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domesticated cats live in westeren Africa, some owned by humans and other roam wherever they wish. out of no where a lab shows up, landing itself about a mile away from a local village. they stayed and left after a time being of six long years, leaving a dirty lab in their wake. the African people knew to stay away and ignore it, but curiosity killed the cat in this case scenario. they trekked through and licked the oozy fluids that were left shattered on the floor mysteriously, growing violently ill. most died, but not before making a cat pregnant. those who were pregnant didn't go ill, though; they had mutated young.

it was horror for the mothers and for the people. the kittens were spike covered and oddly colored in murky hues, against nature. the humans saw them as demons, either killing them or throwing them into a enclosure. some of the mother's didn't hate their offspring, though, instead they tried to protect them. these, the ones who were able to grow, were the ones who survived. but they couldn't stay hidden forever, right? when the people found out they put them in the enclosure, hoping that they would just die. instead, the Mutated thrived. they reproduced more and more, and soon there was a good hundred or so. the regular cats, labeled as the Locals, were neutral. some hated them and others found them fascinating, even falling in love and creating the Hybrids.

but then problems began to stir; a massive drought was upon the Mutated, along with a prey shortage. some died and other's turned to cannibalism, creating terror and chaos in the enclosure. some managed to escape, only to be shot down by the poachers. there are two sides; the Locals, who enjoy fresh water and plentiful food, or the Mutated, who are skin and bones with the threat of being eaten by their own race. but then there are the Hyrbids...hanging in the middle of being normal and an outcast, being forced to choose inside or out.

love,

staff of hollow promises