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there was a foggy chill to the air, the kind that came every wet season, weaving it's way through the sedgy boulders which comprised the kopje her tribe lived on. it was growing dark, the distant whoops of hyenas carried on the musty breeze, as teller of pointed stones crouched in the grass, her belly low to the ground and her gaze fixed firmly on an agama resting underneath a sapling. the shecat sprung, catching the vibrant reptile in one clean bite. the thin molly gave a mrowl as she settled to eat, her tall ears airplaning sideways against the soon-to-come storms. as she rose from her spot and turned, stoneteller gave a low hiss as bracing water clattered onto her head, soaking the shortfurred cat to the skin. with a rough snarl she retreated, scrambling into the rocks and rough vegetation of her tribe's kopje camp. the storm looked like it'd be a vicious one- not uncommon during the wet season. shaking the droplets of rain from her fur, she released the lizard's carcass, dropping it into the stack of manifold prey items.