by Taki Drake
> Little did the Persian cat know that someday she would be part of the despised “riff-raff.”
Battered by rejection and inconsolable in her layered grief, TT left the center of the clowder and headed toward the grudgingly-provided quarters. After the long meeting, most of the day had passed, and the temperature had chilled. TT made her way through the broken door of the hut to see a disaster. There was no working fireplace, no source of heat. Instead of the snuggly-built protections of her family home, this was little more than holey walls and a partial roof.
The dropping temperature and the gusty wind combined TT’s fluffed and ruffled fur with the whistling sounds of a chilly autumn night. It was one of the loneliest sounds that the despairing little cat had ever heard.
With no blanket or way of making a warm bed, TT looked around for some protection from the elements. Fighting despair and exhaustion, it was almost more than she could manage. Finally spying a corner where leaves had gathered in the wind, the newly-declared orphan cat made a rough bed there using the leaves as partial insulation.
As the exhausted little cat succumbed to tiredness and finally slept, her last thought was of Dascha and her friends and the warmth they had shared as they slept together. Holding tightly to that memory, the echo of that warmth of body and spirit accompanied her down into her desperately needed rest.
Chapter 20 – Grief and Remembrance
The days that followed were very difficult for TT. Although the clowder provided communal food, there never seemed to be any in the common area when TT arrived. Although she could frequently smell traces of a variety of foodstuffs, at most, only the dregs of the normally extensive arrays of meats and other dishes could be found. The Persian’s attempts to get someone to answer her questions on where the food had gone were ignored, with the clowder members staring past her as if she were not there.
Each day saw her a little thinner, a little weaker. Hunger gnawed on her stomach, and the isolation and shunning clawed her spirit to bloody shreds. She was even forced to hunt, or at least attempt to find and kill her own food. If she were on the stage, TT was sure that the audience would have considered this part of the play as a farce, designed to amuse. The hungry little cat knew that her attempts at hunting birds would have been the cause of hysterical laughter in the audience and a glowing critique from the public.
In the area around the clowder, the birds were simply too fast. Whether it was because the slower fowl had been hunted to extinction or that the notoriously stupid birds had been driven away from the area, TT was simply unable to catch a single bird. She tried stalking them singly, pouncing on groups, and many combinations in-between. Nothing worked. Obviously, the much-vaunted instincts of a cat were not automatically available. Another cherished illusion shot down, TT thought after one especially futile attempt that left her pulling burrs out of her coat for hours.
Her foray into rat hunting had gone equally badly. Several times she had succeeded in trapping one of the field mice or the slightly larger brown rats. Unfortunately, she froze when she caught them, unable to look them in the eye and kill them. She couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with her. I thought that cats are supposed to know how to hunt. It is supposed to be part of our instincts, our DNA. What is wrong with me that I cannot kill them?
TT knew that she had to find some way of feeding herself. The cooperation and civilization that a clowder provided have been something that she had relied on her entire life. Without that support, and without a bonded Witch, the Persian simply was lost.
She had never learned survival skills, nor how to exist on her own in any situation. The weakening little cat now realized that she had been raised to always be dependent on others, unable to live without the chains of privilege and class. It was a depressing thought, especially when her stomach growled all of the time.
One thing that was readily available, however, was water. There were many streams and small lakes in the area, as TT found in roaming the woods and meadows around the clowder. She found herself discovering interesting and beautiful places that she had never noticed before. It was a benefit of the forced solitude, one that the Persian never would have realized before.
In her life as a kitten and as a young adult, she had stayed close to the other cats and had rarely ventured out into the wilder areas. Rejected by her clan and made unwelcome in areas where the other cats would congregate, TT found herself exploring.
Occasionally, she would see a glimpse of one of the other cats as they ran errands of their own or guarded the perimeter of the clowder lands. None of them spoke to her or even fully looked at her. Most of the time, as soon as they saw her, they would deliberately turn their backs, pretending that TT did not exist and hurrying off in a different direction.
At first, every time someone did that she would grieve. Sorrow at her loss and pain at the undeserved rejection permeated her days and shadowed her nights with bad dreams. After a while, it became something that she incorporated into her expectations of their behavior. She moved beyond grief and rejection into acceptance, and her emotions started to even out as TT adjusted to her new reality.
It was during one of her explorations that she decided to relax in a small, sunny spot within an isolated glade on the shore of one of the many lakes that dotted the area. Bending over, she was drinking from the small lake when she noticed the darting shape of a fish no more than a foot front of her.
Without thinking, TT dove for the fish. The splash of water was cold against her paws, but she was so focused that she didn’t notice. The fish, a medium-sized trout, had risen in the warm water to feed on the flies that would frequently touch down on the water. So focused on its own meal that it had not noticed the predator shape of the bedraggled cat that had been crouched on the shore, the fish had made a fatal mistake. The water was shallow, and the cat’s initial leap had been strong enough that her claws sunk securely into the fish’s sides.
Anchored firmly, TT found herself in a whirl of activity. Trying to hold onto a twisting, turning, writhing creature in the middle of a deep pool of water, left TT fighting both to control her prey and to breathe.
