Toothless bites, mouthless mutters, wingless fluttters

It had its path before it, and it could feel the soul calling, calling to be drawn to Mort's realm, to rest everlasting. And oh but it wanted it. Mrowing and trilling in its excitement, the tiny cat with the white star on its chest was utterly foreign to the writhing shadows that seeped into the woods all around, and it glanced only briefly to Delphia as she appeared in its periphery. But she held something brightly similar, and as the pale woman moved to snatch its prize, it made a concentrated pounce at Maea's feet, that it might stop her from taking the soul. Naughty mortal! Souls were not for it to play with!