When the world was new, and Death was young, the sky was more empty than it is now. The First Tabaxi danced across the world.

She was fast, and she was joy made manifest. She was in love with the Sun and Moon, in love with life itself.

The First dread nought for she was swift, sure of foot and Death despite running day and night could not catch her.

Thus those first days passed until in time the First Tabaxi grew as round as a Full Moon, the Sun and Moon delighted that the First carried the fruit of that love, and yet still Death could not catch her.

Death grew frustrated and wrathful, angry, irate and fury. Still young and impulsive Death swore the First would pay homage to Death as all living things should.

As season moved from summer to autumn the first children of the First Tabaxi were born. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight and nine helpless, fat and joyful little Tabaxi.

Although she scarce thought it possible, the First Tabaxi’s heart ached with joy nine times over. One joy for each of her first children.

And the First Tabaxi was still swift, still sure of foot, still light on her feet, still faster than Death.

But the First’s young were not and now the First felt fear creep into her heart so full of joy none times over.

The First still ran, she still danced for the Sun and the Moon but the First no longer taunted Death. For there was a shadow across her heart.

Now she feared Death not for own sake, but for that of her terribly, terribly helpless young.

Death was wrathful, vengeful and so terribly, terribly fast. Death took the first, then the second and third in quick succession. One, two and three.

The First ran so, so far and so fast carrying her young as they were so slow.

Death was hungry and had a taste for the Firsts young now, taking the fourth, fifth and sixth while the First frantically searched somewhere to hide them. Four, Five and Six.

Death took seven and eight when the First left their hiding place. And then there was only the ninth left. Seven and Eight.

And only the ninth was left. The last of the First Tabaxi’s young.

The First Tabaxi ran so far, and ran so fast with her last that she outpaced the Sun and the Moon. The First outpaced Death carrying her ninth and final child fat, far away from everywhere until the First fell exhausted into dreamless slumber.

Death though, especially young Death as he was when the skies were empty could not tire.
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Death took the last while the First Tabaxi was sleeping.

When she woke to the fragile body of her final child her keening shook the pillars of the world. Holding the last in her hands the First cried out in grieving. Nine.

Although she scare thought it possible the First Tabaxi's heart broken nine times over. Her loss unbearable, nine times over.

Even Death so far, far away was shaken by depth of her pain. Nine times over.

Remember Death then was not yet what Death would become. Death was callow and inexperienced in such depth of loss and grief.

In horror at what he had done and the First grief which he could no longer beat the young Death struck a bargain with the First Tabaxi to return her young to her.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight and Nine lives returned to the First Tabaxi.

In return the First Tabxi surrendered her speed, her strength, gave Death her dancing, gifted Death with her laughter and her smile, and her joy. The beauty and the colours in her coat. The First Tabaxi lay her Pride at Deaths feet.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight and Nine.

Even now, we the children of the First Tabaxi’s children hold this bargain with Death.

And so the children of the First Tabaxi’s children run swift, sure of foot and we shall dread nought.

For Tabaxi die nine times, each time returning but with a part of them surrendered to Death until nine times over it's our time to run with the First