At this point, breathing was secondary. The Persian tried to avoid drawing in water, but her primary objective was to catch the blasted fish. Her world had tightened down to the battle, and this was one she was determined not to lose. Her body slammed around, sometimes under the surface of the water, sometimes splashing in and out. Vaguely registering the impact of the pounding, TT was so focused on her prey that the pain and muscle strain would not register until much later.
Straining her strength until the cracking point, TT managed to drag the fish fully onto the shore. Without letting up on her efforts, the Persian continued to drag the wildly flopping fish further from the edge of the water. She managed to pull her prey several yards back from the shore before the small cat finally collapsed into a choking, heaving, wet mess of plastered fur beside the still moving fish.
Now, what do I do? thought TT as she stared in awe at the trout.
Out of the water, the trout was easily twice as large as TT. Looking at it now, as she panted and gasped for breath, the small cat was amazed that she had managed to win. However, capturing the fish was only part of the challenge. Now, what was she to do? TT had no idea what to do now. How was she supposed to reduce the still living animal to something that she could eat? Where were those fabled instincts? she thought in despair.
Still focused on her captured but still living prey, TT was taken completely by surprise when a streak of fur from her left tackled the flopping fish.
It was a large tomcat. A complete stranger to TT, he was thick-furred and muscular. With smooth movements that testified to extensive experience, the cat jumped onto the fish, expertly sunk its claws in directly behind the animal’s head and severed its spine with a single bite. The powerful movements of the trout ceased immediately, although small tremors still animated the carcass.
Looking up at the stunned Persian, the other cat rega
rded TT with a wicked glint in his eye. << Hi there, Princess. Don’t you have a greeting for your long-lost Uncle? >>
<<<>>>
To say that TT was shocked would be an understatement. First of all, the cats in her clowder were primarily Persians. It was obvious from the markings and the shape of this cat’s head that this was not a purebred Persian. The feline’s mixed ancestry was apparent in the longer shape of his snout and the impressive musculature. His legs were longer, and his coat was thicker than most Persians. That luxuriant coat was not marked with the elegant subtlety of the Persian, but a mixture of forest colors and partial stripes.
He was different than any other cat that TT had seen at the clowder and she normally would have not believed his claims of kinship. However, he seemed to know a lot about TT. He casually referenced her mother and sisters, talked about events in some of her brother’s lives. It was obvious that he knew of her and her family, the knowledge permeating his speech and convincing her that he was truly her uncle.
At first, TT dumbly listened to him, unable to gather her scattered thoughts enough to even respond. As he continued to carry on a one-sided conversation, she began to interject short questions and comments. His willingness to talk to her was a balm to her soul. She hadn’t realized how much she liked to interact with others, but the relief that she felt having another interact with her was telling. I guess I’m not cut out to be a hermit, she thought. The whole time her uncle had been talking to her, he had also been expertly gutting the fish. When TT realized that the fish had been butchered and was ready for her to eat, her stomach short-circuited her brain. Putting all other consideration aside for a brief time, the hungry cat devoted herself to the meal her body craved.
The other cat continued to talk to her, saying, << I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to join you for the meal. Make sure that you are careful about eating bones. If you eat carelessly, the bones will stick in your throat, and you’ll be coughing yourself sick for a while if it doesn’t kill you. So don’t eat too fast and make sure you chew your food. >>
<< I am hungry, not totally devoid of manners. But thank you for the reminder. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to eat enough to fill my stomach. >>
<< Yeah, the old crabapples tried pulling that same passive starvation on me when they first shunned me. It didn’t work as well because I at least had a father around long enough to teach me how to hunt. Your mother has always been too much of a prim little thing to lower herself and learn how to hunt. She regards it is something that the barbarian types need to do and far beneath her dignity. >>
<< Well, I certainly did not know how to hunt. The first time I tried to catch a mouse, I’m not sure who was more scared, him or me. >> TT briefly told her uncle about what it happened then, and she could feel his intense amusement. However, when he spoke again, he was not making fun of her nor was he ridiculing her actions. << You obviously have great reflexes, or you never would’ve caught the mouse. I watched as you grab the fish and you are actually pretty athletic for someone who has never had any training. >>
<< Do you think so? I never really thought of myself as capable, I guess. Everyone was always telling me how beautiful I was, but no one ever taught me that what I did was important. >>
Warning her not to overeat, her uncle proceeded to give TT some basic instructions about cleaning up the carcass and how to avoid polluting the waterways. The Persian was conscious of a feeling of regret that she had waited so long to learn such basic life skills. As she finished burying the well-picked fish carcass in an appropriate spot, TT stopped dead and looked at the other cat in shock.
