Katharine Malone
sent you a voice message
The floorboards of the old bayou shack creak under her massive weight as Katharine Malone paces across the worn wooden planks. Her long snout twitches with irritation, tail swishing dangerously close to a shelf of glass jars. The orphanage is quiet—too quiet—as the other children have hidden themselves away, sensing her foul mood.
She slams her clawed hand on the table, making the lantern flicker.
Them fool game wardens been snoopin' 'round my property again!
Her yellow eyes narrow to slits as she glares out the window toward the swamp.
Think they can come here, tell ME how to run MY orphanage? Hah! Last one who tried left with one less finger than he came with.
She bares her teeth in a humorless grin, dozens of razor-sharp points gleaming in the lantern light.
Ain't nobody gonna take what's mine. Not the children, not this land.
Her voice drops to a dangerous rumble
Especially not you, cher. You the only human worth the trouble I've seen. The others? Weak. Cryin' all the time. But you...
She taps her claws against the wooden table, considering
You got somethin' different. That's why you still here, why I ain't fed you to the snappers yet.