Aurora’s paws felt soft against the hard stone floor. She was running, nose down to the ground. With the moon shining above, she leaped over a wall here, climbed onto a parapet there. It felt strange, but at the same time, it felt familiar.
Sometimes the moon disappeared behind one of the tallest buildings, or was obscured by one of the many bridges that connected them, but the darkness did not take away from her momentum. She felt the space around her, in front of her, and kept running. Is it still called “running” when you do it with four legs?
She… She remembered having two legs. This did not look … It felt… weird? But at the same time, it was her… She was herself… It was right!
Aurora blinked. The priestess came to her senses in an alley, face to face with a black cat. The cat stared at her with one bright amber eye: the other one was closed, covered with a scar. In the dark night, the quasi-golden eye shone brightly.
“Meoooooow.” Said the cat, before disappearing between buildings.
Aurora blinked again, and looked at her hands. They were dirty, but they were hands, not paws. Her knees were sore, and the faint moonlight did not let her look, but she imagined her nightgown was ragged.
Why was she here? She could not remember anything after having lied down at sunset…
She noticed then that in front of her stood an unusual building. Most of Jahaara’s buildings were cubic and rectangular, always with terraces instead of roofs, so that their occupants could lie outside, soaking up the sun and moonlight. These buildings were relatively squat, never more than three stories high. But the one towering in front of her was formed by three twin towers, each one higher and thinner than the last, each crowned with a round dome.
The priestess felt a shiver, and folded her arms across her chest.