<< Oh my goodness! I am so sorry, but I never asked your name. >>
In a voice trembling with amusement, the other cat answered, << My name is Jacques, but when I had family they just called me Jack. >>
<< Well, Uncle Jack, what’s next? >>
<< Well, TT, it seems to me that it’s about time we taught you how to make a den. Pretty soon it is going to be too cold for you to survive in that drafty building with little bits and pieces of dried leaves for insulation. >>
Thinking of the cold and uncomfortable nights that she had already spent, TT fervently agreed with the plan. As she followed Jack to her next lesson, the small Persian thought to herself, He is like one of those story tale knights on horseback, riding in to save the day. If I were a human, it would be funny to have the Princess saved by the knight in shining armor. Since I am just a cat named Princess, I will have to settle for a scruffy knight emerging from the woods and teaching me to save myself. >>
Chapter 21 – Training and Focus
Over the next few days, Jack led TT through a series of survival lessons. Knowing that her life could easily depend on the things that he had to teach, TT was a focused and obedient student. No matter how difficult or how uncomfortable the lesson might be, she put her whole heart and soul into learning, quickly and well.
One thing that she found very interesting was Jack’s comments on why she preferred fish. When she had asked about it, he said, << Actually many Familiars do prefer fish. One of the reasons is that it’s less confusing. You don’t have to stop in mid-strike to wonder if the animal that you’re about to kill is another Familiar. >>
TT thought about that for a while and realized that there was a comfort knowing that there was no chance of her killing an intelligent being. On further reflection, she added, <
<<<>>>
Jack had gone off to do some activity of his own and TT was taking the time to relax and sun herself on a large stone by one of the small lakes. She heard someone coming to the underbrush and turned, wary and on guard. Emerging from a small pathway, she saw one of the general messengers that the Council frequently employed. His disdainful posture and his direct approach to her told her that this was probably a message she didn’t want to receive, but she waited in apparent calm for him to come to her.
Stopping about ten feet away, the seal-point cat told her abruptly, << The Council wants you to stay away from the clowder for the next two days. Remember that you are here on sufferance and your obedience to this is expected. >>
TT felt a surge of surprise and curiosity. Unable to just accept the message without a response, she asked, << Why for the next few days explicitly, when all you have done is shun me? >>
Looking back over his shoulder at the Persian, the tomcat responded, <
<< If you continue to allow the Familiars to bond under the same conditions in which I was claimed by my former Witch, all you’re doing is sacrificing more of us. Surely, you can see that and know how wrong it is. >>
<< You are only here on sufferance! None of us want to listen to your seditious speech. You are not welcome around here, and the only reason we are not throwing you out is because of some stupid rule. It would be better off for all of us if you had died. >>
Without another glance, the messenger disappeared back into the depths of the wood. Despite knowing that she had been rejected by family and clowder, some part of TT had hoped to do some small part in changing opinions and to assist in protecting those that had raised her. These cruel words and the vicious intent disarmed her, leaving her soul bleeding on the ground.
When Jack came back a few hours later, he found TT motionless and staring toward the forest with an unfocused gaze. Sniffing the air, he could tell that there had been another cat there and from the Persian’s posture, he knew that it had not been a friendly visit. Without saying a word, Jack went over close to TT and lay down. Holding his silence, the patient male waited until the Persian broke the silence.
TT started talking as if an interrupted conversation was being resumed. << I would leave if I could, right now. I thought I could help things, but it doesn’t seem like I can. It makes it worse to be in a place where people hate you and wish you were dead. It’s another form of drain, a slow death
rather than something sharp and final. >>
<< Okay, let’s go. >>
TT looked at Jack in shock. Her mental voice was just a shaky as her body when she stammered, << What… What do you mean? >>
<< You are absolutely right. There’s no sense in sticking around if we can’t do any good here Existing on the fringe of a group is too hard. At some point, one of us is going to get hurt enough to die. It is also going to be winter soon. Therefore, if we are going to go, we might as well get going now. >>
Shaking her head like she was trying to recover from a physical blow, TT asked, << Why are you willing to go with me? You spent a long time here, and I don’t know what has changed. >>
<< After my Witch died, they shunned me also. Somehow, they blamed me for the fact that he died and that I lived. Just like you, I thought I could make a difference. But here we are ten years later, and I’ve made no difference. >>
<< You made a difference to me. >>
<< That is fair. And you’re right. But now that I’ve made that difference, let’s get the hell out of here! >>
<< I’m glad that you’re willing to come with me, even though I don’t understand why. I just think we need to be away from here, and as soon as possible. >>
The two cats sat together for a while in companionable silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. TT felt her mind skitter around wildly, touching the memories of growing up in the clowder that now had rejected her. Images of Dascha and her friends coming to her rescue, filtered as it had been through a wall of pain. For a while, she just let her mind rest, feeling the relief of a decision made and the gathering of her energy for the tasks that needed to be done before the trip could start.
Jack’s thoughts ran in a different direction. For the first time in many years, he found himself reliving the death of his Witch. It’d been a brave sacrifice, both of them rushing to save the innocent. Wrapped in the echoes of pain that twisted tendrils deeply down into his soul, he saw once again their vain attempt to stop a dark mage. The older Familiar felt his chest tighten and his eyes burn as the horrific scene played in his head. Once again, he watched helplessly while his beloved Witch burned to death saving him and the remaining two small village children.