As the Seer decried her dreams revenge out loud, Niana felt a wave of defeat wash over her. Her shoulders slumped. If she had cat ears they would have drooped. A fresh tide of tears came out and made their way down her already wet cheeks. Her family would never rest in peace it seemed. Their souls would be doomed to wander restlessly, justice eluding them. The feral girl wanted to storm out of the stupid human building and go running off into the wild, where she truly belonged; but for some reason she remained in front of the Seer who was doing some magic with a string. Not that Niana could understand any of it. She looked at the man next to the Seer. He smelled of herbs and spices. Some sort of shaman perhaps? It didn't matter. Niana grasped her knife around her neck with both hands and shut her eyes, trying to stem the tide of tears.