The point's blue eyes hazily struck open, blinking lazily to rid herself of the deep slumber she was enticed to enter one more time. No, she was a therapist; they were pretty important, right? The cat pushed herself to her short-legs, her lush and long tail swaying out behind her. Jamacia shook out her pretty fur, inhaling deeply of a new day. But that same scent drifted in to her nose. Eugh, blood. Herbs; she loved, they were so interesting!
Jamacia witholds a diamond collar around her ivory neck, a black leather studded with angled diamonds. No one knows how it came about. Or how she got it. The curved bodice of the short-legged she-cat pushed past Lostheart. Glancing over her shoulder, and a flick of her tail beneath his chin was the only greeting she granted him with.
Now to rid herself of that smell. Of course, Jamacia's lies and plans had made her believable with her insaneness. But even then, she was the more normal of the cats. Whenever doubted, Jamacia just does something remarkable in till the next time. Slipping out of the caverns and tunnels, the cat finally made it in to the open air.