You are born in the meadow, beneath Her endless gaze.

The barn is your shelter. The Meadow is your home. The forest...the forest is nothing. Her Light cannot touch it, and neither should you.

You have no name. None of us do. Names do not matter. Only She matters. Only Her Light.

The Suncat is Her chosen body, the vessel that carries Her radiance. But no cat is strong enough to hold a god for long. Their body fails. Their breath stills. And on the day of Suneve, She will leave them behind and seek another. We do not mourn. We rejoice. The cycle continues, and She remains.

The queens pray for their kits to be born on Suneve. They seek mates with sunfur; golden, bright, touched by Her light, hoping their bloodline will bring forth the next Suncat. But She chooses as She wills. Not all sunfurred kittens survive long enough to carry Her. Some are born wrong. Some are simply overlooked. And some; males, pale furred, weak bodied, burn out even faster than the rest.

Beside the Suncat stands the Guard. Their duty is to protect the vessel, to serve Her, to ensure nothing threatens the god within. They are taught to trust no one. Not the colony. Not their kin. Not even the Suncat. Because everyone else is untrustworthy. Everyone else will break. Snap. Fail. And when they do, the Guard must be ready.

You will live. You will serve. You will bask in Her warmth until She no longer allows it.

Welcome to the meadow. May Her light keep you.