Chapter 21 — Winds of Betrayal

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Chapter 21
Winds of Betrayal

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♣

The afternoon light filtered long shadows among the bushes, staining the forest with a faded gold. The branches cracked under the paws of the two cats walking in parallel, their figures outlined by the reflections among leaves and brambles.

Lostface remained silent.

Longtail was a few steps ahead, with his tail low and eyes attentive, checking with each stride the scent marks along the border that separated ThunderClan from WindClan, and then, with the turn of their path, toward ShadowClan.

They had already passed by the territory bordering RiverClan, but they didn’t talk much there. The tension had been floating in the air even before they left, and now, far from the camp, it seemed like the right moment.

“Why did you bring me so far?” Lostface finally asked, without looking at him.

Longtail said nothing at first. He stopped to mark a bush with his scent, then turned to look at her, his expression neutral, as always.

“Because here no one will hear us.”

Lostface lowered her ears. Not out of fear, but discomfort.

“And what is there to say that can’t be heard?”

Longtail watched her for a moment. His gaze, which was usually cold and sharp, had something more… a shadow of doubt, or perhaps concern.

“You’ve been acting strange,” he said finally. “Thinking too much. And I want to know about what.”

Lostface turned toward a tree and pretended to inspect a root.

“You don’t have to protect me.”

“I’m not protecting you,” Longtail huffed. “I’m trying to understand you.”

She tensed.

“Since when do you care about understanding me?”

“Since I noticed that you look away when Cloudtail passes by,” he replied, direct.

The silence returned.

Only the whisper of the wind through the pines, and the distant caw of a crow flying over the branches.

Lostface dug her claws into the ground.

“It’s not important.”

“It is to me,” Longtail replied without raising his voice. “If someone starts playing with you… I want to know.”

Lostface turned her face. Only the visible half showed her hardened expression.

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not.”

Longtail took a few more steps, then stopped in front of her. Not in a challenging stance, but firm. Like a warrior who knew when to be still was more powerful than moving.

“Cloudtail doesn’t know what he wants,” he said. “He looks at Mistyfoot as if she were a story he wants to live, and at you as the memory he doesn’t dare to let go.”

“And how do you know all that?” Lostface asked, almost in a whisper.

“Because I watch you. And because I’m not an idiot.”

She swallowed hard. The air weighed heavily on her lungs.

“He… used to talk to me more.”

“And then you started looking away when he went with her,” Longtail added.

Lostface lowered her gaze.

“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted. “I just… don’t want to be alone.”

There was a long silence. Longtail took a step closer. His shadow covered part of her face.

“You’re not alone,” he said softly, something unusual for him.

Lostface looked up. The scar that crossed her face seemed more faded at that moment, as if the shadow of doubt covered her more than any physical damage.

“And you… would you be willing to stay close?”

Longtail paused. Then his tail curled slightly around hers. Not as a romantic gesture, but firm. Secure. Present.

Longtail stopped at the edge of the clearing. The evening breeze began to carry the scent of the forest, bringing with it the distant murmur of the river water. His slit eyes were fixed on the horizon, where the boundaries between clans blurred with the last lights of the day.

Lostface approached with cautious steps, not knowing if she should speak or wait. The previous conversation still throbbed inside her, like a wound that doesn’t bleed, but still hurts.

“The Clan is… broken,” Longtail murmured, almost to himself. “Have you noticed?”

Lostface blinked, tilting her head slightly.

“Broken?”

Longtail lowered his gaze to the ground. He scratched the damp earth with a claw, with slow movements, as if searching for words in the soil.

“Bluestar brings a cat from another Clan and everyone accepts it without questioning. Fireheart acts as if he were the one making the decisions. Cinderpelt is keeping secrets. Cloudtail… Cloudtail comes and goes as if the warrior code were a joke.”

Lostface didn’t know what to say. It hurt her that Cloudtail was part of the list, although something inside her accepted it.

“And what do you propose?” she finally asked, in a low voice.

Longtail turned toward her. His expression was more serious than usual. More intense.

“Change things. Now.”

Lostface took a step back, surprised by the tone of his voice.

“How?”

“With a truth. One that the Clan already suspects… but needs to hear,” Longtail approached, until his whiskers brushed hers. “Mistyfoot. In our camp. Protected. Fed. Visited in secret. Do you know what would happen if RiverClan found out?”

