A pale form, long tail swaying languidly, peers up from the liquid bubbling before him; his whiskers wrinkling forward in distaste as pierced ears flick back in his displeasure.

"Since ya've been so kind as to interrupt my work, what is it that ya need from little ole' me, hmm? Ya've searched me out fer a reason, yes? No? Well, be that as it may, I believe I have a potion that's... right up yer alley."

The slim feline twitches his whiskers, black lips pulling back to show a wide grin full of fangs and ill intent. Sickly eyes gleaming in the flames with an expression akin a cat that's caught the canary. And the multitude of skulls upon the walls peer down with empty sockets.