Freedom was an odd notion, slow to realize and identify. The idea penetrated them like a morning fog, slow and gradual but thick and obscuring at its peak before being burnt away by the morning sun. For Fayre and Portia, it was both a blessing they didn't realize and a curse they didn't believe.
The dawn broke over the land gradually. The youngest felinekin watched as the reach of the sun extended inch by slow inch over the meadow, creeping ever closer both across the long wind-blown grasses and down the reaching boughs of the trees above.