Cat God Amphibia -

The Amphiwood had a wound: a deep, sulfurous sinkhole called the Gullet, where the old serpent god, Sszeth, had been buried alive by the first lizards. Every night, Sszeth’s hunger seeped up in black bubbles, turning the water to vinegar and the tadpoles to glass. For three hundred years, the frogs, newts, and mud-skimmers had offered sacrifices—bloodworms, stolen eggs, even their own half-grown—to keep the Gullet sleepy.

That was the first miracle. The second came at moonrise.

Mewra sat down. She began to groom her shoulder. Then, without hurry, she coughed up a hairball. cat god amphibia

Glot, still dripping, crawled to Mewra’s paws. “What are you?” he whispered.

In the rain-slicked swamps of the Amphiwood, where the mangroves grew teeth and the mist remembered, there was no god above the peat line. Until there was. The Amphiwood had a wound: a deep, sulfurous

And if you’re lucky, she might not cough on you.

“Nap time,” said Mewra.

They say if you walk the Amphiwood at twilight, when the frogs sing their lowest note, you can still see her—a ginger blur at the edge of your vision, judging you, waiting for you to drop that fish.