Your lost. There is no other word for the sensation of having no possible remark of common sense nor familiar surroundings. Your muscles ripple, as you slink through the foliage. Your body is tense, as your tenebris pellum begins to bristle as the aroma of other felines enter your plansume nasale. Your body lowers in a submissive manner, as the aroma grows stronger by the second. You know there are many, you sense the immense amount of bodies within the upcoming clearing.