Lostface swallowed hard. A shiver ran down her spine.

“Do you want them to find out?”

“I want you to tell them,” Longtail held her gaze without blinking. “A quick visit. A clear message. It doesn’t have to be official. Just plant the doubt.”

She looked at him intently. The wind had stopped. Everything seemed to hold its breath.

“Why me?”

Longtail tilted his head. His voice softened slightly.

“Because you don’t draw attention. Because they won’t suspect you. And because I trust that you know when to act for the good of the Clan.”

Lostface stood still. Her fur bristled slightly with tension.

“That could cause a fight,” she whispered.

“Or it could prevent a bigger war,” Longtail replied firmly. “If RiverClan claims Mistyfoot, Bluestar will be forced to hand her over. And then everything will return to order.”

“Order…?” Lostface repeated, almost in an echo.

“Yes. The Clan needs leaders who think about the Clan. Not about their heart. Not about their secret loves.”

Lostface lowered her gaze. Her own scar seemed to burn under his words.

“And if I’m discovered?”

“They won’t,” he assured. “Just say you heard it somewhere. Or that you saw Mistyfoot injured near the river. Nothing direct. Just plant the unease.”

The silence fell again.

Longtail’s eyes were like ice: not cruel, but firm. It wasn’t about revenge. It wasn’t about jealousy. It was… structure. Control.

And part of her understood.

Perhaps… too well.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Longtail nodded, showing no triumph, only certainty.

“Go tomorrow at dawn. Just before the patrol change. Don’t get too close. Just look for someone… and let it slip as if it were a rumor. Then come back. I’ll cover for you if they ask.”

Longtail’s purr was soft, almost imperceptible. It didn’t have the playful warmth of Cloudtail or the youthful energy of the apprentices. It was a contained, measured sound… but sincere. Lostface listened to it as if it were an echo inside her chest.

Before she could react, he lowered his head and brushed her forehead with his nose. The kiss was brief, but it left her frozen. Her paws seemed to dig into the damp earth and her ears rose with a start she couldn’t hide. She blinked, confused, as the heat rose to the tips of her ears.

Longtail smiled at her.

Not a mocking smile, nor a victorious one.

A friendly smile. Almost tender.

“This will be a new beginning,” he said in a low voice. “For everyone. For the Clan. For us.”

Lostface looked at him. The wind slipped through the branches, and for a moment, just for that instant, she believed in his words. A new beginning. Something to replace the uncomfortable silence. The evasive glances. The shadow of what was Cloudtail.

“Our… Clan,” Longtail repeated firmly, as if he wanted those words to take root in her. “Make sure to hunt something on the way back. So no one suspects. I’ll take care of the preparations.”

She nodded. Still with the blush on her face, still with the tremor in her paws. But with determination.

Longtail gave her a final look, and then disappeared among the ferns, leaving only the trail of his scent and the feeling that something was already in motion, even if it wasn’t visible yet.

After a while, Lostface found herself walking at a controlled pace.

She didn’t want to seem anxious. She shouldn’t seem so.

The forest was silent, and fortunately, there was no sign of other patrols. She had left earlier with Longtail saying they would mark the border, and it wouldn’t be unusual for her to return alone with prey in her muzzle. As she advanced, her eyes scanned every movement in the undergrowth, every small crack under her paws.

Finally, she saw a trail of mouse scent among some moss-covered roots. She crouched. Her breathing slowed, her muscles tensed. The concentration pushed her thoughts aside for a moment.

A precise leap. A quick bite.

And the prey now hung from her muzzle.

Perfect.

She continued on her way back, although her mind hadn’t calmed down. She repeated Longtail’s words in her head, trying to imagine the scene. Mistyfoot, discovered. RiverClan demanding answers. Bluestar, forced to act.

Was that justice?

Or revenge from a wounded Clan?

She gritted her teeth. No. It was order.

And maybe… a way to find her place too.

And from the slope of the stream, Longtail watched. The shadows of the trees stretched with the decline of the sun, and he already moved among them like an expert. He had spoken with Dustpelt, exchanged words with Darkstripe, confirmed the patrol routes for the next day.

