I was born without this fear
It had taken him a few days to regain his bravery after he’d so nearly become a midday snack for the wolves. The wolf-man had saved him, but he’s still not entirely certain her trusts him. He is so stern and angry sometimes, with no room for fun. Pyxis at least is comfortable and safe. Not mommy, that’s for sure. But she kinda reminds him of her sometimes, and he supposes that’s ok.
He’d gotten smarter too though, his trial by wolf teaching him patience. And so he had waited, biding his time.
Until the red woman had gone into labor. He’d been terribly confused, at first. It seems the process is very different from the outside than it is from the inside, so it had taken him a little bit to realize that the babe that had been growing in auntie Pyxis’ belly is about to be born. It had not taken long for the cunning of the predator within him to assert itself, recognizing his golden opportunity at last.
He could go find mommy. Make sure she is safe and protected. He wants momma safe so much.
This time he is much more clever about it. This time, he waits until they are both distracted by the baby’s birth. This time, he waits until he is well away, out of sight and scent of the wolves before her shifts into the feline form that he has so quickly become familiar with. He is nearly to the edge of the kingdom, where the trees become more abundant. He quickly scrambles up one convenient trunk, using the limbs to move from tree to tree. It’s slow and difficult, but at least the wolves couldn’t get him here even if they could find him. He even nearly falls a time or two, but he catches his sharp claws into the bark and manages to pull himself back up each time.
He’s nearly free when a sad little sound catches his attention. He stills, crouching low over his branch as he peers warily around, little tail flicking in agitation. It isn’t until his gaze falls lower, to nearly directly beneath his perch, that he finds the source of the noise however.
For a moment, he simply stares. He hasn’t seen another cat before. But this one is not quite like him. Bigger, for one. And spotted. Still, curiosity eats at him, and it only takes him a moment to decide he could risk descending from his perch. The wolves had to be way behind by now anyway.
Of course, he hadn’t quite considered how he was going to get down. Now that he is, he realizes he may have made a huge mistake. Because, as it turns out, climbing down head first is a very bad idea. He barely catches himself as he nearly tumbles down the trunk with a panicked yelp. For a long moment, he huddles at the lee of the branch, eyeing the ground warily.
Finally, he creeps forward along the branch, until he directly above the large kitten curled up on the ground. He let’s out a squeaky little meow, hoping maybe she’d notice. After another moment, he meows just a little louder, more plaintively. And again, growing louder each time. Eventually she had to notice, right?
Now only this seems clear
