?