Everything was moving forward. Silent. Impeccable.

Mistyfoot had no idea.

And Bluestar… well, Bluestar couldn’t protect the indefensible forever.

He looked up at the sky. The stars weren’t shining yet, but they would soon. What would StarClan say? Would they support him? Or would they punish him?

He shook his head. StarClan guided the brave. Those who didn’t stay silent.

Not those who cowered before the truth.

***

The sun descended slowly, gilding the treetops with a warmth that didn’t reach the forest’s shadow. Cloudtail advanced along a path of soft earth, a small squirrel hanging from his muzzle. His white fur captured the last rays of light, but his mind was elsewhere.

The whole day had passed without alarms. Without confrontations. Without uncomfortable words. And yet, his stomach seemed tied in knots.

When he skirted the stream that ran near the border with RiverClan, something stopped him in his tracks. A silhouette.

Light blue ears, barely visible among the bushes growing at the water’s edge.

He recognized her instantly. Mistyfoot.

Cloudtail left the squirrel under a bush and approached carefully, moving without making noise. His heart beat a little faster, and he didn’t know if it was from the startle or from seeing her again, so close, so out of place.

Mistyfoot hadn’t noticed him. She was crouched, her body low, her eyes fixed on the other side of the clearing, where the voices filtered through clearly.

Cloudtail tilted his head and, with a mix of surprise and curiosity, also pricked up his ears.

“I told you that’s not how it’s done,” Sandstorm’s voice huffed, with that dry and authoritative tone so characteristic of her.

“I’m trying to learn,” Brackenfur replied, with his usual calm. The sound of water splashing was heard when one of them put a paw in the stream.

Cloudtail blinked. Brackenfur and Sandstorm? Together? Fishing?

“And why would you want to know how to fish if you’re not from RiverClan?” she insisted, her voice laden with skepticism.

“Because Mistyfoot tried it,” he said without beating around the bush. “And it got me thinking. There are skills worth learning, even if they don’t belong to your Clan.”

Cloudtail felt his fur bristle. A pang of jealousy, unexpected and annoying, ran through his chest. He glanced sideways at Mistyfoot. She didn’t move, but her ears trembled slightly. She was listening. Very attentive.

“So all this is because of her?” Sandstorm’s voice had an edge.

“Not everything,” he replied. “But I find it admirable that, with an injured paw, she tried to do it on her own. She’s a brave warrior.”

There was a silence.

Cloudtail couldn’t see them well, but he imagined the gestures. Sandstorm’s narrowed eyes. Brackenfur’s calm face. The water splashing softly.

“Brave,” Sandstorm repeated, without emotion.

“Yes,” Brackenfur affirmed.

Cloudtail looked at Mistyfoot again. Her tail trembled, as if she didn’t know whether to hide more… or come out to confront them.

And then, without thinking, Cloudtail stepped forward and whispered:

“What are you doing here?”

Mistyfoot startled. She turned her head abruptly and saw him. Her eyes widened for an instant, then she narrowed them.

“Did you follow me?”

“No. I was returning to the camp,” he growled in a low voice. “But you are clearly out of where you should be.”

Mistyfoot clicked her tongue, without moving from her hiding place.

“I was just listening.”

“And why?”

“Why?”

She hesitated.

“I wanted to know if they were… mentioning me.”

Cloudtail frowned.

“And does that matter?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Because if Brackenfur really thinks that of me, then I wasn’t a burden.”

Cloudtail lowered his gaze. He understood her. Too well, perhaps.

“You’re not a burden,” he told her. “But you should be more careful.”

She turned, facing him fully. Their noses were almost touching.

“Why? Are you afraid I’ll say something about us?”

Cloudtail felt the question pierce through him. He stayed silent for a moment.

“I’m afraid something might happen to you,” he murmured finally. “That someone from RiverClan sees you here. That trouble arises.”

Mistyfoot seemed to relax, just a little. But her eyes still shone with something hard to decipher.

“And you?” she asked. “What would you do if Brackenfur becomes interested in me?”

Cloudtail looked at her intently.

“Are you interested in him being interested?”

She swallowed hard but didn’t answer.

The sound of a paw splashing filled the silence again. Sandstorm and Brackenfur were already moving away, their voices fading among the trees. They were no longer talking about her.

