"Tris," she replies, because it's simply what you do. Hecaterus tears his gaze away from the other cat and buries his face into her chest. The way he rumbles isn't quite a purr, but it's reassuring. He's part of her, but not identical. It seems to be her daemon's job to flow around her and fill the hollow places. He is strong where she isn't, steady when she sways.

"What is this place?"