The kitchen was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire and the rhythmic scrape-scrape-scrape of Kael's finger against the bottom of his clay bowl. He had finished the soup minutes ago, but he was currently trying to get the glaze off the pottery to get the last molecule of flavor.
Ren stood next to Syris, watching the tiger.
"Feral Madness," Ren prompted again, nudging Syris with her elbow.
Syris sighed, looking down at his empty bowl with a mournful expression. He looked like a man who had just finished a fine meal and was now being asked to do his taxes.
"It is... unpleasant," Syris began, his voice low. "It is a mystery to our kind. No one knows why it happens. Some say it is a curse from the Moon Goddess. Others say it is just bad luck."
He glanced at Kael, his amethyst eyes narrowing.