Cloudtail sighed.

“Let’s go. Before someone sees us here together.”

Mistyfoot couldn’t take her eyes off. Her gaze remained fixed on Brackenfur, even as he disappeared among the trees alongside Sandstorm. Her golden fur still shone under the last rays of the sun, and Brackenfur… Brackenfur laughed. As if nothing weighed on him. As if the entire Clan wasn’t entangled in a web of secrets.

Mistyfoot’s stomach churned.

It wasn’t anger.

It was jealousy. Jealousy that burned like thorns under her skin.

Why did it hurt?

“You’re going to start a fight if you keep looking like that,” growled a voice beside her.

Cloudtail.

He approached with a firm step and, without asking for permission, licked her cheek with a dry but intentional gesture. Mistyfoot shivered. Her gaze finally broke, turning toward him.

“Besides…” added Cloudtail in a slightly lower, rougher voice. “It’s not like you like Brackenfur… right?”

Mistyfoot blinked. Her body reacted before her words did, straightening as if she had been touched by an invisible claw.

“Of course not!” she exclaimed, too quickly.

The blush on her cheeks was immediate, and although she tried to cover her face by turning her head, Cloudtail noticed. Of course, he noticed. And that was enough to make his whiskers rise, amused.

“Hmmm…” he purred. “So it’s just… silent admiration? Or fraternal concern…”

Mistyfoot gave him a light swipe on the paw, without force, without real intention to hurt.

“Shut up!”

Cloudtail laughed softly. He liked it when she got uncomfortable. Not out of cruelty… but because that slight tremor in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes, confirmed to him that he also mattered to her. That he wasn’t just an injured cat in a foreign den.

He sat in front of her, and without saying more, buried his head against her chest.

Mistyfoot remained still.

Cloudtail’s muzzle rested against her fur, right where her heart beat fast. His breath warmed her skin. And that contact… that simple, non-violent, non-demanding gesture… was more effective than any words.

“I like you, Mistyfoot,” he murmured, without moving.

She didn’t know what to say.

Her first reaction was fear.

Then, discomfort.

But now… she felt it like a soft knot unraveling in her chest.

“Why… do you do this?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Cloudtail lifted his head slightly, looking into her eyes.

“Because I like you,” he repeated calmly. “And I’m not ashamed to show it.”

She lowered her gaze, her breathing quickening. She was confused. Her whole world was unraveling at once: her mother, her identity, her loyalty… and now him. This ThunderClan warrior, insistent, sometimes clumsy, but… genuine.

“I don’t want to be like Bluestar,” she whispered, almost without realizing it. “I don’t want to repeat her mistakes.”

“Do you think that liking you is a mistake?” Cloudtail asked, frowning.

She quickly shook her head.

“No… but… this shouldn’t be happening.”

“So it shouldn’t be happening… that I want to see you well? That I care about you?” His eyes were firm, but not hard. “That it hurts me to see you jealous of a cat who doesn’t deserve you?”

Mistyfoot raised her ears, surprised.

“Brackenfur doesn’t deserve me?”

“Brackenfur is kind, and he knows how to heal wounds,” Cloudtail admitted. “But I’m the idiot who sneaks into the medicine cat’s den just to smell if you’re okay. The one who fishes in secret for you. The one who risks being kicked out of the Clan if I hug you.”

Mistyfoot felt a lump in her throat.

And without thinking, she leaned against him.

Cloudtail didn’t move; he held her. With his body, with his warmth, with his agitated breath. Then, with a purr, he slid his head along her neck, kissing her exposed skin, right where her heartbeat raced.

“I want you to know that I’m here,” he murmured. “Not for play. Not because you’re injured. I’m here… because I couldn’t stop being here.”

Mistyfoot’s heart pounded hard, trapped in that space between Cloudtail’s chest and the memory of Brackenfur. She still felt the warmth of the white warrior on her, his words resonating in her head. His closeness was comforting… but she couldn’t help looking toward where Brackenfur had been minutes before. That image, of him laughing with Sandstorm, tightened her stomach.

Why did it hurt?

Cloudtail, without moving, watched her in silence. He knew something was wrong. He could feel the stiffness in her body, the tension under her fur, the silence that said more than any words.

