The boss wasn't a cat.
When Sandrine found out, she sighed in relief. She hadn't noticed that she had been tense, until warmth came back to her hands and her body suddenly relaxed, to the point where she felt like melting.
At least, she relaxed as much as her battered burnt body could allow.
But all throughout the day, despite her precarious state, the smile never left her face.
Anyway, the boss wasn't a cat. It was a vulture.
Or it looked like one. It wasn't easy to tell, because the naked head was covered in black slime that dripped to the ground, the drops leaving transparent filaments connected to them as they fell. Its eyes were cloudy and unfocused, its beak opened as if panting, each breath making a raspy sound as bubbles popped out of its throat. More strange liquid came out of its beak and nostrils, thick and grainy, making people unsure if it was just Oblivion mist corruption or liquified putrefied flesh.
