The Hall Of Ancestry, Stonestream knows everything

[Nightsong]

The blueish gray fox trotted along one of the furless ones' paths, stopping at a well-used den for the odd creatures. "It is the Orange Season now, the Furless will not be back 'til Green." she said thoughtfully to herself in her own language of yips and soft barks, not loud ones like Dog and Wolf's speak used. Carefully sniffing around, Stonestream found a smaller furless den that she knew was used for storage, turning around she quite forcefully kicked the entrance blocker open with powerful hindlegs.

As the sun set, Basilia was now safely tucked away inside the open storage den, happily finishing her meal of a still Green-plump piece of prey. The sky grew darker yet, and the she-fox setteled herself herself into a comfortable position for the night, but what awaited her was not a deep slumber.

[Nightsong]

Basilia slowly opened her eyes to find herself in a cave. The ground was nothing but sand and rock, and the moonlight from a midnight sky overhead lit the ground through an extremely large shaft in the ceiling, so large there wasn't exactly a ceiling there. There were many, many separate tunnels along the walls, some small and some large, some were off the ground so that she'd have to jump to reach them. One tunnel in particular caught her eye, a beam of starlight screened through the darkness that swelled through it. The gray she-fox carefully picked her way across the pointed rocks to the starlit tunnel, but as she got closer a scent caught her nose. Blood. she thought, and turned to run full speed through the darkening tunnel, the starlight was fading.

As Basilia reached the end of the tunnel, she found the walls were covered in blood, all oozing their way down the rocky slopes to a large puddle of the sticky, crimson life substance in the center of the new cavern. She sniffed suspiciously at the growing pond of blood, and as she did so an image started to appear in it's depths. That of a young, white cat, dying of severe wounds on several parts of her lithe body, you could really barely tell she was white at all, her fur and the grass around her was being dyed red by her massive blood loss. "The fangs of those once hidden have shown themselves," Basilia muttered in her growling catspeak, "How many will die before the bones are buried?"