“Do you miss your Clan?” he asked suddenly, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Mistyfoot closed her eyes, swallowing hard. The question hit her harder than she expected.

“A little,” she confessed.

“What do you miss the most?”

The question was simple. But the answer… the answer made her squeeze her eyes shut for a moment before saying it.

“My brother.”

Cloudtail lowered his gaze. He understood. He himself had felt the absence of important figures in his life. And knowing that Stonefur must be wondering where his sister was… made him feel uncomfortable.

He couldn’t allow that to continue.

Not if he could do something about it.

“I have an idea,” he said then, tilting his head and lifting a paw to gently caress her chest. “Something that could give you… at least a little relief.”

Mistyfoot blinked, blinking.

“What kind of idea?”

Cloudtail’s reply came not in words, he brushed his muzzle against hers, licking it affectionately. It wasn’t a passionate or impulsive gesture. It was tender. Careful. As if each movement was measuring whether she accepted it.

“Only if you want, of course,” he added, looking into her eyes.

Mistyfoot felt a knot in her stomach. The heat rose to her cheeks, to her neck. She looked at him intently, not knowing whether to smile or cry. Because at that moment, only that impossible mix between pain and comfort, desire and melancholy, existed.

“What idea is it?” she repeated softly.

Cloudtail leaned back a little, as if measuring her reaction before continuing.

“I can take you to see him. Stonefur.”

Mistyfoot blinked, surprised. For a moment, she thought she had heard wrong.

“What…?”

“I know where he usually patrols. I know he goes near the borders close to ThunderClan. I can take you. Just for a moment. You won’t be crossing… you’ll just be seeing him. From the edge.”

Mistyfoot opened her muzzle but said nothing.

“No one has to know,” he added. “Cinderpelt is busy. Bluestar too. And if we do it carefully… no Clan has to find out.”

Mistyfoot looked at him, bewildered.

Her heart beat even harder. See Stonefur? After so many dawns?

The idea was dangerous. Reckless.

But…

Her gaze softened. She lowered her head and rested her muzzle against Cloudtail’s chest. The warmth surrounded her again. It wasn’t the warmth of her Clan… but it felt very close.

“Why do you do all this for me?” she whispered.

Cloudtail took a few seconds to respond. He licked gently between her ears before speaking.

“Because I care about you. Because when I look at you, I feel like I have something worth protecting. And because if you suffer… I suffer too.”

The words drew a trembling sigh from her. Mistyfoot closed her eyes tightly, wanting to preserve that moment as a refuge. As a hideout where neither RiverClan, nor ThunderClan, nor the weight of being Bluestar’s daughter could reach her.

“I just want to see him,” she said finally. “Even if it’s just once.”

Cloudtail nodded.

“Then I’ll give you that.”

Cloudtail gently brushed his tail against Mistyfoot’s as they walked. It wasn’t an impulsive or playful gesture. It was slow, like someone testing unknown but desired terrain. She didn’t respond to the contact immediately. She felt every fiber of her fur bristle with that simple caress, that touch that anchored her back to reality.

Mistyfoot lowered her gaze to the ground covered in damp leaves. The trees of ThunderClan’s forest surrounded her, tall and silent. But her mind was elsewhere.

Why did she feel this way?

Why did her heart beat like this?

Cloudtail wasn’t a cat from her Clan. He wasn’t someone she could dream of having something lasting with. He wasn’t the kind of bond one should cultivate if they wanted to remain loyal to their Clan, their family, the code.

It was the same mistake her mother made.

The same mistake that had torn Bluestar apart inside.

The same mistake that had taken Silverstream too soon.

“Are you okay?” Cloudtail’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

She nodded almost imperceptibly. But she didn’t say anything. The silence weighed between them.

Cloudtail didn’t press her. Instead, he moved a little closer, tilting his head as if trying to catch her gaze without invading it. Their tails remained joined, albeit loosely. Mistyfoot couldn’t think of moving away… but she also didn’t know how to truly respond.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” he added, his voice calm.

Mistyfoot stopped.

She looked at the sky. Among the branches, the clouds dragged slowly, tinged with purple. The breeze ruffled her fur.

“You…,” she murmured suddenly. “You don’t understand how complicated this is.”

