Princess Elizabeth Research Paper

The largest country in the content had a tradition. To show you were ready to command the household, you must show gentleness, tenderness, and care through raising a cat. You reared it while it was young, slowly feeding it milk. Than you help it grow.

You watch it till it dies of old age.

This has lead to the nickname of the royal family being Purrlers, a pun off the word ruler.

Princess Elizabeth sets her cat that she raised form the age of five in a small coffin in the royal family crypts. Her small frame sobbing as her best friend has died from simple old age, peacefully in his favorite resting place.

Her parents help her morn, the father have gone through the same thing around her age. Some go peacefully, some are much kinder to be put down.

Past the corpses of some guards and nobles.

No human he sees is alive.

He hunts birds in the meantime. Ravens and crows scavenge the dead. The cat, unmoving. unbreathing, without smell to alert the birds or foot falls. It hunts like it body tells it to. It leaps, claws out like countless daggers digging into the large crows flesh. The cats mouth bites on the neck. But that is where instincts stop. Its mother never taught it how to kill.

A strange new feeling. Like water running down its throat. A odd feeling of feeling something rush through the body. The cat does not panic, it is new, but not painful. The feeling rushes out. threads of awareness connecting to the dead. It ignores them as well. The cat bites the neck of the bird harshly, and feast.

Without rest. He hunts the empty fields. Without mercy he kills and consumes, littering the gardens and grand roads in the castle. Corpses of birds, squirrels, rats, other cats, small dogs. Anything his claws and teeth can end, the ground has a body of that animal.

The world grows cold, but he does not feel the bite of the wind.

The wind grows warm, and he sees a human for the first time, in what feels a very long