Lair: Kitten's Hunting Domain

Deep in the heart of the castle, in the kitchen near the hearth, the fearsome creature had claimed for himself a fine lair in a covered basket with a plush, velvet cushion. The vicious monster -- a raging storm of needle milk-teeth, razor claws, and inky fur -- was the unquestioned master of his domain.

Now, he slunk across the butcher's counter and behind the scales the baker used to measure flour. His eye had been caught by a twitch deep in a concealing shadow. Silent, with all the practice of ancient forebears, he crouched to watch the dark opening in the backsplash behind the sink.

Moments later, his patience was rewarded when a small, horned head stuck itself out of the hole, followed by eight articulated, clawed legs and a long, reptilian tail.

Delight and fortune, it was one of the mutated aberrations from the Great Rift! The beast's tongue flicked at his whiskers in anticipation. Conical ears twitched in the shadows as the prey's armored carapace scraped against the countertop. Exquisite was the monster's silence as he observed the mindless prey, waiting for it to fully emerge into the open space.

The carapace lizard let out a deafening scream as the hunter pounced upon it, snapping its spine with a grotesque, squishing crack. With nimble grace, the monster lept back before the lizard's venom could release from the blisters on its carapace, petrifying a more unwise predator.

How the beast delighted in the otherworldly flavor of the sweet lizard meat. It was even better than the winged rat that he'd found drowned in his milk that morning with breakfast! Sated, breath heavy with contented purrs, the fierce little kitten disappeared once more into the secret depths of his comfy, covered basket with his plush, velvet cushion.