Cloudtail didn’t respond. He just watched her, attentive.

She sighed.

“My mother… made the same mistake. She fell in love with someone from another Clan. She hid it. She paid with her soul.” Her voice trembled, but not from the cold. “And then… Silverstream. She also… and it cost her her life.”

Cloudtail lowered his ears, feeling how those words pierced something in his chest.

“And you think I want to repeat that?” she asked, looking at him sideways, her voice rising slightly.

He shook his head.

“No. I would never think that of you.”

“So… why?” Her voice was now barely a whisper. “Why do you kiss me? Why do you make this harder for me?”

The silence that followed was thick, tense, loaded with something neither of them knew how to name.

But then, without haste, Cloudtail stepped forward. He positioned himself in front of her and looked at her with an unusual seriousness.

“Because you make me feel… that all of that is worth it,” he told her. “And if it’s a mistake, then let it be for the right reasons.”

Mistyfoot trembled. She didn’t know if it was from the cold or from his words.

The white warrior moved a little closer. Not suddenly. Not with hunger or urgency. Just enough for their noses to brush. His breath mingled with hers.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me,” he whispered.

She said nothing. She closed her eyes.

And then, she felt Cloudtail’s lips on hers. Soft. Warm. It wasn’t a snatched kiss. It was a kiss of calm, of understanding. Of those that don’t seek to burn, but to shelter.

Their hearts beat strongly. Maybe too strongly.

Mistyfoot opened her eyes just as he pulled away slightly, looking at her.

“I don’t want you to suffer,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this.”

She swallowed hard. She could still feel the kiss burning on her muzzle, but not from shame. It was something else.

It was relief.

“I don’t know where this leads,” she murmured. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You don’t have to be ready now,” he replied.

They stayed like that, a few seconds more, breathing the same air. The last rays of the day filtered through the branches, gilding their faces.

Finally, Mistyfoot leaned in and rested her forehead against Cloudtail’s.

And in that silent contact, without words, she allowed herself something she hadn’t allowed herself since she woke up injured in that foreign Clan.

Hope.

Cloudtail purred, his chest vibrating softly against Mistyfoot’s as the last lights of dusk painted their silhouettes among the bushes. It was one of those moments where the world became small, limited to the sound of the wind through the leaves and the warmth of the one you had close.

He slid his muzzle along her side, tenderly caressing her fur still damp from the river breeze. Mistyfoot closed her eyes for a few seconds, letting her breath sync with his. She didn’t say anything, but her body, relaxed and still, responded.

Cloudtail lowered his gaze to Mistyfoot’s injured paw. It was still swollen, though much less than days before. He knew she had improved, but also that she needed to keep resting. After all, she had walked more than she should have that day.

With a soft purr and a barely contained smile, he kissed the tip of her paw gently, letting his warm breath surround it.

“Do you know what I think?” he whispered between caresses. “That you should go rest now.”

Mistyfoot looked at him, her breath still somewhat ragged from the shared moment. Her heart continued to beat strongly, as if she still couldn’t believe she was there, with him. With a cat from another Clan. And that she didn’t feel bad about it.

“Really?” she responded, her voice softer than she intended.

Cloudtail nodded, resting his forehead against hers.

“That paw of yours is still valuable to many. You can’t afford to wear it out now.” He smiled mischievously. “And besides… I like having an excuse to stay with you while you ‘rest’.”

Mistyfoot let out a soft laugh that came out more sincere than she expected. It was a small, brief laugh, but real. She hadn’t had many of those lately.

“So you’re one of those who take advantage of the injured?”

“Only if you want me to take advantage… of course,” he replied, without hesitation.

Mistyfoot lowered her gaze, feeling the heat rise to her neck. Cloudtail, noticing that blush on her cheeks, licked her head tenderly, then stepped back and stretched his body.

“Let’s go,” he said calmly. “I’ll take you to a fox den where we can be… alone. We can keep talking there. Or sleep. Whatever you want.”

Mistyfoot nodded slowly.

“StarClan… might get angry.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, kissing her forehead affectionately. “Just… try not to make too much noise.”

“C-Cloudtail…”

But his face remained very close to hers.

Unable to help it, she gave him a silent kiss when he brought his muzzle close.

Cloudtail purred.

He… already had her under his control.